exposure, as to be returned to the water, where they soon recover.
O'Gorman describes the Perch as fond of noise, and as even sensible to the charms of music. One of his sons assured him that he had once seen a vast shoal of Perch appear at the surface, attracted by the sound of the bag-pipes of a Scotch regiment, that happened to be passing over a neighbouring bridge, and that they remained until the sounds died away in the distance.[1]
The Perch is a bold and fearless fish, and not a little destructive: small fry of all kinds are greedily devoured by him; he roots up the spawn-beds to feed on the deposited ova; small Roach and Trout are destroyed by him in great numbers, and even Trout of considerable size are often driven from their feeding-places near shore by this beautiful but tyrannical spinous-finned fish.
In the beautiful lake of Geneva the Perch is said to be subject to a singular accident. In the winter these fishes ordinarily remain at a considerable depth, where, from the superincumbent weight of so great a body of water, the air contained within the swim-bladder is much compressed. If now from any impulse a fish suddenly rises to the surface, the pressure being removed, the air forcibly expands, and not being able to find any outlet, the membranous bladder becomes greatly distended, sometimes to such a degree that it is forced out at the mouth of the fish, dragging the stomach, turned inside out, with it. In this sad condition, unable to sink, the
- ↑ Practice of Angling, ii. 2.
