Modern Yarmouth. 2 5 



and a bell is being rung to call the buyers together. The 

 auctioneer sometimes, as when the fishermen have been to* 

 successful, may have a difficulty in obtaining an auditory ; 

 but that is a fare case. He is a man of few words, and 

 those few he wastes not. The late George Robbins would 

 have mourned over his matter-of-fact descriptions. 

 : " What d'ye say," he asks ; " shall we begin with five 

 pounds a last?" A last means thirteen thousand two hundred 

 fish, and by the rules of the trade herring are sold by the 

 last. But there is no response until a comfortable-looking 

 gentleman offers fifty shillings. Him the auctioneer evi- 

 dently knows, for he familiarly and chidingly remonstrates 

 with him for his meanness. 



At this juncture there is an uproar in the rear, a fight 

 between a sailor and a teller in the shed, and the auctioneer 

 is left absolutely alone until the dispute is settled by the 

 ignominious thrashing and retreat of the landlubber. Even- 

 tually the bidding begins at three pounds, and proceeds at 

 advances of five shillings, until, amidst some laughter, the 

 comfortable-looking buyer who had offered fifty shillings 

 buys the last for five guineas. Prices vary according to the 

 supply of fish, and vary therefore immensely. Not long ago 

 forty-five shillings per last was the highest price that could 

 be fetched; at another time herrings had been so scarce 

 that the auctioneer dared not sell more than a hundred fish 

 at a time, and then at eight shillings per hundred, or forty 

 pounds a last. The briskest sale-time is when the earliest 

 vessels come into the river : at such crises everybody works 

 double tides to catch the trains and get the fresh fish into 

 the markets while they are saleable. The auctioneer, it may 

 be added, is a man of some consequence. He provides the 

 swills, and is responsible for the money produced by sales ; 

 in return he gets a good commission, and they do say about 



