HOW TO SELL FISH.
What I had seen that night upset me more than I like to dwell upon. But
with all my fish on hand, I was forced to make the best of it. For a
down-hearted man will turn meat, as we say, and much more, fish, to a
farthing's-worth. And though my heart was sore and heavy for my ancient
sweetheart Moxy, and for little Bardie in the thick of such disasters,
that could be no excuse to me for wasting good fish--or at least pretty
good--and losing thoroughly good money.
Here were the mullet, with less of shine than I always recommended and
honestly wish them to possess; here were the prawns, with a look of
paleness and almost of languishing, such as they are bound to avoid
until money paid and counted; and most of all, here were lawful bass, of
very great size and substance, inclined to do themselves more justice in
the scales than on the dish.
I saw that this would never answer to my present high repute. Concerning
questions afterwards, and people being hard upon me, out of thoughtless
ignorance, that was none of my affair. The whole of that would go, of
course, upon the weather and sudden changes, such as never were known
before. And if good religious people would not so be satisfied with the
will of Providence to have their fish as fish are made, against them I
had another reason, which never fails to satisfy.
The "burning tide," as they called it (through which poor Bardie first
appeared), had been heard of far inland, and with one consent pronounced
to be the result of the devil improperly flipping his tail while
bathing. Although the weather had been so hot, this rumour was beyond my
belief; nevertheless I saw my way, if any old customer should happen,
when it came to his dinner-time, to be at all discontented (which no man
with a fine appetite and a wholesome nose should indulge in)--I saw my
way to sell him more, upon the following basket-day, by saying what good
people said, and how much I myself had seen of it.
With these reflections I roused my spirits, and resolved to let no good
fish be lost, though it took all the week to sell them. For, in spite of
the laws laid down in the books (for young married women, and so
forth), there is scarcely any other thing upon which both men and women
may be led astray so pleasantly as why to buy fish, and when to buy
fish, and what fish to buy.
Therefore I started in good spirits on the Monday morning, carrying with
me news enough to sell three times the weight I bore, although it was
breaking my back almost. Good fish it was, and deserved all the praise
that ever I could bestow on it, for keeping so well in such shocking
weather; and so I sprinkled a little salt in some of the delicate
places, just to store the flavour there; for cooks are so forgetful, and
always put the blame on me when they fail of producing a fine fresh
smell.
Also knowing, to my sorrow, how suspicious people are, and narrow-minded
to a degree none would give them credit for, I was forced to do a thing
which always makes me to myself seem almost uncharitable.
But I felt that I could trust nobody to have proper faith in me,
especially when they might behold the eyes of the fishes retire a
little, as they are very apt to do when too many cooks have looked at
them. And knowing how strong the prejudice of the public is in this
respect, I felt myself bound to gratify it, though at some cost of time
and trouble. This method I do not mind describing (as I am now pretty
clear of the trade) for the good of my brother fishermen.
When the eyes of a fish begin to fail him through long retirement from
the water, you may strengthen his mode of regarding the world (and
therefore the world's regard for him) by a delicate piece of handling.
Keep a ray-fish always ready--it does not matter how stale he is--and on
the same day on which you are going to sell your bass, or mullet, or
cod, or whatever it may be, pull a few sharp spines, as clear as you
can, out of this good ray. Then open the mouth of your languid fish and
embolden the aspect of either eye by fetching it up from despondency
with a skewer of proper length extended from one ball to the other. It
is almost sure to drop out in the cooking; and even if it fails to do
so, none will be the wiser, but take it for a provision of nature--as
indeed it ought to be.
Now, if anybody is rude enough to gainsay your fish in the market, you
have the evidence of the eyes and hands against that of the nose alone.
"Why, bless me, madam," I used to say, "a lady like you, that
understands fish a great deal better than I do! His eyes are coming out
of his head, ma'am, to hear you say such things of him. Afloat he was at
four this morning, and his eyes will speak to it." And so he was, well
afloat in my tub, before I began to prepare him for a last appeal to the
public. Only they must not float too long, or the scales will not be
stiff enough.
Being up to a few of these things, and feeling very keenly how hard the
public always tries to get upper hand of me, and would beat me down to
half nothing a pound (if allowed altogether its own way), I fought very
bravely the whole of that Monday to turn a few honest shillings. "Good
old Davy, fine old Davy, brave old Davy!" they said I was every time I
abated a halfpenny; and I called them generous gentlemen and
Christian-minded ladies every time they wanted to smell my fish, which
is not right before payment. What right has any man to disparage the
property of another? When you have bought him, he is your own, and you
have the title to canvas him; but when he is put in the scales, remember
"nothing but good of the dead," if you remember anything.
As I sate by the cross roads in Bridgend on the bottom of a bucket, and
with a four-legged dressing-table (hired for twopence) in front of me,
who should come up but the well-known Brother Hezekiah? Truly tired I
was getting, after plodding through Merthyr Mawr, Ogmore, and Ewenny,
Llaleston, and Newcastle, and driven at last to the town of Bridgend.
