I70 OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



success comes from land-holding, and those who 

 own the earth are almost invariably financial 

 magnates also, so the cod is a banker. Some 

 people, not financial magnates themselves in all 

 probability, have given this substantial dweller 

 of the under-water plateaus undignified names. 

 They call him pilker, scrod, groper, etc. This is 

 pure envy. When he bites it means business. 

 There is none of the bait-stealing tomfoolery of 

 the cunner, none of the dancing hilarity of the 

 pollock. It is just a steady down tug that makes 

 the line cut your fingers and likely takes your 

 hand under water. If he is a good one you will 

 need to sit back and snub the line over the gun- 

 wale in that first plunge which follows the stab of 

 the hook. Then it is a steady, muscle-grinding 

 pull to get him up. It is a stogy, heavy resistance 

 which he offers. To lift him out of his depths 

 is a good deal like explaining to a middle-class 

 Englishman something that he does not wish to 

 comprehend, but by and by, leaning perilously 

 over the rail, you see his tawny bulk coming up 

 through a well of chrysophrase lined with the 

 scintillant gold of the imprisoned sun. A lift 

 and a swing, and he is aboard. He may weigh 

 anything from a few pounds up to a score. Cod 



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