and content than the average working-man I have met on land. Day by day, and week by week, a more cheerful company, kind, pleasant and accommodating, it would be hard to find. Saturday night was a happy hour. At sunset the lines were snugly coiled, the decks washed, and a single watch set for twenty-four hours. Sunday was a day of rest. The bright, unfaltering star that never set or dimmed, that robbed the voyage of half its discomforts and terrors, was going home. How pleasant the anticipation, how glad the welcome, how lavish the store!” Mackerel-fishing was a separate art acquired in its perfection by the progression of many devices. Here, again, we quote from Rich. “Laying-to, or a square dead drift, throwing bait freely, coying the fish, was found the most successful. By this way, with a moderate breeze, a school could sometimes be kept around a vessel for hours. As many as one hundred and fifty wash barrels have been caught by hook and line at a single drift. A fleet of hundreds of sail, laying-to and beating up to the windward to keep on the school is a fine marine picture. ‘High-line’ is the highest degree conferred in this school. It outranks all others. The fishermen of Truro were among the first to follow the mackerel business and Truro has had a remarkable succession of leading or lucky skippers.” It is a delight to read Mr. Rich’s history, and we must repeat two of his stories of “fisherman’s luck.” A certain Captain Ryder was one of a large fleet of fishermen that were lying wind-bound in Hampton Roads. The young captain, in the face of probability, determined to try for a breeze outside. There he took “a fairish wind so he could slant along and saw no more land nor sky till he struck the shore in Portland Harbor. Here he had quick despatch as vessels were scarce,” and returned to Hampton Roads to find the fleet weather-bound as he had left them, waiting still for fair conditions to put to sea. Another Truro fisherman, who had the name of making fortunate voyages, once shipped a seaman with the opposite reputation. “I hear, skipper, you’ve shipped Uncle Wiff,” protested one of the crew. “I won’t go with him. He’s a ‘Jonas.’ You won’t make a dollar.” “I’ve told Uncle Wiff he may go, and go he shall, make or break, whether you go or not,” returned the cap’n. The result justified his courage. “We made that year the best voyage I ever made,” he was pleased to recall, “and Uncle Wiff was one of the best men I ever saw.” The comment of Mr. Rich is sufficient: “Lucky men are most always bold, brave men; and fortune favors the brave.”