ence by saying that "most fish develop a shovel-nose when they are working up-stream." If this were the case, an eel would have a shovel-nose in the spring and a sharp nose in the autumn! Such a capability of altering his features would be certainly open to envy; but, unfortunately for this theory, the structure of the two fish is materially different, and the single fact that the shovel or broad-nosed eel has one hundred and fifteen vertebræ, while his sharp-nosed relative only possesses one hundred and thirteen is sufficient to prove the fallacy of the idea that the two fish are identical.
Of fresh-water eels as apart from their mighty cousin the conger, there are three distinct kinds—the sharp-nosed eel, the broad-nosed or frog-mouthed eel, and the snig. Of these three, the sharp-nosed eel is both the largest fish and the best eating, though some prefer the snig-eel as having a superior flavor. The snig, however, in spite of its excellence, has not the same value as the sharp-nosed eel; for it seldom, if ever, attains more than half a pound in weight. The sharp-nosed eel, on the contrary, attains an enormous size. One on record that was taken in the Medway, not far from Rochester, weighed thirty-four pounds, measured six feet in length, and had a girth of twenty-five inches. Another eel, taken in Kent, weighed forty pounds and measured five feet nine inches. Yarrell speaks of having seen at Cambridge the preserved skins of two which had weighed together fifty pounds; the heaviest twenty-seven pounds, the other twenty-three pounds. But these instances, though not to be regarded as apocryphal, are still very exceptional; and a very fair average weight for sharp-nosed eels is six pounds. Eels of even ten pounds weight are not common, and Mr. Frank Buckland speaks of one of that size as being the largest he had ever seen. From time immemorial eels have always been much esteemed by epicures, more perhaps in ancient days than they are now. Aristotle and Aristophanes both mention eels in terms of high praise; indeed, the former may be considered to have known more about eels than the contemporary we have already referred to, for he recognized at least two distinct species of eels. By the Egyptians eels were regarded with great abhorrence, as the embodiment of an evil demon; but other nations did not share the prejudice, for the Bœotians, who were celebrated for their eels, used them as sacred offerings. Misson, in his "Travels," tells of a vow made by the inhabitants of Terracina, a seaport of Italy, when besieged by the Turks. They vowed to offer twenty thousand eels a year to St. Benedict if he would deliver them from their peril. Whether a fond memory of stewed eels touched the saint we do not know, but the siege was raised, and the Benedictine monks got their eels every year from the virtuous and grateful inhabitants. The Venerable Bede mentions the eel-fisheries of Britain in his "History of the Anglo-Saxon Church," and an instance is quoted of the magnificence of the famous Archbishop Thomas à Becket that, when he traveled in France, "he ex-
