2 04 WA TERSIDE SKETCHES. 



undecided whether the Seabird shall take flight or linger 

 through another day and night. There is nothing to complain 

 of in the " take," but every man and boy can remember when, 

 in very exceptional hauls, ten times the quantity have been 

 taken. Not this year, however. They all agree that the 

 good old times have gone, and that the herrings are neither 

 so numerous nor so prime as they used to be. Several boats 

 are mentioned, while the herrings are being shaken out of 

 the nets and the scales are discharged around in volleys, 

 which have earned hundreds of pounds less than in the 

 previous year. 



After five, hours of hard work the last bowl is seen tossing 

 on the crest of the waves and disappearing in the troughs ; 

 the skipper takes the hatch from the well in which the fish 

 are stored, pronounces the haul to be " a last " — 

 nominally 10,000, but actually 13,200 fish — and laconically 

 orders the crew to make preparations for getting under 

 weigh. A wise skipper this ! Instead of smothering his 

 dainty herrings with salt, as many of his compeers are doing, 

 and staying for another chance, he determines to hie for port 

 and save the fresh herring market. 



A rude, laborious life my comrades of the Seabird must 

 have. In all weathers, and for nine months in the year, they 

 pursue the double avocations of sailor and fisherman ; fisher- 

 men first, perhaps, and sailors afterwards. At times a gale 

 suddenly rises before the hauling begins, and it is a point of 

 honour with the east coast fishermen never to forsake the 

 nets. They make everything snug, and so long as the craft 

 can be kept head to wind they ride out the storm, buffeted 

 and tossed, while we at our firesides little wot of their hard- 

 ships and perils. The herring season over, the Seabird, for 



