The School-house boys of Tom’s standing, one and all, as a protest against this tyranny and cutting short of their lawful amusements, took to fishing in all ways, and especially by means of night-lines. The little tacklemaker at the bottom of the town would soon have made his fortune had the rage lasted, and several of the barbers began to lay in fishing-tackle. The boys had this great advantage over their enemies, that they spent a large portion of the day in nature’s garb by the river-side, and so, when tired of swimming, would get out on the other side and fish, or set night-lines, till the keepers hove in sight, and then plunge in and swim back and mix with the other bathers, and the keepers were too wise to follow across the stream.
While things were in this state, one day Tom and three or four others were bathing at Wratislaw’s, and had, as a matter of course, been taking up and re-setting night-lines. They had all left the water, and were sitting or standing about at their toilets, in all costumes, from a shirt upwards, when they were aware of a man in a velveteen shooting-coat approaching from the other side. He was a new keeper, so they didn’t recognize or notice him, till he pulled up right opposite, and began:
“I see’d some of you young gentlemen over this side a-fishing just now.”
“Hullo! who are you? What business is that of yours, old Velveteens?”
“I’m the new under-keeper, and master’s told me to keep a sharp lookout on all o’ you young chaps. And I tells ’ee I means business, and you’d better keep on your own side, or we shall fall out.”
“Well, that’s right, Velveteens; speak out, and let’s know your mind at once.”
“Look here, old boy,” cried East, holding up a miserable, coarse fish or two and a small jack; “would you like to smell ’em and see which bank they lived under?”