"They took the arms ashore, and sold them to a man named Dr. Harvey. Everybody had been making fun of Dr. Harvey because he said there was such a thing as the giant squid. "The Doctor hated strong drink, and so the clerks at the store of Job Brothers here in St. John's were very much surprised when Dr. Harvey rushed in and shouted: 'I want a barrel of rum!' "Then he told them what he wanted it for--he wanted to send the giant squid to the Royal Society in London. The parts of the arms cut off were nineteen feet long. "Later on, somebody who heard about it brought him an octopus that was lying dead on the water, whose reach was forty feet from tip to tip." "How do they catch the octopus for bait?" asked Harry. "It's exciting work. You see, besides having arms like a windmill, with curious sucking saucers on them, the octopus has a beak like a parrot, with awful teeth, and it can bite like anything. "You'll see a cluster of rowboats anchored close together, and the fishermen are jigging up and down a little bright red leaden weight, bristling with spikes. "Suddenly there's a stir. The squids have come rushing in, and they bite at those jiggers like a terrier after a rat. "When the squids get those spiked weights in their mouths and are being hauled aboard--look out! "All of a sudden--just the way people squirt things in the movies--they shoot out jets of ink at the fishermen. "It stings like anything if it gets into your eyes and it ruins your clothes." "How much do the squid cost when you buy them for bait?" asked Harry, who had a practical mind. "Fifteen or twenty cents a hundred for the little ones." "That isn't much for all that work," said Harry. Dr. Grenfell smiled. "You'll find that the fishermen do lots of hard work for very little pay, Harry," he answered. "What other kind of bait do they use for the cod?" "Caplin--a small fish like a sardine--and herring. Sand eels and white-fish sometimes. Bits of sea-gulls, and even rubber fish with hooks. Mussels don't hold well on the hooks." Harry looked thoughtful. "I suppose it makes a lot o' difference, having just the right kind o' bait." "All the difference in the world," the Doctor agreed. "If a man can't please the fish, he might as well burn his nets and boats and leave the sea.--But I was telling you about the cod-traps. "While the fish are following their leader, like so many sheep, in at the door of the trap, along comes the man they call the trap-master. He has a tube with plain glass in the bottom, and he puts it down over the side of the boat and looks through it to see if the trap is full. "When he thinks it's full enough, the door is pulled up so the fish can't get out, and the floor of the trap is hauled to the surface. "As it is lifted, a big dipper is put in, and the fish are ladled into the boat. "When the boat is full, the rest of the fish are put into big net bags. These are tied to buoys, so the fishermen may come back later and get them."