"Hold on a bit!" cried Maggot, as, with rolled-up sleeves, dishevelled
hair, and glaring eyes, he threw one leg over the side of the boat, the
more easily to continue his work.

"Have a care," cried Oliver at that moment, stretching out his hand; but
he was too late. The excitable smith had overbalanced himself, and was
already head and shoulders deep down among the pilchards, which sprang
high over him, as if in triumph!

To catch him by the legs, and pull him back into the boat, was the work
of a moment, but the proceedings were not interrupted by the mishap. A
laugh greeted the smith as he was turned head up, and immediately he
braced himself to his arduous labour with renewed energy.

The boat filled, it was rowed to the shore, and here was received by
eager and noisy men, women, and children, by whom the precious contents
were carried to the "cellars," or salting-houses, where they were packed
in the neatest possible piles, layer on layer, heads and tails, with a
sprinkling of salt between.

Maggot's family had followed him to Penberth. Mrs M was there, busy as
a bee--so was Zackey, so was little Grace, and so was the baby. They
all worked like Trojans, the only difference between baby Maggot and the
others being, that, while they did as much work as in them lay, he undid
as much as possible; was in every one's way; fell over and into
everything, including the sea, and, generally, fulfilled his mission of
mischief-maker with credit. The chet was there too! Baby Maggot had
decreed that it should accompany him, so there it was, living on
pilchards, and dragging out its harassed existence in the usual way.
What between salt food, and play, kicks, cuffs, capers, and gluttony,
its aspect at that time was more demoniacal, perhaps, than that of any
other chet between John o' Groat's and the Land's End.

Volumes would scarcely contain all that might be written about this
wonderful scene, but enough has been said to indicate the process
whereby Maggot secured and salted some hundreds of thousands of
pilchards. The enclosing of the fish was the result of a few minutes'
work, but the salting and packing were not ended for many days. The
result, however, was that the lucky smith sent many hogsheads of
pilchards the way of most Cornish fish--namely, to the Mediterranean,
for consumption by Roman Catholics, and in due course he received the
proceeds, to the extent of three thousand pounds.

Thus did Maggot auspi