"Poo, confound him, he can't be hungry," quoth Mr Weevil the purser, as he hauled in the line, hand over hand, until the bait was close under foot; when, just as it was rising out of the water, the shark, finding that it must be either salt junk or no fare, made a sudden grab at the bait, gorged it--dashed off with it, and, alack-a-daisy, _with the purser also_. Dreaming no harm, he had for a moment taken a turn of the line round his left arm as he hauled in, which, by the sudden jerk, _ran_; and if Lennox and old Drainings had not caught him by the heels, he would have been fairly overboard. The fun now grew fast and furious, for there was the hideous fish, walloping and floundering, and surging about, within a fathom of the purser, who was hanging over the stern, like a side of beef laid in, at sailing, for sea stock; his head dip-dipping into the water every now and then, as the vessel rose and fell, while he struggled, and spluttered, and twisted, in a vain attempt to get his arm loose; the shark all the time back, backing like a restive horse, and dragging and jerking about until I thought the purser's fin would absolutely have been torn from his shoulder. All this time the crew were like to explode with laughter, while poor Weevil roared lustily,--"Haul me in, for Heaven's sake, my good men, or he will swallow me--haul"----Here his head would sink into the water, and the sentence end in a great coughing and spluttering, until, just as he was on the point of being suffocated, out his nob would be dragged again by the pitching of the vessel, so as to enable him to renew his shouts for succour. At length the shark, being a good deal exhausted, was brought close under the stern, when I sent two bullets, from my double-barrelled Manton, through his head, right between his eyes. "Ah," quoth old Drainings the cook, "that has settled him, or the devil is in it; so lend a hand, Lennox,"--(the marine had hold of one of the purser's legs, and the _artiste!_ the other)--"so lend a hand, Lennox, and, during the lull, let us bouse in Mr Weevil. Ho, yo, yo, yo, oh!" The wounded shark had borne the loss of his brains with great composure, but the instant he felt the renewed drag at the pork in his maw, as if he had been only stunned, he started off at a tangent as strong as ever; and before you could say Jack Robinson, the pursuer's starboard leg was whipped out of Jack Lennox's clutches; but the one to port being in old Drainings' iron claws, was held like grim death, for he was a great ally of Weevil's. "Don't for Heaven's sake, let me go, Mr Drainings," roared Weevil, as if cookey had been his last shroud, "don't,"--splutter, splutter--"oh,"--cough, cough. The little vessel at this moment sended heavily, giving a strange sort of swinging lurch or wallop, as if shaking her sides with laughter, and again dipped his head a foot under water.