A TOOTH FOR A TOOTH. 



That reminds me, said Mr. W. B. Duffy, the Malt Whisky man, of 

 an adventure I had once upon a time off the shores of Staten Island. This 

 was my favorite resort for striped bass fishing, and many a big one have I 

 .*4> — ^ . caught theie in former days. One afternoon I had 



exceptionally good luck, catching several bass of fair 

 size, and after sunset, as I stood on a projecting rock 

 watching the rise and fall of the water, and listening to 

 what the wild waves were saying, a strange melody was 

 borne to my ears. It was soft and plaintive, with a 

 peculiar tone like that of an aeolian harp, and one could 

 almost imagine mingled with it a subdued siren song, 

 which seemed to come out of the depths of the ocean. 

 The words could not be distinguished, but the melody 

 was most beautiful. Finally it died away, and I deter- 

 mined to make one more cast and then return to the 

 city "by moonlight alone," in mv sail boat. 



At this time I was using mossbinikers for bait, and 

 . making a long cast beyond the rocks was rewarded by 

 a vigorous strike, but the subsequent play was unlike 

 anything I had ever experienced. There was a down- 

 ward rush, followed by a rise to the surface, and a fierce 

 splashing, and something like a low moan came to my 

 ^ . ^ , , ears, while a pale face seemed to appear above the waves, 



WILL ^/\Cf^ iVfy H'P,,'/' weird and ghost-like. As this apparition sank from 

 / lli/%^^^ sight the struggle was renewed, and with my heart 

 beating like a trip hammer, I strained the rod and line 

 until at length the spectre, for thus it seemed to be, reappeared close to the 

 rock on which I stood. 



I staggered and fell, knocking out one of my teeth on a projecting crag, 

 and at the same instant the hook was torn loose, and the mermaid, as T now 

 discovered it to be, splashed back into the waves and disappeared. On the 

 flat rock where the hook fell was the only memento of my strange fishing 

 contest, a pearly white tooth, which I have had carefully polished and 

 formed into the scarf pin that has so often excited the curiosity and 

 admiration of my friends. 



CHASED BY TIPSY FISH. 



The railway men of the Northwest give glowing accounts hi the 

 superb fishing in that section, but you should participate in the fishing to 

 be had in the South to know the pleasures of genuine angling, said Mr. 



82 



