hibition of pleasure or resentment. The hopes | intelligence that he has a subject in hand. And, of fame have been crushed, the ardor with which considering that two medical students are enthey once contended for prizes is quenched. They have reached the summit of their art-destiny; and every attempt to soar higher has failed. There they sit upon their little deal stools, with shabby, dirty paint boxes beside them, wielding huge pallets, and adding their browns and greens with mechanical industry. So do some old ladies, who wear spectacles, and a dingy costume, and who appear to have been at work in the same manner for forty or fifty years.

The male copyists are a motley race. Some are finished dandies, others are the most slovenly fellows it is possible to imagine; some have their hair beautifully brushed and pomatumed, and sport shining coats, apparently worn for the first time: others are in greasy, threadbare garments, adopt the negligent style of coiffure, and are not sufficiently ostentatious to wash hands or face very frequently. It may be perhaps noticed that the latter are, generally, better artists than the well-pomatumed copyists. One very dandified old gentleman who attends the gallery may be remarked for the care with which he envelopes his arms up to the elbows in black satin bags, to preserve his coat from contact with paint or varnishes.

titled only to five subjects-as they delicately call them-per annum between them, it will be seen that to be in actual possession of one of these is to be in luck's way entirely. "We have two bodies and a half each," said a ghastly little student to us one day, as he handed us the biscuit de Rheims, which represented our dessert on the occasion. It was fortunate that the subject rapidly changed to one of punch. To get up a punch party is, in the estimation of the student, a highly pleasant way of finishing an idle morning; and it is amusing to watch the excitement with which the diners who drop in to the table d'hôte are requested to add their fifteen sous to the punch subscription, A sufficient number of contributors having been obtained, the best available rooms are selected, and the contractor for the entertainment proceeds to buy three or four pounds of lump sugar, two or three bottles of brandy, a bottle of Kirsch water, one of rum, a heap of biscuits, and a huge baba! These materials are arranged upon the mantelpiece of the room selected for the entertainment; the guests assemble, each man bringing his own tumbler from his own washing-stand; two or three walk up and down learning off songs from bits of paper, with an excited air; and the landlady sends up a message, declaring that she will not allow any singing on the part of messieurs les locataires after eleven o'clock. This message is received with shouts of derision; the young fellows skip about the ponch bol (which is the French-English for a common brown earthenware pan); examine the contents of the bottles; and stop every man who begins a song, by declaring that he is anticipating the entertainment. Then the master of the ceremonies opens the proceedings by making a kettleful of green tea over a spirit lamp. This accomplished, he half fills the bowl with sugar; then empties a bottle of brandy and

The student's idle day is spent altogether near the Panthéon. There are many cafés at hand, where, when he is tired of the pictures and the gardens of the Luxembourg, he may have his absinthe or his billiards: or there are cabinets where he can have his two sous worth of popular literature. But he is possibly not inclined even for the lightest reading, and strolls back to the nourriture simple et fortifiante: which he enjoys at his hotel, together with his fodging, for about four dollars per week. The simplicity of the food to be had at a student's hotel, at this price, is as questionable, perhaps, as its fortifying qualities. Yet, at dinner, it includes two or three dishes, a dessert of course, and wine. But then a cauli-a considerable quantity of rum upon it. The next flower is a course in itself, and a tea-spoonful of jelly supports, unaided, the dignity of a dessert. Still the student is gay at his dinner; and will get up, between the courses, with one of his companions, dance a polka round the table, and resume his seat. He eats his simple and fortifying fare, laughing at it all the time. Perhaps this laughter helps his digestion. We remember the ecstasies with which a young fellow was one day received at dinner, who had returned from the Longchamps fair in the Champs Elysées, with the intelligence that there was a living skeleton exhibiting there, who, he said, had been brought up at a student's hotel, on nourriture simple et fortifiante. On another occasion the production of an omelette au rhum caused a great sensation at the same student's hotel: the wild guests skipping round the table, shouting, as they pointed to the effort of culinary genius, "Ah! Quel luxe!" What a luxury!

