106 FISH-CULTURAL ASSOCIATION. 
our worship in Martha’s Vineyard in midsummer with a qua- 
haug bake of the Venus mercenaria! That’saclam! [Laughter.]| 
What a joy to know, when meandering around Tom’s river, in 
New Jersey, that we can perceive the backward movement and 
shadow in the water of the Callentctes hastatus. That’s a crab! 
[| Laughter. | 
Perhaps this refinement in terminology is the rebound from 
the peculiar patois of the fishmonger from earliest times. In 
Greece and Rome, later in Italy and Spain, the fishermen or fish 
dealers—especially mongers of the gentler sex—were noted for 
their uncontrollable vivacity of tongue. Billingsgate has sur- 
vived the demolition of other famous gateways into London It 
is to-day an illustration of a business that runs up to £120,000 
and is growing beyond precedent. How picturesque is the de- 
scription given of this famed locality: 
If without the trouble of taking a long journey we desire to witness 
the results of the British fisheries, we have only to repair to Billings- 
gate to find this particular industry brought to a focus. At that pisca- 
torial bourse we can see in the early morning the produce of our most 
distant seas brought to our greatest seat of population, sure of finding 
a ready and profitable market. The aldermanic turbot, the tempting 
sole, the gigantic codfish, the valuable salmon, the cheap sprat, and 
the universal herring, are all to be found during their different seasons 
in great plenty at Billingsgate; and in the lower depths of the market 
buildings countless qnantities of shell-fish of all kinds, stored in im- 
mense tubs, may be seen; while away in the adjacent lanes there are to 
be found gigantic boilers erected for the purpose of crab and lobster 
boiling. Some of the shops inthe neighborhood have always on hand 
large stocks of all kinds of dried fish which are carried away in great 
wagons to the railway stations for country distribution. About four 
o'clock on a summer morning this grand piscatorial mart may be seen 
in its full excitement—the auctioneers bawling, the porters rushing 
madly about, the hawkers also rushing madly about seeking persons 
to join them in buying a lot, and so to divide their speculation; and all 
over is sprinkled the dripping sea-water, and all around we feel that 
“ancient and fish-like smell,” which is the concomitant of such a 
place. 
There has ever been a deal of satire against the frugal and 
hard-worked fish-wives; not merely those who congregate in 
Billingsgate, but in all fisherland, and in every market where 
