In less time than it takes to write this down the joy of life had departed for that lad and he was carefully laid away. The lone layman of the party was a close second, and, losing all interest in mackerel, he stretched himself out on deck. The Professor followed suit, and Dr. G., after a heroic struggle, proceeded to part company not only with one breakfast, but, seemingly, with a dozen or more. The captain, who was an interested spectator of the process, murmured to the writer, “Holy mackerel! What an eater that man must be.” All day we rolled and pitched, with three of the party groaning to be put on shore. We caught only a few mackerel, but we had a great deal of exercise. How do we catch mackerel? As you are asking how we do it, and not how it is done by the heartless, unimaginative, commercialized Philistines who chase the schools in steam vessels, I’ll tell you. The night before, the captain gets the fodder ready. I mean the fodder for the mackerel, not for the fishermen. It is about as nauseous a mess as one can imagine. Salted menhaden and the refuse from scallops are ground up together, forming a mass of about the consistency of thick molasses. There is the grinder now, just inside the cabin! Looks like a big coffee-mill. We usually start early in the morning, sometimes before daylight, in order to take advantage of a favourable tide. When we are out to sea a sharp lookout is kept for that peculiar ripple on the surface of the water which denotes the presence of a school of mackerel. When we have sailed to the spot we “come-to” and drift with the tide, while dipperful after dipperful of the “chum”--as the sticky and malodorous mess is called--is thrown out upon the water. The mackerel will throng about the boat to feed upon this dainty, and then the fishing begins. Empty barrels on deck, a line--some fifteen feet long--in each hand, with hooks that are set into pieces of lead forming a “squid,” and the sport begins. It is usual to bait with a piece of mackerel belly, pure white; but very often the greedy fish will bite at the shining lead. You do not stop to unhook the fish, but simply slap them over into the barrel behind you, and then out with the hook again. Sport? Yes, of a sort. Gets a little monotonous after a while. The captain fishes for the Boston market, so we have no twinges of conscience about catching as many as possible.