mrade and me, our
little songs between the hauls, and a score of other things cause me to
look back upon this night (and many others) with the thought, "Shall I
ever know such happiness again?"

Many persons, yes, most persons, must have recollections of past pure
delights that steal across their memories of things which happened long
years ago, and cause them to ask themselves the same question, "Shall I
ever know such happiness again?"

Why not? It always seems to strike me that when we are supremely happy,
we do not realise it at the time; but when the happy time has fled, and
has become a memory, we long for its return in vain. We long in vain
for that _particular_ pleasure, but there are present joys for us to
which at the time we do not give heed enough, or instead of _bemoaning
the past_ (which has flown) we should live and enjoy the _tangible
present_.

From moralising to fishing is a long jump, but we must take the leap and
attend to our net again.

After two or three hauls we had almost enough fish, but Alec said, "One
more for luck," and he being Skipper afloat, I Commandant ashore, like a
good A.B., I obeyed. We had caught several fair soles, but our last haul
brought us up two of the largest it has been my lot to capture.

"They are two, but not a pair," remarked Alec.

Neither were they, for when they were measured one was nineteen and a
half inches long, and the other exactly twenty-three inches. We
christened them Adam and Eve, and like a couple of cannibals declared
our intention of eating them for our supper when we got ashore.

As we sailed slowly in against the tide, the question arose who should
devour Adam and who Eve; so we agreed to guess the length of the trawl
beam between the irons for choice of fish.

I guessed first: "Ten feet."

"There," said Monday, "you have nearly taken my guess out of my mouth,
for I was going to say three metres, and that makes it about, let me
see, nine feet ten inches."

"How much is a metre?" I asked eagerly.

"Why about thirty-nine inches and a quarter of your measure," was his
ready reply.

"Then," I rejoined, bubbling over with excitement, "I've discovered the
measurements in the document. Why Old Barbe Rouge was a Frenchman, and
of course used French measure,--the metre! Hurrah!" and I made the rocks
echo with my excited hurrahs and loud laughter.

Adam and Eve were duly cooked, but they were not half eaten, for either
they were too large or our