THE SOUTH BAY. 169 



bewitched as though the fish were in a piscatorial 

 conspiracy. Even when the unfortunate fisherman ex- 

 tended his line and allowed his float to swing round 

 beyond the stern and even alongside of his compa- 

 nion's, that of the latter would be dragged under at 

 every moment, while his would remain undisturbed. 



"Well, I have seen luck before," he began, 

 fiercely, " but never such luck as this ; how deep are 

 you fishing ? " 



This question, as betraying the possibility of infe- 

 rior judgment, fairly stuck in his throat. 



"About three feet." 



" Mine is the same. No, it is mere luck, that is 

 all." Anger was making his language slightly un- 

 grammatical. 



Mr. Hartley replied, as he landed another brace : 

 "Of course it is, and now let's change seats again 

 and see if we cannot outwit the fish." 



Being patronized by an inferior fisherman is 

 almost unbearable, it implies triumph with nothing 

 to justify it; and an assumption of superiority will 

 be suspected if not intended. So Mr. Goodlow held 

 out for a time, saying slightingly: "Oh, it \vas a 

 mere question of luck, mere luck that must soon 

 change;" but as it did not, and as his friend's man- 

 ner was soothing and even submissive, he at last 

 consented, with the air of conferring a favor, to re- 

 sume his old place in the stern. 



At the first cast which Mr. Hartley made after 

 returning to his seat at the bow, he hooked and 

 landed the largest fish yet seen. This was too much, 

 8 



