would arise the certainty of varied and striking
incident. The _Nancy_ would go crashing into the bows of the
_Coquette_, the bowsprit of the _Rallier_ would stir up the cabin of the
_Truant_, the tail of the _Faith_ would get entangled with that of the
_Cherub_, and both might hook on to the tail of the _Playfellow_; in
short, the awful result would be wreck and wretchedness on the North
Sea, howling despair in the markets of Columbia and Billingsgate, and no
fish for breakfast in the great metropolis. There is reason for most
things--specially good reason for the laws that regulate the fisheries
of the North Sea, the fleets of which are over twelve in number, and the
floating population over twelve thousand men and boys.

For several hours this shoal of vessels, with full sails and twinkling
lights, like a moving city on the deep, continued to tug and plunge
along over the "banks" of the German ocean, to the satisfaction of the
fishermen, and the surprise no doubt of the fish. About midnight the
admiral again signalled, by rocket and flares, "Haul up," and
immediately, with capstan, bar, and steam, the obedient crews began to
coil in their tails.

It is not our intention to trouble the reader with a minute account of
this process or the grand result, but, turning to a particular smack, we
solicit attention to that. She is much like the others in size and rig.
Her name is the _Lively Poll_. Stephen Lockley is her skipper, as fine
a young fisherman as one could wish to see--tall, handsome, free,
hearty, and powerful. But indeed all deep-sea fishermen possess the
last quality. They would be useless if not physically strong. Many a
Samson and Hercules is to be found in the North Sea fleets. "No better
nursery or training-school in time of war," they say. That may be true,
but it is pleasanter to think of them as a training-school for times of
peace.

The night was very dark. Black clouds overspread the sky, so that no
light save the dim rays of a lantern cheered the men as they went tramp,
tramp, round the capstan, slowly coiling in the trawl-warp. Sheets of
spray sometimes burst over the side and drenched them, but they cared
nothing for that, being pretty well protected by oilskins, sou'-westers,
and sea-boots. Straining and striving, sometimes gaining an inch or
two, sometimes a yard or so, while the smack plunged and kicked, the
contest seemed like a doubtful one between _vis inertiae_ and the human
w