For some of my fish had a gamesome odour, when first I set off in the
morning; and although the rain had cooled down the air, it was now
become an unwise thing to recommend what still remained to any man of
unchristian spirit, or possessing the ear of the magistrates.
Now perhaps I should not say this thing, and many may think me inclined
to vaunt, and call me an old coxcomb; but if any man could sell stinking
fish in the times of which I am writing--and then it was ten times
harder than now, because women looked after marketing--that man I verily
believe was this old Davy Llewellyn; and right he has to be proud of it.
But what were left on my hands that evening were beginning to get so
strong, that I feared they must go over Bridgend bridge into the river
Ogmore.
The big coach with the London letters, which came then almost twice
a-week, was just gone on, after stopping three hours to rest the horses
and feed the people; and I had done some business with them, for London
folk for the most part have a kind and pleasing ignorance. They paid me
well, and I served them well with fish of a fine high flavour; but now I
had some which I would not offer to such kind-hearted gentry.
Hezekiah wanted fish. I saw it by his nostrils, and I knew it for
certain when he pretended not to see me or my standing. He went a good
bit round the corner, as if to deal with the ironmonger. But for all
that, I knew as well as if I could hear his wife beginning to rake the
fire, that fish for supper was the business which had brought him across
the bridge. Therefore I refused an offer which I would have jumped at
before seeing Hezekiah, of twopence a-pound for the residue from an old
woman who sold pickles; and I made up my mind to keep up the price,
knowing the man to have ten in family, and all blessed with good
appetites.
"What, Davy! Brother Davy!" he cried, being compelled to begin, because
I took care not to look at him. "Has it been so ordered that I behold
good brother Davy with fish upon a Monday?" His object in this was plain
enough--to beat down my goods by terror of an information for
Sabbath-labour.
"The Lord has been merciful to me," I answered, patting my best fish on
his shoulder; "not only in sending them straight to my net, at nine
o'clock this morning; but also, brother Hezekiah, in the hunger all
people have for them. I would that I could have kept thee a taste; not
soon wouldst thou forget it. Sweeter fish and finer fish never came out
of Newton Bay"--this I said because Newton Bay is famous for high
quality. "But, brother Hezekiah, thou art come too late." And I began to
pack up very hastily.
"What!" cried Hezekiah, with a keen and hungrily grievous voice; "all
those fish bespoken, Davy?"
"Every one of them bespoken, brother; by a man who knows a right down
good bass, better almost than I do. Griffy, the 'Cat and Snuffers.'"
Now, Griffith, who kept the "Cat and Snuffers," was a very jovial man,
and a bitter enemy to Hezekiah Perkins; and I knew that the latter would
gladly offer a penny a-pound upon Griffy's back, to spoil him of his
supper, and to make him offend his customers.
"Stop, brother Davy," cried Hezekiah, stretching out his broad fat
hands, as I began to pack my fish, with the freshest smellers uppermost;
"Davy dear, this is not right, nor like our ancient friendship. A rogue
like Griffy to cheat you so! What had he beaten you down to, Davy?"
"Beaten me down!" I said, all in a hurry; "is it likely I would be
beaten down, with their eyes coming out of their heads like that?"
"Now, dear brother Dyo, do have patience! What was he going to give you
a-pound?"
"Fourpence a-pound, and ten pound of them. Three-and-fourpence for a lot
like that! Ah, the times are bad indeed!"
"Dear brother Dyo, fourpence-halfpenny! Three-and-nine down, for the lot
as it stands."
"Hezekiah, for what do you take me? Cut a farthing in four, when you get
it. Do I look a likely man to be a rogue for fivepence?"
"No, no, Davy; don't be angry with me. Say as much as tenpence.
Four-and-twopence, ready money; and no Irish coinage."
"Brother Hezekiah," said I, "a bargain struck is a bargain kept. Rob a
man of his supper for tenpence!"
"Oh, Dyo, Dyo! you never would think of that man's supper, with my wife
longing for fish so! Such a family as we have, and the weakness in
Hepzibah's back! Five shillings for the five, Davy."
"There, there; take them along," I cried at last, with a groan from my
chest: "you are bound to be the ruin of me. But what can I do with a
delicate lady? Brother, surely you have been a little too hard upon me.
Whatever shall I find to say to a man who never beats me down?"
"Tell that worldly 'Cat and Snuffers' that your fish were much too
good--why, Davy, they seem to smell a little!"
"And small use they would be, Hezekiah, either for taste or for
nourishment, unless they had the sea-smell now. Brother, all your money
back, and the fish to poor Griffy, if you know not the smell of salt
water yet."
"Now, don't you be so hot, old Davy. The fish are good enough, no doubt;
and it may be from the skewer-wood; but they have a sort, not to say a
smell, but a manner of reminding one----"
"Of the savoury stuff they feed on," said I; "and the thorough good use
they make of it. A fish must eat, and so must we, and little blame to
both of us."
