The industry of fishwives is proverbial, their chief maxim being, that “the woman that canna work for a man is no worth ane;” and accordingly they undertake the task of disposing of the merchandise, and acting as Chancellor of the Exchequer.[18] Their husbands have only to catch the fish, their labour being finished as soon as the boats touch the quay. The Newhaven fishwife’s mode of doing business is well known. She is always supposed to ask double or triple what she will take; and, on occasions of bargaining, she is sure, in allusion to the hazardous nature of the gudeman’s occupation, to tell her customers that “fish are no fish the day, they’re just men’s lives.” The style of higgling adopted when dealing with the fisher-folk, if attempted in other kinds of commerce, gives rise to the well-known Scottish reproach of “D’ye tak’ me for a fishwife?” The style of bargain-making carried on by the fishwives may be illustrated by the following little scene:— A servant girl having just beckoned to one of them is answered by the usual interrogatory, “What’s yer wull the day, my bonnie lass?” and the “mistress” being introduced, the following conversation takes place:— “Come awa, mem, an’ see what bonnie fish I hae the day.” “Have you any haddocks?” “Ay hae I, mem, an’ as bonnie fish as ever ye clappit yer twa een on.” “What’s the price of these four small ones?” “What’s yer wull, mem?” “I wish these small ones.” “What d’ye say, mem? sma’ haddies! they’s no sma’ fish, an they’re the bonniest I hae in a’ ma creel.” “Well, never mind, what do you ask for them?” “Weel, mem, it’s? been awfu’ wather o’ late, an’ the men canna get fish; ye’ll no grudge me twentypence for thae four?” “Twentypence!” “Ay, mem, what for no?” “They are too dear, I’ll give—” “What d’ye say, mem? ower dear! I wish ye kent it: but what’ll ye gie me for thae four?” “I’ll give you a sixpence.” “Ye’ll gie me a what?” “A sixpence.” “I daur say ye wull, ma bonny leddy, but ye’ll no get thae four fish for twa sixpences this day.” “I’ll not give more.” “Weel, mem, gude day” (making preparations to go); “I’ll tak’ eighteenpence an’ be dune wi’t.” “No; I’ll give you twopence each for them.” And so the chaffering goes on, till ultimately the fishwife will take tenpence for the lot, and this plan of asking double what will be taken, which is common with them all and sometimes succeeds with simple housewives, will be repeated from door to door, till the supply be exhausted. The mode of doing business with a fishwife is admirably illustrated in the _Antiquary_. When Monkbarns bargains for “the bannock-fluke” and “the cock-padle,” Maggie Mucklebackit asks four and sixpence, and ends, after a little negotiation and much finesse, in accepting half-a-crown and a dram; the latter commodity being worth siller just then, in consequence of the stoppage of the distilleries.