The dinner conversation is interspersed generally with medical and legal anecdotes. One gentleman excuses his absence from a party by the

proceeding is to light the spirit. This accomplished, all the candles are extinguished, and to the glare of the blue flame from the punch bowl, which mounts a considerable height, the wild young fellows open their concert. As they gesticulate and shout about the bowl, they look like the burlesque demons, blue and tinseled, which are the delight of children in the opening of a Christmas pantomime. Their songs are chiefly laments over the degenerate days of the old Quartier Latin.

The punch having burned for about three quarters of an hour, is ladled out to the guests; pipes are lighted; and lively conversation is carried on. Suddenly it is suggested that the hour for dancing has arrived. The door of an adjoining room is thrown open, disclosing an apartment regularly cleared for a polka. A stranger instantly wonders where the ladies are coming from; but he is soon relieved from any doubt by an invitation from one of the young men to dance with him. The night is warm; the windows are thrown open; the students remove their coats; and then,

sist some degree of bad weather, and having, almost invariably, excellent sailing qualities. The latter, indeed, is a necessary qualification in a vessel intended for this business, as the success of a voyage, in many instances, depends on a vessel getting to a certain place, where fish have been discovered, an hour sooner or later. The crew, consisting of from eight to twenty hands, according to the size of the vessel, are not paid a

to the fiddle of a fellow-student, dance a quadrille | caught are small but stoutly built, formed to reamong themselves. The quadrille is followed by a polka; and then the second bowl of punch is lighted this time a bowl of Kirsch punch. Then the great cake or baba is cut up and demolished, amidst practical jokes, usually played in England by children not exceeding the age of twelve. And then follow songs; and eau-de-vie de Dantzig; and romping; and the usual consequences of punch. With a light song, however, and a steady candlestick, the gay fellows skip off to bed, push-salary, but have a community of interest, all uniting and playing practical jokes upon one another, as they run up the broad staircase of the hotel.

MA

HOW MACKEREL ARE CAUGHT. ACKEREL fishing affords a livelihood to a large number of the hardiest inhabitants of our northeastern Atlantic shores. The fishery is pursued in small vessels of from thirty to one hundred and twenty tons, and invariably of the "schooner" rig, that is, having two masts, and "fore and aft" sails. The business commences in the latter part of March, when the mackerel first return to our coasts from their winter's absence in more southern waters, and lasts until the end of November. At that time the fishand of course their pursuers also-have made the entire circuit of our eastern coast, from the capes of Delaware, off which they are first seen in early spring, to the extreme borders of Maine and the bays of British America, and back again as far as the headland of Cape Cod. Thence the fish -about Thanksgiving Day-take their final departure for their as yet undiscovered winter quar

ters.

ing to pay the expenses incurred for provisions, etc., the vessel's share, the captain's percentage, etc., the remainder of the catch being divided in the exact proportion which each man's original catch bears to that of the rest. The captain is generally an old and experienced fisherman, and on him devolve the cares and responsibilities of finding and keeping the run of the mackerel, keeping the reckoning of the vessel, ordering and superintending the making and taking in sail, going into harbor, etc. He has, however, no dignity, but receives obedience only from the acknowledged principle that every well-regulated household should have a head. A mackerel vessel is indeed as complete a little republic as one could well find, ability being the only criterion of merit, and one's "standing in society" being regulated pretty much by his usefulness to the community, that is, by his skill as a fisherman.

The total number of American vessels employed in this fishery is somewhat over eighteen hundred. Fully one third of this number are owned in Cape Ann, where a large amount of capital is invested in fisheries of various kinds. The greater part of the Cape Ann fleet has for some years past resorted to the Bay Chaleur, and the waters surrounding Prince Edward's Island for, its fair of fish, Here their success has, as is known, raised the envy of the colonists, who, in the veritable dog-in-the-manger spirit, religiously pre

dom, have petitioned their government to forbid the further encroachments of enterprising Brother Jonathan on these vast preserves, which, however, they themselves have not sufficient enterprise to use.

