"Four — and baggage. Your boat is large enough — used to be when I went in her."
"Used to be when I went in her," said the old skipper; "but there it is! She won't hold nobody now."
"What's the matter?"
"She took too many passengers the other day, — that is, she took one too many. Shipped a cargo of fresh meat, sir, and it wa'n't stowed in right, and the 'Bessie Bell' broke her heart about it. Like to ha' gone to the bottom."
"What do you mean?"
"Why, I was comin' home from Diver's Rock the other day — just a week ago last Saturday — I had been round there up the shore after fish; — you know the rock where the horse mackerel comes? — me and little Archie; lucky enough we had no more along. By the by, I hope you'll go fishing, Winthrop — the mackerel's fine this year. How long you're goin' to stay?"
"Only a day or two, sir."
"Ah! — Well — we were comin' home with a good mess o' fine fish, and when we were just about in the middle of the river, comin' over, — the fish had been jumping all along the afternoon, shewing their heads and tails more than common; and I'd been sayin' to Archie it was a sign o' rain — 'tis, you know, — and just as we were in the deepest of the river, about half way over, one of 'em came up and put himself aboard of us."
"A sturgeon?"
"Just that, sir; as sound a fellow as ever you saw in your life — just the length of one of my little oars — longer than I be — eight feet wanting one inch, he measured, for the blade of that oar has been broken off a bit — several inches, — and what do you think he weighed? — Two hundred and forty pound."