with such skill that you might see that if Austin Caxton had been an
angler of fishes, he could have filled his basket full any day, shine or
rain.

"You observe, Bolt," said my father, beginning artfully, "that those
fishes, dull as you may think them; are creatures capable of a
syllogism; and if they saw that, in proportion to their civility to me,
they were depopulated by you, they would put two and two together, and
renounce my acquaintance."

"Is that what you call being silly Jems, sir?" said Bolt. "Faith! there
is many a good Christian not half so wise."

"Man," answered my father, thoughtfully, "is an animal less
syllogistical or more silly-Jemical, than many creatures popularly
esteemed his inferiors. Yes, let but one of those Cyprinidae, with his
fine sense of logic, see that if his fellow-fishes eat bread, they, are
suddenly jerked out of their element and vanish forever, and though you
broke a quartern loaf into crumbs, he would snap his tail at you with
enlightened contempt. If," said my father, soliloquizing, "I had been
as syllogistic as those scaly logicians, I should never have swallowed
that hook which--Hum! there--least said soonest mended. But, Mr. Bolt,
to return to the Cyprinidae."

"What's the hard name you call them 'ere carp, yer honor?" asked Bolt.

"Cyprinidae,--a family of the section Malacoptergii Abdominales,"
replied Mr. Caxton; "their teeth are generally confined to the
Pharyngeans, and their branehiostegous rays are but few,--marks of
distinction from fishes vulgar and voracious."