We were strolling through the village at the Zuiderzee Museum, enjoying the blue sky, the canals, and the mother goats with their kids keeping the ditches clean and kempt.  Near the working windmill was a Dutchman who was smoking kipper and the aroma was enticing so we walked a little closer. 
I learned that a more familiar name for the little fish is, simply, herring.  Well, since I love pickled herring, I thought I could safely take a bite out of the kipper sandwich that Allan seemed to be enjoy-ing.
The sandwich did not appear tasty, since the narrow brown filets were whole and hanging out the sides of the bun, but I'll try 'most anything once, so I took a bite ... and"Yuck!"
Some Dutch people that I hadn't noticed nearby started laughing at me.  I'm not sure if it was the bad expression on my face or the word "yuck," but it was obvious that people can understand some things even when they don't speak the same language.  Maybe yuck is universal.
The texture of the kipper was soft and mushy.  I don't like soft and mushy even when it comes to applesauce, much less a smelly ol' fish.  But I still like pickled herring and could eat a whole jar of them with saltine crackers.  Their texture is firm and solid and they don't taste fishy.
I'm thinking that herring is caught in  multitudes from a ship with nets and not with a hook, line, and sinker.  Be that as it may, I didn't hide a fish net in this issue of the Gazette, I hid a fishhook.  Hope you can find it.
Dozens of readers found the fishhook in last month's Gazette, hidden in that loaf of bread of R & B's on page 27, but only Katherine Girtz of Chaska had her name drawn to win the ten bucks.  Wrote Katherine, "Love your paper.  Good article on the Derhaags."  Thank you, Katherine, and congratulations.
If y'all find the fishhook hidden in this issue of the Gazette, drop a line to Box 387 in Victoria, MN 55386 and sink it in the mail.  And if you're going to order a fish sandwich, I'd stick with the menu at the Victoria House or any of the fast food varieties.  Good luck, little kipper.  You're better pickled!