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Chapter 17

           "BecauseIdon’texpectanybodywouldbelievemeifIdid,"repliestheoldfellowcalmly,andwithoutevenatingeofbitternessinhistone,asherefillshispipe,andrequeststhelandlordtobringhimthreeofScotch,cold. 

           Thereisapauseafterthis,nobodyfeelingsufficientlysureofhimselftocontradicttheoldgentleman. Sohehastogoonbyhimselfwithoutanyencouragement. 

           "No,"hecontinuesthoughtfully;"Ishouldn’tbelieveitmyselfifanybodytoldittome,butit’safact,forallthat. Ihadbeensittingtherealltheafternoonandhadcaughtliterallynothingexceptafewdozendaceandascoreofjack; andIwasjustaboutgivingitupasabadjobwhenIsuddenlyfeltarathersmartpullattheline. Ithoughtitwasanotherlittleone,andIwenttojerkitup. Hangme,ifIcouldmovetherod! Ittookmehalf-an-hourhalf-an-hour,sir!tolandthatfish;andeverymomentIthoughtthelinewasgoingtosnap! Ireachedhimatlast,andwhatdoyouthinkitwas? Asturgeon!afortypoundsturgeon!takenonaline,sir! Yes,youmaywelllooksurprisedI’llhaveanotherthreeofScotch,landlord,please." 

           Andthenhegoesontotelloftheastonishmentofeverybodywhosawit;andwhathiswifesaid,whenhegothome,andofwhatJoeBugglesthoughtaboutit. 

           Iaskedthelandlordofaninnuptheriveronce,ifitdidnotinjurehim,sometimes,listeningtothetalesthatthefishermenabouttheretoldhim;andhesaid: 

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