A SEASIDE YARN. 39 
A SEASIDE YARN. 
“SMASHED everything and gone, by Jove!” “Yes, 
Major, and so they allers will, if so be as you tries on 
that ‘haul devil, pull baker’ sort of game with big 
bass. Fishes ain’t hosses by no manner of means, 
leastways they won’t be sarved as sich.” Such was 
the exclamation of my hasty fishing companion, the 
Major, and such the stricture passed on his misfor- 
tunes by old Bob, our boatman ; and Bob was right. 
Fish are not “ hosses,” notwithstanding the laborious 
efforts made by so many of their would-be captors to 
treat them as if they were. Few sea-fish there are, 
perhaps, more generally misunderstood and coarsely 
‘fished for than bass, and few are there with whose 
habits I am acquainted that feed so differently ac- 
cording to the position and circumstances under 
which they are placed, thus affording a wide scope 
for the skill, ingenuity, and research of the fisher- 
man, who shall, if he pleases, accompany me on a 
short voyage, and peep, Asmodeus-like, at the bass 
“taking his divarsions” in his own sea-garden, and 
lend a hand at ensnaring him. ; 
Let us then, drift quietly away, with the flowing 
