On entering the harbour of Dublin a few weeks ago, we were becalmed off the Hill of Howth, and to pass the tedious time until a breeze sprung up, we found some lines on board, and began to fish from the quarter-deck. We caught a number of grey gurnet; but our attention was particularly attracted by a pull of uncommon force on one of the lines. Having rendered assistance to the person who held it, we were all astonished to see rise out of the water a large fish, with apparently a double body, which, after floundering on the surface of the water, we pulled on deck. On examining this phenomenon for a short time, we were again surprized to see it separate into two parts; and then found that there were _two_ large fish taken up on the same hook, the head of one having been buried under the throat of the other, to which it had firmly attached itself. When separated by force, it wiggled about on the deck with extraordinary strength and agility, and again darted on its prey, to which [p073] it adhered so firmly, that it required very considerable exertion to detach it; for it suffered itself to be raised up by the tail, and shaken, still holding the other fish suspended from its jaws. When finally separated, it showed great ferocity, darting at every thing near it, and at last seizing the deck, which it held very fast, writhing with its tail and body as if in the act of tearing it to pieces. When detached, its teeth left a deep circular impression on the wood, the fibres of which were drawn into the cavity of its jaws, so as to be raised up in the form of a cone. I now directed, that it should be put into a bucket of sea water, in the hope of preserving it alive until we arrived in Dublin, but it died in a shorter time than could be expected, from the energy and activity it had displayed, long after the other fish was dead. We had handled it very roughly, and so perhaps had mortally hurt an animal otherwise very tenacious of life. [Illustration: untitled, Fish]