All attempts made by enterprising fishermen to follow the mackerel after they leave "the Cape" have hitherto proved utterly futile, every trace of the vast school which annually congregates there being invariably lost within fifty miles of the south shoals of Nantucket. Many different surmises have been offered to account for their sudden disappearance, and various theories started, by those curious in such matters, to ex-served by these devoted adherents to Old Fogyplain the why and wherefore of the eccentric motions of a school of mackerel. But the matter is apparently just as much in the dark as ever, and their disappearance about Thanksgiving time remains as much a subject for speculation as the similar annual disappearance of swallows. Many, wise in such matters, think that the fish, after leaving our coast, lie at the bottom of the sea, in comparatively shoal water, in a state of stupefaction, until the return of warm weather; others suppose that they emigrate to warmer latitudes, where they swim deep beneath the surface, in order to keep themselves in a temperature suited to their nature; and many old fishermen devoutly believe that after leaving us they are, somehow, changed into fish of an entirely different species, and are met with in the tropical seas as albicores, bonita, etc. All that we know on the subject is that those which leave us at the beginning of winter are of moderate size, but very fat; while those which return in the spring are large, extremely poor, and ravenously hungry.

The vessels in which the fish are pursued and

Of the balance of the mackerel fleet three-fourths is owned on various parts of Cape Cod, and the remainder in the many little harbors scattered along our eastern coast. The Bay Chaleur fleet is, of course, entirely separated from the rest, which follow up the mackerel frequenting our coast more particularly. These latter form a fleet of from six hundred to a thousand vessels, cruising in one vast body, and spreading over many miles of water, and keeping up a constant although silent and imperceptible communication, by means of incessant watching with good spyglasses, which is so complete that a vessel at one end of the fleet can not have mackerel “alongside," technically speaking, five minutes, before every vessel in a circle, the diameter of which may be ten miles, will be aware of the fact, and every man of the ten thousand composing their crews

HOW MACKEREL ARE CAUGHT.

in it sees the first glimmering of a near approach to home with all its happiness. The morning found us passing the group denominated the Elizabethan Isles, and gliding rapidly by Tarpaulin Cove, Holmes' Hole, and the Shoals. At 11 o'clock A.M. we were safely moored in the little harbor whence I was to start on my fishing expedition.

will be engaged in spreading to the wind every | clothing, comforters, and the sundry other appliavailable stitch of canvas to force each little bark ances in vogue among fishermen and sailors, to as quickly as possible into close proximity to the exclude salt water, and include comfort. This coveted prize. And then commences the trial of done, I took passage in a little schooner bound to speed. Then the best helmsman is called to the Cape, and was soon merrily gliding up the steer, and every eye watches the sails, to see crowded waters of the East River, with favoring that they draw well, and every hand is ready to wind and tide. At noon we passed through Hurljump to remedy any defect. Then is the anxious gate, that dread of the sturdy Dutch settler, who moment for fishermen, for they see spread out whilom saw in its whirling eddies, impetuous curbefore them a vast school of fish, in the midst of rents, and roaring breakers, the angry struggles which lie the few favored vessels which have suc- of many demons, eager to swallow up his frail bark ceeded in raising them, and are now reaping a and himself. Thanks to the science of Professor golden harvest. This is indeed the most exciting Maillefert, and the liberality of our great Uncle scene in the experience of a mackerel catcher. Samuel, the worst of the dangers attending the It happened some years since that "the fleet" passage of this strait are now removed, and had, upon occasion of an approaching storm, gone Hurlgate is divested of its terrors to the coasting into the harbor of Cape Ann. After lying there skipper. A strong breeze and favoring tides two days the weather moderated and became fine, urged us quickly past the beautiful shore of Long and the fleet got under way very early one morn-Island, and midnight already saw us nearing the eastern extremity of "the Sound," and in plain ing. The first little squad of about a dozen vessels, who were probably the most eager fisher-sight of Block Island Light, beacon of joy to many men, had about forty minutes' start of the main a tempest-tossed, voyage-wearied whaleman, who body of the fleet. They had hardly got well clear of the land before they "struck" mackerel, and at once "hove to" and never got under way again until their decks were filled-the fish biting all the time as fast as possible. In the mean time the balance of the fleet had just time to get to the entrance of the harbor, and in plain sight of their fortunate companions, when it fell a dead calm; and they were actually forced to lie there, within three or four miles of a vast school of fish, without feeling a bite. Could any one imagine any thing more tantalizing than such a situation? The fish are caught with hook and line, each fisherman using two lines. When hauled on board they are "struck" off by a peculiarly quick" away down East." My short stay on shore did motion of the right hand and arm, into a "strike barrel" standing behind and a little to the right of its proprietor. The same motion which leaves the mackerel in the barrel also suffices to project the hook (which has a little pewter run on its shank) back into the water, and the fisherman immediately catches up his other line, going So raventhrough the same manœuvre with it. ously do the fish bite, that a barrel full is sometimes caught in fifteen minutes by a single man. The bait used to entice them alongside, and keep them there afterward, consists of a mixture of clams, and a little fish known by the euphonious name of "porgies." The last are seined in great quantities every summer in the mouth of the Connecticut river, and the adjacent waters, and are used by farmers as manure for their land, as well as by mackerel catchers as bait. This bait is ground up fine in a mill provided on board for the purpose, and is then thrown out on the water. It sinks to the depth at which the fish lie, when they, in their eagerness for it, follow it up until they get alongide the vessel, when they bite indiscriminately at bait or naked hook.

