flare away too quickly. By the blaze of my grassy torches I saw F---
first seize Mr. U--- round the waist and drag him further from the
bank; but the latter called out, "It's my hands,--they have no skin
left: do catch hold, there's a good fellow." So the "good fellow"
did catch hold, but he was too experienced an eel-fisher to try to
lift a couple of dozen pounds weight of eels out of the water by a
perpendicular string; so he tied it to a flax-bush near, and,
stooping down in order to get some leverage over the bank, very soon
drew the ball, with its slimy, wriggling captives, out of the water.
Just as he jerked it far on shore, one or two of the creatures broke
loose and escaped, leaving quite enough to afford a most disgusting
and horrible sight as they were shuffled and poked into the empty
flour-sack.

The sportsmen were delighted however, and departed to a fresh bend
of the creek, leaving me to find my way back to my original post.
This would have been difficult indeed, had not Nettle remained
behind to guard my gloves, which I had left in his custody. As I
passed, not knowing I was so near the spot, the little dog gave a
low whimper of greeting, sufficient to attract my attention and
guide me to where he was keeping his faithful watch and ward. I
felt for my flax-stick and moved it ever so gently. A sudden jerk
and splash startled me horribly, and warned me that I had disturbed
an eel who was in the act of supping off my bait. In the momentary
surprise I suppose I let go, for certain it is that the next instant
my flax-stick was rapidly towed down the stream.

Instead of feeling provoked or mortified, it was the greatest relief
to know that my eel-fishing was over for the night, and that now I
had nothing to do except "wait till called for." So I took Nettle