Most of the fishing in the three-mile strip of water is done by single fishermen who dwell along the coast. Each man has his own dory and is out on the sea fishing every day when the weather permits. Very likely his home is simply a shanty with a little garden near it by the borders of a cove that serves as a harbor for his boat. Early in the morning, perhaps before dawn, he goes out in his boat, with a sail hoisted in the prow, if there is wind, or pulling at the oars if no breeze is stirring. He examines his lobster pots, nets, and trawls, takes whatever he has caught into the dory, and does such rebaiting as is necessary. Most of the fish caught by these men are sold fresh in the towns on or near the coast.

Gloucester has become the most important fishing port in New England. It has a deep and spacious harbor, and is conveniently near that great centre of trade and population, Boston. The fishermen have always been notably bold, vigorous, and intelligent, ready to face danger and the severest strain of toil. Through long and hard experience they become skilful seamen and shipmasters, and in our wars, when service on the sea was called for, these fishermen have proved of great value to their country.

The demand for fishermen to go on cruises from Gloucester far exceeds the local supply, and many of them are now from Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and even from the Azores across the sea.

Fishing on the Banks is largely carried on by fast

sailing well-equipped schooners. They carry fresh vegetables, frozen meats, and canned goods to eat, and the crew has the best of fare. It requires three or four months to lay in a cargo of cod. The decision as to just where a schooner shall fish depends a great deal on the depth of the water and the character of the bottom. By constant sounding with the lead line an expert

of the sea bottom may be secured. The story is told of a certain old Nantucket skipper who could invariably tell just where his vessel was by examining the soil his lead brought up. In order to perplex him his crew once put some garden loam from the home island in the cup of the lead, made a pretence of sounding, and then asked the skipper to name the position of the schooner. The old fisherman tasted the dirt on the lead - his favorite method of deter

mining its individuality and suddenly exclaimed, "Nantucket's sunk, and here we are right over Ma'am Hackett's garden!"

As soon as a captain finds satisfactory fishing ground he drops anchor. If the fish are very numerous and hungry, the men may fish with hook and line from the deck of the schooner; but usually the dories are hoisted overboard, and, with two men in each, go out to set the trawls. Only the captain and cook remain on the vessel. A trawl is a line about a mile long from which a thousand hooks hang on shorter lines two or three feet in length. One man pulls at the oars, and the other baits the hooks and drops them over. At each end of the trawl is a big float, and these floats are marked with the vessel's name. They are anchored, and the line is lowered to the bottom. In fine weather the dories go out early every day to take up the trawls. A boat starts at one end of a trawl, and as fast as the men remove the fish from the hooks and put on fresh bait they throw the line overboard. This work has to be done with bare hands even in freezing weather.

When the boats return they are swung to the deck, and the fish are thrown into a bin. The cleaning and packing them in the hold are done after supper.

Fishing on the Banks continues all the year round. The region is chilly and foggy, and in winter its dreariness and danger are increased by frequent gales and snowstorms. If sky or sea show any hint of threatening weather while a schooner's crew is out, a recall signal is

hoisted. But sometimes the gale rises so suddenly that one or more of the dories to leeward fail to get back. The strong tides of the Banks and the shoal waters help to pile up the great combing seas, and not infrequently a dory with two dead bodies in it, or empty and perhaps tossed bottom up by the waves, is all that tells the story of a lost boat and its crew. When the schooner on which the lost men sailed returns to port, it enters the harbor with its flag at half-mast.

At times a large number of fishing vessels may anchor near each other on a favorable fishing ground. Perhaps a storm arises, and an anchor gives way so that a schooner drives before the gale against another, wrecking both of them. Or one of the swift steamships that cross the Banks on a voyage between America and Europe suddenly looms up out of a fog and crushes a schooner that happens to lie in its path.

As soon as the fish which a vessel has brought to port are unloaded the captain gets a check for them. A fourth of one per cent goes to the Widows' and Orphans' Fund, and three quarters of the balance is for the fishermen after expenses have been deducted. Captain and all share exactly alike in the division except the cook, who is given ten dollars extra because the success of the voyage depends more on him than on any one else. If he is not kept good-natured he will waste food and fresh water, and compel an early return to port.

The rest of the money is turned over to the owners of the vessel. They, however, give the captain from three to ten per cent of it.

A vessel usually lies in port only two or three days and then starts on another cruise. Some firms own dozens of vessels, but it is not the owners who go forth on them after fish. They equip the schooners with the necessary apparatus, and send them out one by one in charge of a captain who has selected a crew. It is for the interest of every man concerned to work efficiently to make a profitable voyage, and this fishing industry is a most satisfactory instance of coöperation

"Old Mother Ann," on Eastern Point, Cape Ann between labor and capital. There are no strikes, and, in spite of hardship and danger, the profits and the