With that he bade me "good-night," and went with alacrity towards his
supper, scornfully sneering as he passed the door of the "Cat and
Snuffers." But though it was a fine thing for me, and an especial
Providence, to finish off my stock so well, at a time when I would have
taken gladly a shilling for the lot of it, yet I felt that circumstances
were against my lingering. Even if Hezekiah, unable to enter into the
vein of my fish, should find himself too fat to hurry down the steep
hill after me, still there were many other people, fit for supper, and
fresh for it, from the sudden coolness, whom it was my duty now to
preserve from mischief; by leaving proper interval for consideration,
before I might happen to be in front of their dining room windows
another day.
Therefore, with a grateful sense of goodwill to all customers, I thought
it better to be off. There I had been, for several hours, ready to prove
anything, but never challenged by anybody; and my spirit had grown
accordingly. But I never yet have found it wise to overlie success. Win
it, and look at it, and be off, is the quickest way to get some more. So
I scarcely even called so much as a pint at the "Cat and Snuffers," to
have a laugh with Griffy; but set off for Newton, along the old road,
with a good smart heel, and a fine day's business, and a light heart
inside of me.
When I had passed Red-hill and Tythegston, and clearly was out upon
Newton Down, where the glow-worms are most soft and sweet, it came upon
me, in looking up from the glow-worms to the stars of heaven, to think
and balance how far I was right in cheating Hezekiah. It had been done
with the strictest justice, because his entire purpose was purely to
cheat me. Whereupon Providence had stepped in and seen that I was the
better man. I was not so ungrateful--let nobody suppose it--as to repine
at this result. So far from that, that I rattled my money and had a good
laugh, and went on again. But being used to watch the stars, as an old
sailor is bound to do, I thought that Orion ought to be up, and I could
not see Orion. This struck me as an unkindly thing, although, when I
thought of it next day, I found that Orion was quite right, and perhaps
the beer a little strong which had led me to look out for him; anyhow,
it threw me back to think of Hezekiah, and make the worst of him to
myself for having had the best of him.
Everybody may be sure that I never would have gone out of the way to
describe my traffic with that man unless there were good reason. Nay,
but I wanted to show you exactly the cast and the colour of man he was,
by setting forth his low attempt to get my fish for nothing.
There was no man, of course, in my native village, and very few in
Bridgend perhaps, to whom I would have sold those fish, unless they were
going to sell it again. But Hezekiah Perkins, a member and leading elder
of the "Nicodemus-Christians," was so hard a man to cheat--except by
stirring of his gall--and so keen a cheat himself; so proud, moreover,
of his wit and praying, and truly brotherly,--that to lead him astray
was the very first thing desired by a sound Churchman.
By trade and calling he had been--before he received his special
call--no more than a common blacksmith. Now a blacksmith is a most
useful man, full of news and full of jokes, and very often by no means
drunk; this, however, was not enough to satisfy Hezekiah. Having parts,
as he always told us--and sometimes we wished that he had no
whole--cultivated parts, moreover, and taken up by the gentry, nothing
of a lower order came up to his merits than to call himself as follows:
"Horologist, Gunsmith, Practical Turner, Working Goldsmith and Jeweller,
Maker of all Machinery, and Engineman to the King and Queen."
The first time he put this over his door, all the neighbours laughed at
him, knowing (in spite of the book he had got full of figures and shapes
and crossings, which he called "Three-gun-ometry") that his education
was scarcely up to the rule of three, without any guns. Nevertheless he
got on well, having sense enough to guide him when to talk large (in the
presence of people who love large talk, as beyond them), and when to
sing small, and hold his tongue, and nod at the proper distances, if
ever his business led him among gentry of any sense or science, such as
we sometimes hear of. Hence it was that he got the order to keep the
church-clock of Bridgend a-going by setting the hands on twice a-day,
and giving a push to the pendulum; and so long as the clock would only
go, nobody in the town cared a tick whether it kept right time or wrong.
And if people from the country durst say anything about it, it was
always enough to ask them what their own clocks had to say.
There were not then many stable-clocks, such as are growing upon us now,
so that every horse has his own dinner-bell; only for all those that
were, Hezekiah received, I daresay, from five to ten shillings a-month
apiece in order to keep them moving. But, bless my heart! he knew less
of a clock than I, old Davy Llewellyn, and once on a time I asked him,
when he talked too much of his "ometries"--as a sailor might do in his
simpleness--I asked him to take an "observation," as I had seen a good
deal of it. But all he did was to make a very profane and unpleasant
one. As for this man's outward looks, he was nothing at all particular,
but usually with dirt about him, and a sense of oiliness. Why he must
needs set up for a saint the father of evil alone may tell; but they
said that the clock that paid him best (being the worst in the
neighbourhood) belonged to a Nicodemus-Christian, with a great cuckoo
over it. Having never seen it, I cannot say; and the town is so full of
gossip that I throw myself down on my back and listen, being wholly
unable to vie with them in depth or in compass of story-telling, even
when fish are a week on my hands.