“I don’t like it, tho’; I can tell you, it makes me feel all over somehow.”

“It will go off, sir, in time; there’s another,” and he pulls in another wriggling fish, and casts him at the bottom of the boat.  “Well, that’s plaguey tiresome, any how—­two! and I’ve cotched nothin’ yet—­how do you do it?”

“Just so—­throw in your hook, and bide a bit—­and you’ll be sure, sir, to feel when there’s any thing on your hook; don’t you feel any thing yet?”

“Why, yes, I feels werry unwell!” cries the landsman; and, bringing up his hook and bait, requests the good-natured boatman to pull for shore, ’like vinkin,’—­which request; the obliging fellow immediately complies with, having agreeably fished at the expense of his fare; and, landing his whitings and the flat, laughs in his sleeve at the qualms of his customer.

But there is always an abundant crop of such fools as he, who pretend to dabble in a science, in utter ignorance of the elements; while, like Jason of old, the wily boatman finds a sheep with a golden fleece,—­although his brains are always too much on the alert to be what is technically termed—­wool-gathering.  Some people are desirous of seeing every thing; and many landsmen have yet to learn, that they may see a deal, without being a-board!