Clovelly is the proud possessor, not merely of the steepest High Street in the world, but also of a "poet-artist" (so he describes himself), who is also (I again quote his own description) a "professional qualified photographer." Here is an extract from his enthusiastic poem entitled "A Peep from the Hobby Drive, Clovelly."
How charming is the old High Street,
Pitched with pebbles, rough—how steep;
There donkeys stand with coal and sand,
And women with their brush in hand.
Out boldly stands the grand old pier,
To check the waves that may come near;
And fishermen upon it stand,
Yarning with their pipes in hand.
Among such grandeur, artist, rest—
To imitate it at thy best;
For should some beauty fall to ground,
Thy picture has it, safe and sound.
From the Fishing Gazette I take the following story:—
Last spring, while a party of tourists were fishing up North, a well-known lawyer lost his gold watch from the boat in which he was sitting. Last week he made another visit to the lakes, and during the first day's sport caught an 8lb. trout. His astonishment can be imagined when he found the watch lodged in the throat of the trout. The watch was running, and the time correct. It being a "stem winder," the supposition is that, in masticating its food, the fish wound up the watch daily.
I happen to know that this story is incomplete, and I venture to add some missing details. The fish—a particularly thoughtful animal—finding that there was no chain to the watch, resolved to supply this defect, and, by a well-known process in metallurgy, converted some of its scales into a complete Albert, which it connected with the watch. The watch used to lose two minutes a week. With admirable patience the fish regulated it, and restored it to its owner in perfectly accurate trim. When it was originally lost the watch was a simple one. It has now become a repeater, with a special dial indicating the days of the week, the month, and the year A.D. By a trick, learnt from a fried whiting in early life this trout contrived every day to insert its tail into its mouth, and, by using it as a brush, to keep the watch clean, and free from rust. When the fish had been boiled and eaten, the watch stopped, out of sympathy, and has not gone since.