ns about them. But men don't often do so now, no
matter what they see, for one don't like to be laughed at. Well, sir, I
suppose you believe there's more queer things in the sea than most
people know of?"

"Well, yes," said Uncle Paul, "I am beginning to believe more and more
that we who follow out natural history have a great deal to learn."

"Take my word for it, sir, you have. But I dare say you will be
disposed to laugh at me and think that I am making up a bit of gammon,
when I ask you if you remember what a frigate looks like when she has
got all her ports open and her lanterns lit."

"I don't see why I should," said Uncle Paul quietly. "But of course I
have seen a man-of-war like that by night; and a very beautiful object
she is."

"Very, sir. But what should you say if I was to ask you if you had seen
a fish looking like a little frigate with her ports all open and her
lights shining in a couple of rows along her sides--lights that don't
burn, sir, but shine brightly as if they did?"

"Well, I am not a man to laugh at anything new in science, Chubb," said
the doctor quietly, "but between ourselves, your description is a bit
too flowery."

"Not a bit, sir."

"I have seen," continued the doctor, "phosphorescent fish and insects,
and even now, swimming round us, the sea is full of light-giving
creatures, but nothing approaching your frigates with the ports open, or
anything near them."

"Well, sir, I could take you right away to the eastward into the Indian
seas--and I am not romancing, mind, but talking honest truth--I could
take you and squire here, where you could drag up fishermen sort of
fish, big-mouthed fellows ready to swallow what they catches, fish that
guide themselves down in the dark deeps of the sea amongst the seaweed
at the bottom, and there they hang out from the tops of their heads long
barbels that look like worms, and fish with them for other fishes, to
catch them to eat."

"Oh yes, that's right enough, captain," replied the doctor. "You know,
Rodd, that great frog fish, the Father Lasher, as the fishermen call
him. Why, captain, we have got them at home off the Devon coast."

"I know," said the skipper. "I have seen them; but those are not what I
mean. He didn't give me time to finish, squire," continued the skipper,
facing round to Rodd. "My ones out yonder in the Eastern seas always
live down below where it's deep and dark, and where the fishes couldn't
see their baits.