chewing and spitting out bullock’s brains into the water for ground-bait is called blowing of brains. salter’s angler’s guide.

right and wrong.

a sketch at sea.

the rights of man,—whether abstract or real, divine or vulgar, vested or contested, civil or uncivil, common or uncommon—have been so fully and so frequently discussed, that one would suppose there was nothing new to be felt or expressed on the subject. i was agreeably surprised, therefore, during a late passage from ireland, to hear the rights of an individual asserted in so very novel a manner as to seem worthy of record. the injured party was an involuntary fellow-passenger; and the first glance at him as he leisurely ascended the cabin stairs, bespoke

[pg 432]

him an original. his face, figure, dress, gait, ad gestures, were all more or less eccentric; yet, without any apparent affectation of singularity. his manner was perfectly earnest and business-like, though quaint. on reaching the deck, his first movement was towards the gangway, but a moment sufficed to acquaint him with the state of the case. the letter-bags having been detained an hour beyond the usual time of departure, the steam had been put on at a gallop, and her majesty’s mail packet the guebre had already accomplished some hundred fathoms of her course. this untoward event, however, seemed rather to surprise than annoy our original, who quietly stepped up to the captain, with the air of demanding what was merely a matter of course:

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“hollo, skipper! off she goes, eh? but you must turn about, my boy, and let me get out.”

“he’s a-going to take a tower.”

“let you get out!” echoed the skipper, and again repeating it, with what the musicians call a staccato—“let—you—get—out!”

“exactly so. i’m going ashore.”

“i’m rather afraid you are not, sir,” said the skipper, looking decidedly serious, “unless you allude to the other side!”