IN FEATHERS AND FUR. 303 
HOW ONE FAMILY EATS ANOTHER FAMILY. 
Who would ever think, to look at a black-skinned, dried-up 
Herring, that it was ever a bright, silvery little fish, darting about 
in the ocean ! It is a wonderful change, but most anything would 
be wonderfully changed, after going through what he has endured 
since he was a playful fish in the broad sea ; and he certainly is 
more useful, if not so pretty, in his present shape. 
When I tell you that no less than fifty millions of his brethren 
are eaten every year, in the one city of London, I'm afraid we 
shan't dare to guess how many of the family it takes to supply the 
whole world, nor the size of the family that can bear such frightful 
losses every year, and still afford a supply next year. And that 
isn't the worst of it, for our family — the human family — have 
hunted and eaten the Herring family for nine hundred years ! It 
almost seems as though the ocean must be full of them. It isn't, 
though, for there are months together when not a Herring can be 
caught, but when they do come, they come in immense shoals, so 
thick they are almost packed, and every man and boy on the shores 
where they come, who can buy, beg, or borrow a boat, goes out to 
catch them. 
It is about August when these lively little fellows appear near 
the shore, and then it is curious to be in one of the fishing towns. 
Everybody who has anything to do with them — not only the 
fishermen, but the curers, the barrel makers, the salt dealers — begins 
to get excited, and at last they rush around like maniacs. " Good 
morning" goes out of fashion, and "Any fish this morning?" 
takes its place. Children buy candy with fish, and every one takes 
them in change, instead of pennies. 
Of course all these millions of fish are not caught with hcoks. 
Nets are used — monstrous ones too, fifty yards long, and thirty-two 
feet deep. A large boat will carry nearly a mile of these nets. 
The boats go out at sunset, fix their nets, and stay till morn- 
ing. Then they draw them in, and fill the boats with a monstrous 
mass of flopping, struggling fish. 