Almost any kind of fishing is likely to be rather damp work. My first care, therefore, after having made up my mind to "go a-fishing," was to provide myself with a plentiful supply of flannels, mittens, stockings, sea-boots, sou'-westers, oil

After a stay of a few days on shore, I took myself and luggage on board a smart-looking little clipper, the Mary H., which had been in want of a hand. Taking advantage of a favoring wind, we were soon on our way to join the fleet, which was at the time cruising off the Isles of Shoals,

not give me as many opportunities as I wished for, and afterward had, of observing the general habits of the people while on shore, and the nature of the country in which they grow up. It sufficed, however, to convince me that the Cape is not the most pleasant spot on the surface of our globe. The face of the country affords a not overagreeable diversity of views, consisting of sand hills and salt water marshes, scrub oaks and stunted pines, the ground-work and filling-up of the picture being sand, the abundance of which amply entitles the country to the name bestowed upon it by a late traveler, "the Great Desert of Cape Cod." The people evidently place greater value upon articles of utility than of luxury, are very shrewd, even to the little children, good calculators, and are noted far and wide for their smartness and enterprise, which almost invariably insure them success in any pursuit in which they embark, and without which it seems to me they would fare but poorly on so sterile a soil as they possess.

Detained by calms and head winds, we get along but slowly on our way down East. The monotony of our life is occasionally broken into by a short conversation with some homeward-bound fishermen, whose news from the fleet makes us anxious to be with them. The arrangement of our fish-gear, in which true fishermen, as is well

known, are very particular, keeps all hands em- us that we are too wide apart for speaking purployed. Lines are measured, towed out, stretch-poses. ed, and put on the rail; pigs are cast, and filed, and polished into shapes to suit the fancies of their owners; cleats are nailed up, on which to coil the lines when not in use; splitting knives are ground, gib-tubs got ready, and all the numerous paraphernalia of a fishing smack are brought into readiness for instant use,

At sunset on the sixth day we sight a few of the advance vessels of the fleet, and a little breeze springing up at the same time, we have the satisfaction of beholding before retiring to rest the vast fleet of vessels spread out before us, their innumerable lights glistening upon the smooth expanse of ocean, and dancing solemnly up and down on the great swell which the Atlantic ever keeps up, and much more resembling the vessels in a vast naval panorama than a scene of real life. There is something solemn and thought-inspiring in a scene like this, at all events to a thinking person, who for the first time witnesses it. The entire stillness which reigns by night over this vast aquatic town, the absence of all noise, except | the continual faint roar of the swell, the sorrowful creaking of the rigging, and the solitary "sug" of the vessel's bow, as she falls into the trough of the sea; the bare poles of the distant vessels thrown in vivid, almost unnatural relief against the sky; the crazy motion of the little barks, as they are tossed about at the mercy of the waves, having scarce steerage way; the lonely-looking light on the mast, seeming to be the spirit which has entire charge of the hull beneath; the absence of all life where but a short time ago all was life and bustle; all this contrasted so strangely with the lively appearance of the vessels by day, as they skim rapidly over the waters, their great piles of snow-white canvas gleaming gayly in the sun, and their crews moving merrily about decks, as to make me almost doubt that there were in fact in the shapeless masses drifting past us, hither and thither, at the mercy of wind and wave, men stout and able, who had often battled for their lives with the same old Ocean upon whose bosom they were now so placidly reposing.

