Fig. 2.
"I also send for yourself an imitation gold-fish. It appears that there is something in the color or taste of the gold-fish which renders it irresistible to other fish as a bait. They are quite mad after it. It appears to be intended to be sunk with a weight, and pulled about under water, or else to float on the top; but they say it is taken in anyway."
This wonderful bait was made of wood, and painted yellow, or covered with gilt paper, and presented an appearance like the annexed engraving.
But under this innocent exterior lurked Tom Hood's joke. The fish was made of two pieces of wood, like Fig. 2, glued or gummed together, only one of which was attached to the line, and on this piece was burned, with a red-hot knitting-needle, the words, "O, you April fool!" Of course, after the sportsman had dragged this about in the water for some time, the glue melted, the loose half of the bait floated away, and when he hauled in his line to see how things were getting along, he discovered the inscription, and at the same time that he had been made a fool of, whether it happened to be April or not.
THE CLOCK BEWITCHED.
I was once at one of those little social gatherings which the Scotch call a "cooky-shine," and the English a "tea-fight," where two young ladies appeared escorted by a rustic beau (for be it known this was in the country), who, like many beaux from both city and country, had a very well-developed opinion of his own shrewdness and sagacity, of which opinion he gave several rather obtrusive illustrations during the course of the evening. This peculiarity, added to the fact that, quite early in the festivities, he displayed an anxiety to hurry the young ladies home in the midst of their enjoyment, made him anything but popular. The fact was that the young man, having exhausted his limited stock of conversation, grew bored and sleepy, and wanted to go home himself. Not being able to accomplish this, he seated himself in an obscure corner of the room, where he soon dropped off into a doze. Now among the company was a little imp of a boy, a son of the hostess, who seemed to feel himself called upon to amuse the rest of the guests. He whispered a few words in his sister's ear, and then left the room. In about fifteen minutes the drowsy beau woke up with a start, and asked what o'clock it was.
"I really don't know," responded one of the ladies. "What time was it when you went to sleep?"
"Sleep—sleep! I haven't been to sleep—'wake all the time."
"Indeed you have," chorussed the party; "nearly two hours, and saying all sorts of things."
