The insinuating address of the boatmen is, however, irresistible; and if
they cannot induce you to make a sail to catch the wind, they will set
forth, in all the glowing colors of a dying dolphin, the pleasurable
sport of catching fish!

They tell you of a gentleman, who, "the other day, pulled up, in a single
hour, I don't know how many fish, weighing I don't know how much." And
thus baited, some unwise gentleman unfortunately nibbles, and he is
caught. A bargain is struck, 'the boat is on the shore,' the lines and
hooks are displayed, and the victim steps in, scarcely conscious of what
he is about, but full well knowing that he is going to sea!

They put out to sea, and casting their baited hooks, the experienced
fisherman soon pulls up a fine lively whiting.

"Ecod!" exclaims the cockney, with dilated optics, "this is fine--why
that 'ere fish is worth a matter of a shilling in London--Do tell me how
you cotched him."

"With a hook!" replied the boatman.

"To be sure you did--but why did'nt he bite mine?"

"'Cause he came t'other side, I s'pose."

"Vell, let me try that side then," cries the tyro, and carefully changes
his position.--"Dear me, this here boat o'yourn wobbles about rayther,
mister."

"Nothing, sir, at all; it's only the motion of the water."