But here is one, rolling toward us,

"As silent as a painted ship, upon a painted ocean," and seemingly just as likely to hit us as not. We will hail him.

"Schooner ahoy!" hails our captain. "Hillo!" is answered by a tall figure which now rises from a reclining posture on the companion-hatch.

"How many mackerel did you get to-day?" "About twenty wash-barrels, mostly large." "Did the fleet do any thing?"

Standing a little further on, into the thickest part of the fleet, we too, about nine o'clock, haul down our mainsail and jibs, and, leaving one man on deck as look-out, go down below to prepare by a sound sleep for the labors of to-morrow.

At early daybreak we "turn out" and make sail. Although yet too dark to distinguish the numerous fleet in whose midst we have taken our place, our ears are saluted on all sides by the rattle of ropes, the creak of blocks, and rustling of canvas, and we are conscious that ten thousand men are actively employed around us, at the same moment, in the same work, and preparing for similar duties and labors.

As the day breaks fairly a grand spectacle bursts upon our view. The sky is clear, and the sun, as he rises above the eastern horizon, gilds with his rays the sails of a thousand vessels, as they lie spread out upon the mirror-like surface of the sea. And now our crew begin looking for acquaintances among the vessels, and my astonishment is unbounded at hearing them name vessels distant from a quarter of a mile to six or seven miles, and that with perfect certainty of their correctness. To such perfection has practice trained the vision of these men, that notwithstanding mackerel catchers are scrupulously rigged alike, the crew would point out not only vessels with which they were acquainted, but also tell the hailing-places of many that they had never seen before. As an “Old Salt,” I prided myself not a little on my expertness in detecting differences in rig or build, but was obliged here to give my art up as completely beaten. For where I could not detect the slightest distinguishing characteristic, the experienced eyes of one of my companions would at one glance reveal the whole history of the vessel in question, and would enable him to tell, with a certainty which scarcely ever failed, the place where she was built, where rigged, and where at present owned. This wonderful faculty is the result of keen eyes and long experience, and is found nowhere else in such perfection as among American fishermen.

And now we are all under way and going, closehauled to the wind, in a northerly direction. See, the headmost vessel of the fleet is in stays. There the next one tacks. Little squads of half-a-dozen now follow suit, and in fifteen minutes the whole fleet is on the other tack, standing to the westward. And so we go all day, working to the windward as fast as the light breeze will bear us along. Every once in a while some one heaves to and tries for mackerel. But mackerel wont bite well, in general, on such a day as this, and

"Some of them lay still a good while, and I this day we don't see a live one at all. The utguess had pretty good fishing.'

Here some of our crew mutter out a weak imprecation upon the weather, which has prevented us from joining the fleet before. Our friend hails

us

"Are you just from home?"

"Yes; all well there."-And the faint sound of the waves as they surge under his bows tells

most harmony of sentiment seems to prevail among this large fleet, the unity of action being as complete as though working by signal at the commands of some commodore. It is just the same in going into port, or in changing the cruising ground. They all go together. But with all this they have no organized head or leader, but each captain acts as seems to him best. There

seems, however, at all times to be a remarkable | captain, you haul back too savagely!" With the unanimity of sentiment among all hands. first movement of the captain's arm indicating the presence of fish, every body rushes madly to the rail, and jigs are heard on all sides plashing into the water, and eager hands and arms are stretched at their full length over the side, feeling anxiously for a nibble.

Mackerel go in large schools, one of which contains fish enough, if all caught, to fill up every vessel in a fleet. But, vast as such a body is, it occupies but a very small space in the ocean which supports it. A school of fish therefore is

"Sh-hish-there's something just passed my fly-I felt him," says an old man standing alongside of me.

"Yes, and I've got him," triumphantly shouts out the next man on the other side of him, hauling in as he speaks a fine mackerel, and striking him off into his barrel in the most approved style.

