FRESH AND SAL 7\ 1 9 j 



tion on board the schooner Hesperus, his mouth is pipeless, 

 smoking being unentered upon his list of small vices. He 

 goodhumouredly listens to his subjects as they growl about 

 the Scotchmen, smiles, I fear approvingly, and with a cheery 

 hail gives the order 



" Now, my lads, bend nets. Look alive, bo' ! " 



The latter adjuration is for the cabin boy, who is dreamily 

 employed in washing a tub full of potatoes for the mid-day 

 meal, and whose occasional glances towards the dim line of 

 coast the watchful skipper has noticed. The '' Bo'," a pale- 

 faced, silent youth, who confides to me that he doesn't like 

 the sea, grins in a melancholy manner, and looks alive as 

 diiected. 



Bending the nets is an initiatory operation which must not 

 be omitted. The bulk of the nets are neatly stowed away 

 in the hold, but here lies a pile of recently repaired articles 

 that must be tied together with strong twine. The patriarch 

 of the crew, acting as storekeeper, assists the mate in 

 cutting the fastenings into requisite lengths, another man 

 passes them on to the tyers, and another clears away the 

 work when it is done. Thus early the orderly method by 

 which alone herring fishing can be prosecuted becomes 

 apparent, and everything forthwith goes on with a precision 

 and discipline which, from the rude appointments of the 

 boat and the rough-and-ready manner of the crew, you 

 would not have considered probable. 



Away on the starboard bow some one descries an object 

 in the water a cask, perhaps, or a chest. Our world, you 

 must observe, is very limited in its area, and it is astonish- 

 ing what importance trifles assume in it. We become quite 

 excited as the skipper luffs up and steers for the prize, while 



