THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, June 21, 1859. 
171 
method of netting ; but that, when the weather is favourable, the 
water in a right condition, and the shoals—or “seholes” he 
called them—of mackerel in the neighbourhood, the “ kiddle ” 
net plan is a profitable one. But, as he said, it is not all profit. 
There is a great outlay required for the pole3 and nets, which are 
necessarily very extensive. There is also a great amount of 
labour expended in the preparation and sinking of the poles, and 
stretching the nets from ono to another. This labour is greatly 
increased by the liability of the nets to be broken by the sea in 
stormy weather, rendering it necessary that they should be taken 
up when such weather is looked for. After all precautions 
they are sometimes greatly injured ; and even if the weather be 
calm, and all the other matters satisfactory, there may be very 
few mackerel which come within the fatal circle ; so that, taking 
the average of seasons, though the most experienced may make 
the speculation pay, my friend said—and I believe he might be 
considered a judge—“ They doan’t make ther fortins.” 
While talking I had noticed that my companion kept an eye 
on the nets, which were becoming every minute more visible ; 
and now he gave the order to one of the men to hoist a flag and 
basket upon a mast fixed hi the sand close by. 
He accounted for this manceuvre by telling me that the number 
of carts from the town to fetch the fish to go by train for the 
London market was regulated by the prospect of fish in the nets, 
and that this was the plan he had adopted for making it known. 
“You see,” he said, “ when ther’s a few we hoist a flag ; when 
ther’s a tidy lot wo hoist a basket too ; and sometimes we hoist 
another basket, but that’s ouly when ther’s a terrible sight o’ fish. 
You come,” he added, “at a pretty good time, comparison 
speaking. Ther’s something for ye to see in the second bight.” 
Thus directed, I brought my glass to bear upon the spot indi¬ 
cated, and could perceive the glittering of fish hanging in the 
nets ; but as there appeared to be no great number, I asked if 
that was what he meant. 
“No,” he said, “they be only a few herrings: they mostly 
hang in the nets, but if you look at the water praps you’ll see a 
ripple on it.” 
I turned my glass in that direction; and sure enough within 
the second bend I discerned a commotion on the surface of the 
water as if it were ruffled by a breeze. That, he told me, was the 
mackerel. 
There was now a general movement towards the nets. I was 
not the only visitor. Among fish-dealers from the neighbouring 
town, and the “ hands ” connected with the fishery, were several 
amateurs who had evidently paid a visit to the spot before. There 
was not much to be seen in the first bend, though a few mackerel 
were taken up and put into baskets brought down from the 
settlement; but when the receding tide permitted us to enter the 
next, where the water was now about two feet deep, the scene was 
novel and exciting to the last degree. 
No one seemed to care for the wetting : respectable landsmen, 
witli their trousers tucked up above their knees, and even their 
wives and daughters, with garments bedragged, and hair sadly 
out of curl, waded into the animated water. For it really was 
animated. The imprisoned fish dashed against us, and we could 
hardly walk without encountering them. It was a beautiful sight 
to see their deep green hue, much of which they soon lose after 
they are taken from the water. It was a delightful excitement to 
make desperate and often unavailing plunges after one that sailed 
by within our reach. It was a moment of triumph when it was 
effectually grappled with, and held aloft in the hand ; of deep 
disappointment when, with a twist of its strong body, it eluded 
our grasp and returned to the water. But we tried again, and 
sometimea succeeded hi getting a captive into the basket standing 
near; always in getting ourselves drenched. 
Meanwhile, a more wholesale capture had been going on, the 
fishermen being provided with hand-nets for the purpose. 
The third bend was then entered, where a similar scene was 
enacted. The tide had now left the whole nearly dry, save here 
and there a little pool, and the mackerel and herrings, with an_ 
occasional specimen of some other edible fish, had been carried up 
to the beach. 
There were still, however, a few things to be looked at. A huge 
fish of the skate tribe, known as a sting-rate, lying in the agonies 
of death, with the sting severed from the body ; two or three 
cuttle-fish spouting out their inky fluid ; masses of various kinds 
of sea-weeds, which were being disengaged from the nets to leave 
them clear ; and numbers of the large-mouthed dog-fish, treated 
unceremoniously by the fishermen and visitors, who liad pitched 
them over the nets out of the way. 
