DREDGING. 



A DREDGING DAY. 



The morning was clear, and promised a fair day ; 

 there was breeze enough to enable a boat to work, 

 enough in fact to raise what sailors call a "cats' paw" 

 upon the surface of the sea, and not sufficient to cover 

 it with "white horses." It was a nice time for a 

 dredging excursion, though rather cold ; and I sent 

 word to Jonah Fowler to bring his boat over, and we 

 would try a haul. The sun came out while we were 

 waiting, and penetrated through the clear water to 

 the bottom ; and the reflection of his rays from the 

 dimpling surface threw up on the boat's quarter a 

 running pattern of reticulate lines of light, as if to 

 give me in that bright net a good omen of success. 

 Little urchins stood on the quay-edge watching the 

 preparations with curiosity, whose hanging ringlets, 

 and free attitudes as they stood with hands in the 

 pockets of their loose trowsers, looked like copies 

 (tableaux vivants if you wilU of the well known print 

 of our nautical little Prince of Wales. The trim 

 boat's crew of the revenue cutter were lying at the 

 steps, or lounging with folded arms on the quay, 

 waiting for their officer; but it was far beneath 

 their dignity to manifest curiosity or interest in any 

 such matters. 



The preparations are made, the dredges and keer- 

 drag are overhauled, a goodly array of pans, tubs, 

 jars, and bottles are put on board, my mackintosh and 

 swimming-belt are on, (for you can never tell what 

 eveatualities of weather or accident may occur) and a 

 stout packet of sea-stores are snugly thrust into the 



