172 FISHERMEN'S OWN BOOK. 



the wind holds good and fortune favors us — that is, if you don't turn out to 

 be a Jonah ! Fishermen are pretty superstitious, and have a great beUef in 

 Jonahs. Should it unfortunately happen that we do not make a good trip 

 this time, being a green hand, you will surely be dubbed a Jonah. However, 

 greenhorns are generally assumed to be lucky till the contrary is proved ; 

 which will explain to you the suaviter in j?iodo with which they seem to treat 

 you. But there is the cook blowing his whistle to call us to supper ; so we 

 will go down and make a "square meal," and then prepare for a nap. 



"Hallo, there ! rouse out, old boy ;, do you calculate on sleeping all day? 

 The whistle went for breakfast long since, and the old cook will be clearing 

 the table off if you don't soon put in an appearance." Make a good break- 

 fast, and no signs of the landsman's malady yet. "Glad to hear it; you're 

 quite a Trojan." 



We have carried a spanking breeze all night, and have come about sixty- 

 five miles since we started. Suppose we round her to and get a cast of the 

 lead ; one hundred and twenty fathoms of line out, and no bottom. We'll 

 stand along a while longer. Meanwhile, I'll rig a line for you to fish with. 

 We use two hooks to each line with a snood of about one and a half fath- 

 oms to each hook, depending from the bottom of the lead. Having got a 

 basket of bait up from the hold, we'll take another sound ; seventy-five fath- 

 oms, hard bottom ; we'll have a try here, lads. Down go the lines, and, 

 bye-and-bye, Tom commences hauling. "What have you got on, Tom.'' A 

 snapper (a small codfish), I guess, I've got something small on, too." 

 They're too small here to pay us, so we'll go further for a field. My olfac- 

 tories inform me that the cook is progressing favorably ; so we will have 

 dinner before sounding again. I don't want to make any invidious remarks, 

 but the sea air seems to act magically on our appetites. Now for another 

 sound ; sixty fathoms — that's better. " By Jove ! that jerk was from no 

 small fish. There, he smells around again. Aha ! I've captured you this 

 time, old boy." Hallo ! Tom, Harry, Dick, all hauling as if for a wager. 

 Bear a hand, boys, and heave that anchor off the bow before she drifts away 

 from the "school." We're on fish this time, and no mistake. Let her have 

 a good scope of cable, and furl the sails. There ! we are all snug. 



And now, gentle reader, whoever you may be, for whom I rigged that line, 

 you may take the next berth alongside of me and try your luck. Heave 

 over your snoods with the baited hook first, and then the lead, taking care 

 that the snoods go down clear, as on that depends whether you haul up one 

 fish or a pair. Hold the line in check a little, as it runs down, or the tide 

 will run it out in a bite, and it will foul the other lines coming up with fish 

 on them ; and then you'll get — anything but blessings. Directly you feel 

 your lead strike bottom, haul back a little, so as to leave the hooks dang- 

 ling at or near the bottom. That's very well ; watch the rest and you'll 



