THE SENSES OF FISHES. 443 



Of course, among angling naturalists, the gift of the senses 

 is, or at least they think it should be, confined to game-fish, 

 as they cannot imagine any dispensation of providence that 

 places the ignoble Catfish or the snaky Eel upon the same 

 plane with the Salmon, Trout and Bass. 



Fish, no doubt, in common with other animals, have the 

 instinct of danger developed almost to the quality of reason; 

 and it is no bar to the truth of this to argue that, because a 

 fish will take the bait with a half dozen broken hooks in its 

 mouth, it follows a brutish appetite that is blind to danger; 

 for, look you, be ye an angler or a butcher, that stomach of 

 yours is death to you every day of your life; that smoking 

 dish, be it a red herring or canvas-back duck, is causing 

 you to make rapid strides grave-ward, and you know it; and 

 yet you gorge yourself every day upon your favorite dish. 



It ill becomes a man to argue that, because an animal 

 cannot control its appetite, it has not the lordly gift of 

 reason. To sum up: 



Can a fish taste? Certainly he spits out his artificial 

 bait. 



Can a fish smell? Aye, there's the rub; yet why the 

 anointed lures so prized by old anglers and many modern 

 ones? 



This fact, however, is sure: fish are susceptible to anger 

 and jealousy; for we have seen them fight, and we all know 

 how tiger-like in combat Salmon and Trout are, on their 

 spawning beds. 



