sult of what the Cornishmen
regard as a desecration of "the Lord's Day." The religious sentiment
which prevents the western and southern men from putting off on Sunday is
genuine and sincere enough. The Scotch herring boats, which come in
their thousands to Yarmouth and Lowestoft for the autumn fishing, are
always in harbour from Saturday night to Monday morning, though the local
boats fish all days and nights. But by keeping in harbour the Scotchmen
offend the sensibilities of no one, whereas there is much bitterness
caused in the west by the refusal of the Easterlings to fall in with
local custom.

On March 1st, 1869, FitzGerald wrote to Professor Cowell (_Letters_, II,
107, Eversley Edition):--

"MY DEAR COWELL,

". . . My lugger Captain has just left me to go on his Mackerel Voyage
to the Western Coast; and I don't know when I shall see him again. . .
. You can't think what a grand, tender Soul this is, lodged in a
suitable carcase."

FitzGerald thought very highly of that "carcase" of Posh's, as will be
seen from the story of the Laurence portrait, set forth hereinafter, as
the lawyers, whom Posh hates so much, would say.

The sleeping partner throughout seems to have had more anxiety on account
of Posh's sea hazards than on account of business losses. How the
mackerel paid I do not know, but Posh was in time to go north for the
beginning of the herring fishing in July.

CHAPTER IX
ECCENTRICITIES OF A GOOD HEART

There must always be an interval ashore between the return of the
drifters from the western voyage and their sailing north to follow the
herring down from Aberdeen to Yarmouth. And during this interval, in
1869, FitzGerald wrote one or two letters to Posh which have survived
that wholesale destruction of which their recipient speaks.

"WOODBRIDGE, _Friday_.

"Newson is up here with the Yacht, Posh; and we shall start to-morrow
with the Tide about 10.30. I doubt if we shall get out of the
harbour: or, even if we do that, get to Lowestoft in the Day. But you
can just give a look to the Southward to-morrow evening, or Sunday. I
write this, because we _may_ not have more than a day to stay at
Lowestoft.

"E. FG."

Despite his silk hat and his boa, FitzGerald was a keen and genuine lover
of yachting. Even in the way in which he took his enjoyment of this he
was original. Posh asserts that he has seen his "guv'nor" lying in the
lee scupper