bit ugly, sure enough,
and I've seen many a boy in my time scared by the gashly things. It was
your first one, Master Arthur, and you caught him, and I say as you
warn't a bit scared."

"I--I couldn't help being a little afraid," said Arthur slowly; "but
look! look! it's biting the rope."

"Ay, but it has no strength to bite now," said Josh. "There, we'll put
um in the well, and let um lie there. You caught um--fine
eight-and-thirty pound if it be an ounce. Now you shall catch another."

"What!" gasped Arthur.

"I say, now you shall catch another," said Josh sturdily, as he leaned
over the side and washed disgorger, axe, and hook. "You won't mind half
so much next time, and then your brother won't be able to crow over
you."

"I don't want to catch any more, thank you," said Arthur.

"Oh, yes, you do," said Josh, in his quiet stubborn fashion. "Don't you
say you don't. It won't be half so startling ketching the next one, and
I've got a tender well-beaten bit of squid for the next bait--one as
will tempt the biggest conger that is in the hole."

"No, no!" whispered Arthur. "I don't want to fish any more; I don't
indeed."

"Hush!" whispered Josh; "you'll have them hear."

Arthur was silent directly, and just then his fright was at its height
with the conger that Dick had hooked, and that Will gaffed and hauled
in. For as Will struck at it with the conger-bat or club, instead of
there coming a dull thud as the blow fell, there was the sharp tap of
wood upon wood.

Will had missed this time, and the conger was apparently starting on a
voyage of discovery about the boat.

Arthur shrank back, but before the fish could come his way and tangle
the lines Will caught Dick's about a yard above the hook, dragged the
fish towards the stern, and gave it four or five paralysing blows in
succession, disabling it, so that he soon had the hook out, and he and
Dick stood looking at each other and panting with excitement.

"Hor--hor--hor!" laughed Josh quietly as he seated himself on the thwart
and leisurely began to pass the hook through the grey piece of tough
soft cuttle-fish. "Look at 'em, Master Rawthur, there be a fuss over a
conger not above half as big as ourn."

"It was ever so much stronger," cried Dick indignantly.

"Hear him, Mast Rorthur!" cried Josh. "Hor--hor--hor! There, go on,
you two. We're going to give you a startler this time. There you are,
sir," he whispered, holding up the bait for Art