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Updated: May 5, 2025
Thus I slipped through to my goal, thereby justifying the nickname of L'Anguille the Eel which some of my young French friends had bestowed on me. A day or two previously my father had returned from England, and I found him with my stepmother. He became very much interested in my story, and talked of going to Laval himself.
"He's in there with his mother." This was evident enough, for the sound of their voices was audible, Mrs. Barraclough's high pitched tones crying out: "Don't sit on the bed, dear, it creases the quilt." "Better look out," Bolt warned. "He's as slippery as an eel." "Trust me, we're just waiting to get rid of the old woman, and then "
"All right," I said, "I'll take your word for it. But will the lake be there when we get back, because I've got some eel lines out?" He said, "Oh, yes, it won't move till May first." "Thank goodness for that," I told him. I guess maybe you'd better look at the map now, hey? It isn't much of a map, but you should worry.
To guard against these inconveniences the prudent captain takes every precaution in his power; he makes the strongest contracts with his crew, and thereby binds them so firmly, that none but the greatest or least of men can break through them with impunity; but for one of these two reasons, which I will not determine, the sailor, like his brother fish the eel, is too slippery to be held, and plunges into his element with perfect impunity.
The old male polecat seemed to, anyway, for just as the first flicker of dawn was paling the eastern sky he went off down to the mist-hidden dike, and, in no more than ten short minutes, returned with an eel, protesting violently in that horrible way eels have, which he promptly proceeded to decapitate and eat.
"I must speak with him in privacy," said the criminal, despair seeming to croak in his accent as he uttered the words. "That may hardly consist with our office, my merry Leap the ladder," said Petit Andre, "we know you for a slippery eel of old." "I am tied with your horse girths, hand and foot," said the criminal.
I heard the mules waiting for him outside, and it was the "cap and eel" boy, and he said, "How are you, young feller? Heerd you was sick!" "Who told you?" I said. "The Mushrat," he said. "He came a-whooping and a-running up the canal one night, an' hollered to me in passing that he wasn't going to bring no pitcher-books back to no diphtheria sore-throaters.
The night came; the little Touranian, exalted with pride caparisoned with desire, and spurred by his "alacks" and "alases" which nearly choked him, glided like an eel into the domicile of the veritable Queen of the Council for before her bowed humbly all the authority, science, and wisdom of Christianity.
The day's lessons are over now, and I go back to my bait-catching with a new admiration for these winged members of the brotherhood. Perhaps there is also a bit of envy or regret in my meditation as I tie on a new hook to replace the one that an uneasy eel is trying to rid himself of, down in the mud. If I had only had some one to teach me like that, I should certainly now be a better fisherman.
Two years ago, in a lecture before the Massachusetts Historical Society, I mentioned this recipe of Sir Kenelm Digby for fever and ague: Pare the patient's nails; put the parings in a little bag, and hang the bag round the neck of a live eel, and place him in a tub of water. The eel will die, and the patient will recover.
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