nd poverty, extravagance and starvation, linked
inseparably together.

It was midwinter. On the bank of the river stood the purveyor of the
convent, accompanied by the lady abbess herself and a great number of
the nuns. They waited to watch the first haul made by the fishermen on
the New Year's morning, according to the custom which had prevailed in
the convent for centuries. It was not usual for the river to be open
at that time, but this year there was not a piece of ice on its
surface. The fishermen put out in their boats, and cast their nets
into the current; then, making the circuit of the spot, they returned
to the bank and commenced to haul them in. Little difficulty was at
first experienced by them in this operation. For several years
preceding the supply of fish had scarcely sufficed to defray the
expense of catching. It would seem, however, as if fortune were
inclined to smile on the sisterhood once more. The nets had not been
more than half drawn in when the fishermen began to perceive that they
contained something heavier than usual. The lady abbess and the nuns
were made acquainted with the circumstance, and they watched, in eager
expectancy, the landing of the fish. The nets were at length with much
trouble hauled on shore.

"Hilloa!" said the principal fisherman, an aged man, to the purveyor
of the convent, "hast thou ever seen such monsters before? My soul!
but this will glad the hearts of the whole convent, and make many poor
folk happy, an it be but the harbinger of a return to the old times."

While he spoke two immense sturgeon were landed. The abbess and her
train approached the landing-place, and admired the strength and
superior size of the fish.

"It would be but folly to set one of them free," she partially
soliloquised and partially spoke to the purveyor. "The convent has
not had such a treat for years past, and we absolutely require some
change. I'll warrant me they will eat delightfully."

The purveyor, a wily Jewish-looking fellow, who passed for an Italian,
at once assented to the observations of his mistress, and added a few
remarks of his own in support of them. Not so, however, the old
fisherman, who overheard the conversation, having approached the
abbess with the purveyor to learn her will and pleasure as to the
disposal of the fish.

"Nay, nay, master," he interposed, in his rough way, "not so fast, not
so fast. My father fished on this river for full fifty years, and my
fathe