beautiful than can be thought of by one who has never seen the sun rise
over the sea.

"How glorious!" I exclaimed, impulsively.

"Yes; it is a first-rate morning for fishing," said my uncle, whose mind
was evidently upon business, and not upon the beauties of nature.

After rowing about three miles, we stopped, and prepared for fishing.
Each of us had two lines, about twenty feet long. The hooks were about
as big as large trout-hooks. Pewter had been run around the upper part
of them, so that "sinkers" were not required. The pewter answered a
double purpose; it did duty as a sinker, and, being bright, attracted
the notice of the fish. Uncle James had brought with him some clams,
which we cut from their shells and put on the hooks. We threw in our
lines and waited for a bite. We did not wait long, for, in less than a
minute, George cried out, in the most excited manner, "There's a fish on
my hook!"

"Pull, then!" shouted his father.

He was too agitated to pull at first, but, at length, managed to haul in
his line, and, behold, a slender fish, about eight inches long, showing
all the colors of the rainbow, as he held it up in the morning sun! It
was our first mackerel. While admiring George's prize, I suddenly became
aware of a lively tug at one of my own lines. I pulled it in, and found
that I had caught a fish just like the other, only a little larger. No
sooner had I taken it from the hook than my other line was violently
jerked. I hauled it in hurriedly, and on the end of it was--not a
mackerel, but a small, brown fish, with a big head and an enormous