bait a long time. When they were gone, we put on more of the same kind.
Mackerel will bite at any very small object, almost, that they can see,
and sometimes fishermen fasten a small silver coin to their hooks, which
will do duty as bait for days. They wish to catch as many fish as they
possibly can, while they are biting, for mackerel are very notional.
Sometimes they will bite so fast as to tire their captors, and, ten
minutes after, not one can be felt or seen. Usually, they can be caught
best in the morning and toward evening. I suppose they have but two
meals a day, breakfast and supper, going without their dinner. In this
respect, they resemble trout and many other kinds of fish.

They are caught in great numbers off the coast of Maine and
Massachusetts in the months of August and September. Hundreds of
schooners, large and small, and thousands of men and boys are employed
in the business. Standing upon the shore, near Portland, and looking out
upon the Atlantic, on a bright summer's day, you can sometimes see more
white, glistening sails of "mackerel-catchers" than you can count. At
the wharves of every little village on the sea-shore, or on a river near
the shore, boats and fishermen abound. Of late years, immense nets or
"seines" have been used, and often, by means of them, enormous
quantities of fish have been secured in one haul. The season is short,
but most of the fishermen, before the mackerel come and after they go,
engage in fishing for cod and hake, which are plentiful also.
Mackerel-catching has its joys, but it also has its sorrows and
uncertainties. One vessel may have excellent luck while another may be
very unfortunate. In short, those engaged in the pursuit of mackerel
have to content themselves with "fishermen's luck."

While we were busily fishing, George called my attention to a dark fin,
projecting a few inches above the water, and gradually approaching the