On the beach business was proceeding briskly. Baskets wero 
being packed, and carts loaded with the spoil, the majority of 
which was going by train,—formerly the carts took them at once 
straight to London,—and the home fish-dealers were bargaining 
for their supply for retail sale. 
The day was drawing to a close. One of the visitors, with that 
spirit of hospitality which such occasions call forth, offered me a 
seat in his light cart as far as the corner where the Poppies 
bloomed, which being accepted, we set off. He told me by the 
way, that he had seen the nets broken with the weight and 
strength of the enclosed fish; and, on another occasion, upwards 
of £40 worth of mackerel brought up to the beach; that there 
were several sets of nets on the coast besides those I had seen. 
! Finally, he hoped Iliad “ enjoyed myself.” I said I had, thanked 
| him, and bade him “good day.” 
Soon after, I found myself at the ferry, which we crossed,—this 
time making a considerable detour to avoid a bank of sand in the 
middle of the stream,—through the town again, hearing “ fresh 
mackerel” already cried, “seven for a shilling;” and, after a 
light repast at a comfortable inn, I was once more in the train, 
and reached my town quarters while the shop lamps were shining. 
Sand was in my shoes, my Clothes had been wet, and had “ dried 
on but the first were soon off, and salt water gives no cold : so 
that my excursion was one of uumixed satisfaction. Henceforth, 
I shall never look upon mackerel without being carried back in 
imagination to that pleasant day’s journey, and the “ kiddle nets ” 
on the Sussex coast.—G. R. T. 
Errata.— In “ Kiddle Nets,” page 140, column 1, line 37 from top, for 
“ past,” lead “ but.” Line 20 from bottom, put a comma after “Marsh,” 
and substitute a small w for the capital in “ White.” Same page, column 2, 
line 7 from top, for “ belt ” read “ bolt.” 
SCRAPS PROM NATURAL. HISTORY. 
A PET HOBNET. 
The readers of The Cottage Gardener have, no doubt, 
heard of many pet animals ; but the history of a pet insect which 
has such a bad name may amuse some of them. 
A few summers since, close to my beehive, I had an empty 
hive on a stand in the month of May, expecting a swarm. On 
watching my bees, I observed a large queen hornet come from 
the empty hive and fly away. After waiting some time the hornet 
returned; and, from the manner she entered the hive, it looked 
very much as if she had chosen that place as her domicile. On 
her leaving the second time I examined the hive, and found a 
round substance about the size of a walnut formed at the top 
inside, which soon proved to be the commencement of a nest. 
The nest was watched some time every day, and it gradually 
increased in size. The weather became unsettled ; and the 
queen hornet became weak and feeble, and was, during this 
time, scarcely able to fly. 
One night after the clock had struck nine, almost dark, she 
missed her way into the hive, and fell exhausted amongst some 
young Potato haulms beneath. She was unable to rise. I 
raised her on my open hand to the mouth of the hive, which 
she entered. She was very fidgetty, but did not offer to sting 
me. 
In June the nest was increased to the size of an orange, and 
four young hornets were hatched: these assisted the mother 
and worked regularly, but never increased to a greater number. 
I used to sit for an hour or more nearly every day and watch 
the hornets at work. They never attempted to molest me nor 
the bees near them. I have observed that wasps and hornets 
do not act offensively while in small numbers. 
The old queen of the hornets was certainly no friend to the 
Early-closing Association ; as, when by herself, she worked every 
day until more than half an hour after sunset. When I lived 
further in the country there was a very strong hornet's nest in 
one of my haystacks, within two hundred yards of my apiary; 
and the hornets never attacked the bees during the whole 
summer. Hornets are certainly not “ so black as they are 
painted;” but I have no doubt, should an unfortunate horse or 
other quadruped disturb their nest when they become very 
strong as to numbers, they are very formidable enemies. 
To finish the story of my pet hornet. In the month of Sep¬ 
tember of the same year the old queen became unable to fly or 
leave the nest; and she and the young ones, with part oi the 
nest, were sent to the Entomological Society’s rooms for exami¬ 
nation.— H. W. Newman, Cheltenham. 