Z-Z-zip goes my line through and deep into my poor fingers, as a huge mackerel rushes savagely away with what he finds is not so great a prize as he thought it. I get confoundly flurried, miss stroke half a dozen times in hauling in as many fathoms of line, and at length succeed in landing my first fish safely in my barrel, where he flounders away "most melodiously” as my neighbor says.

And now it is fairly daylight, and the rain, which has been threatening all night, begins to pour down in right earnest. And as the heavy drops patter on the sea the fish begin to bite fast and furiously.

"Shorten up," says the skipper, and we shorten in our lines to about eight feet from the rail to the hooks, when we can jerk them in just as fast as we can move our hands and arms.

to be searched out much as one would look for a needle in a haystack-unwearying patience and determination being qualifications as necessary to constitute a successful fisherman as to make one a fortunate searcher for needles. In hunting mackerel, a large fleet, spreading over an extensive area of "ground," and throwing much bait, is much more likely to raise a school than a single vessel or small squad, and this is the reason why "the fleet" is a permanency in mackereling. Toward evening the wind goes down, the sky is overcast by white clouds, and the weather becomes a pea-jacket colder. Having found no fish all day, we take in sail early, see every thing clear for a “fish-day” to-morrow, and, all but the watch (one man) go to bed about eight o'clock. At midnight, when I am called up out of my warm bed to stand an hour's watch, I find the vessel pitching uneasily, and hear the breeze blowing fitfully through the naked rigging, and going on deck perceive that both wind and sea have "got up" since we retired to rest. The sky looks lowering, and the clouds are evidently surcharged with rain. In fine the weather, as my predecessor on watch informs me, bears every sign of an excellent fish-day on the morrow. I accordingly" Keep your lines clear," is now the word, as grind some bait, sharpen up my hooks once more, see my lines clear, and my heaviest jigs (the technical term for hooks with pewter run on them), on the rail ready for use, and at one o'clock return to my comfortable bunk. I am soon again asleep, and dreaming of hearing firebells ringing, and seeing men rush to the fire; and just as I see "the machine" round the corner of the street, am startled out of my propriety, my dream, sleep, and all, by the loud cry of "Fish ho!" I start up desperately in my narrow bunk, bringing my cranium in violent contact with a beam overhead, which has the effect of knocking me flat down in my berth again. After recovering as much consciousness as is necessary to appreciate my position, I roll out of bed, jerk savagely at my boots, and snatching up my cap and pea-jacket, make a rush at the companion-way, up which I manage to fall in my haste, and then spring into the hold for a strike-barrel.

And now the mainsail is up, the jib down, and the captain is throwing bait. It is not yet quite light, but we hear other mainsails going up all round us. A cool drizzle makes the morning unmistakably uncomfortable, and we stand around half asleep, with our sore hands in our pockets, wishing we were at home. The skipper, however, is holding his lines over the rail with an air which clearly intimates that the slightest kind of a nibble will be quite sufficient this morning to seal the doom of a mackerel.

the doomed fish flip faster and faster into the barrels standing to receive them. Here is one greedy fellow already casting furtive glances behind him, and calculating in his mind how many fish he will have to lose in the operation of getting his second strike-barrel.

Now you hear no sound except the steady flip of fish into the barrels. Every face wears an expression of anxious determination; every body moves as though by springs; every heart beats loud with excitement, and every hand hauls in fish and throws out hooks with a methodical precision, a kind of slow haste, which unites the greatest speed with the utmost security against fouling lines.

We are

And now the rain increases. We hear jibs rattling down; and glancing up hastily, I am surprised to find our vessel surrounded on all sides by the fleet, which has already become aware that we have got fish alongside. Meantime the wind rises, the sea struggles against the rain, which is endeavoring with its steady patter to subdue the turmoil of old Ocean. already on our third barrel each, and still the fish come in as fast as ever, and the business (sport it has ceased to be some time since) continues with vigor undiminished. Thick beads of perspiration chase each other down our faces. Jackets, caps, and even over-shirts are thrown off, to give more freedom to limbs that are worked to their utmost.

"Hillo! where are the fish?" All gone? Every line is felt eagerly for a bite, but not the faintest