he visit,
without feeling a kindred sympathy; without having a vague thought of
"sometime I may be only too glad to escape from the world and accept this
humble happiness instead;" without a dreamy idea of "Perhaps _this_, after
all, is the real Arcadia!"

While I was indulging in these reflections, it was amusing to see Picton
at work! The heads and entrails of the cod-fish, thrown from the "flakes"
into the water, attract thousands of the baser tribes, such as sculpins,
flounders, and toad-fish, who feed themselves fat upon the offals, and
enjoy a peaceful life under the clear waters of the harbor. As the
dingledekooch floated silently over them, they lay perfectly quiet and
unsuspicious of danger, although within a few feet of the fatal fish-pugh,
and in an element almost as transparent as air. Lobster, during the storm,
had gone off to other grounds; but here were great flat flounders and
sculpin, within reach of the indefatigable Picton. Down went the fish-pugh
and up came the game! The bottom of the skiff was soon covered with the
spearings of the traveller. Great flounders, those sub-marine buckwheat
cakes; sculpins, bloated with rage and wind, like patriots out of office;
toad-fish, savage and vindictive as Irishmen in a riot. Down went the
fish-pugh! It was rare sport, and no person could have enjoyed it more
than Picton--except perhaps some of the veteran fishermen of Louisburgh,
who were gathered on the beach watching the doings in the dingledekooch.

CHAPTER VI.

A most acceptable Invitation--- An Evening in the Hutch--Old Songs--Picton
in High Feather--Wolfe and Montcalm--Reminiscences of the Siege--Anecdotes
of Wolfe--A Touch of Rhetoric and its Consequences.

Quite a little crowd of fishermen gathered around us, as the dingledekooch
ran bows on the beach, and Picton, warm with exercise and excitement,
leaped ashore, flourishing his piscatorial javelin with an air of triumph,
which oddly contrasted with the faces of the Louisburghers, who looked at
him and at his game, with countenances of great gravity--either real or
assumed. Presently, another boat ran bows on the beach beside our own, and
from this jumped Bruce, our jolly first mate, who had come ashore to spend
a few hours with an old friend, at one of the hutches. To this we were
hospitably invited also, and were right glad to uncase our limbs of stiff
oil-skin and doff our sou'-westers, and sit down before the cheery fire,
piled up with s