296 BLUE-FISHING. 



place where we do know the way, the better. Wo 

 have time to get back and take a run outside, and 

 catch some of those big blue-fish that I hear a good 

 deal more of than I see." 



It was hard work to induce the Commissioner to 

 consent to give up his search for the house that 

 bore some course from a spot marked by a stake, 

 of which there are probably a million or two in the 

 bay, but he submitted at last and the yacht was 

 headed back for the inlet. The wind had died out 

 and valuable time had been lost, the tide turned 

 against them and they reached the inlet too late to 

 try the trolling outside. The Commissioner con- 

 soled himself by making a sketch of Jesse Conk- 

 ling's, near to which they had anchored, and the 

 Superintendent by going ashore and explaining to 

 the residents and visitors, who received him with 

 open arms and limitless hospitality, just how to 

 troll for blue-fish, a knowledge which he had 

 evolved from his inner consciousness by the mere 

 prospect of going out for the first time in his life 

 on the morrow. He returned quite late, after all 

 the other occupants of the yacht had retired to 

 their peaceful couches, and waked them up in order 

 that they might know that he had gone to bed too. 



The following morning broke clear and moderate, 

 with a gentle breeze from the south-west. It was 

 just the day for our purpose. We had the white- 

 bait for breakfast that Mr. Green had previously 

 taken, and which he had carefully preserved on ice. 



The " white-bait" were only "spearing," quite a 



