LEADENHALL MARKET. 121 
feathers on the mudflats, the gliding punt, the heavy boom of the punt-gun, 
the sharp reports of the cripple-stoppers, and the triumphant return to the 
shore. 
Or this half-emptied box of Dunlins. Can we not picture the 
([t) 
long- 
’ 
shore”? gunner as he steals upon the unsuspecting flock, and ruthlessly rakes 
them while still standing on the muds, and all to provide one of the most 
disappointing dishes that ever man was invited to partake of, for no one ever 
has been, or ever will be, found to say that he likes Dunlin? Hard by, an 
epicure is examining some Golden Plover, carefully scrutinizing the feet, lest 
the presence of a hind toe betray the fact that they are really ‘‘ Grey”’; and 
further on, again, some collector is haggling over the price of a Golden-Eye, 
the salesman expatiating on the perfect condition of the bird, while the 
would-be purchaser insists that it is badly shot in the neck and will never 
make a respectable specimen. 
Many naturalists regularly visit the market in search of rarities, and many 
are the rare birds which have been secured in this way. Varieties of the 
genus Grebe and Crake, and, in the spring time, Ruffs from Holland, are 
prizes which one may always hope to pick up; and though this cannot be 
considered the most sporting method of increasing one’s collection, yet there 
is nevertheless a certain fascination in spying out the birds; and when 
rheumatism and old age have conspired to stop our visits to the saltings, 
Leadenhall presents itself as a substitute, and, for want of a better, is wel- 
comed by many, if only because it serves as a connecting-link with the never- 
to-be-forgotten triumphs of the past. 
Here we may renew acquaintance with the Pintail, one of the most 
elegant of all the Ducks. They are to be seen sandwiched in between 
Pochards, Teal, Wigeon, and Mallards, while here and there is suspended an 
odd specimen of the Tufted Duck, or perhaps a Ked-throated Diver, caught 
napping in some seaside estuary, and despatched to London in a mixed con- 
signment of Thrushes, shore-birds, and wild-fowl. In fact, as is the case 
with shore-shooting, the uncertainty as to what may turn up next is one of 
the chief elements that lend interest to a stroll round the market. The sales- 
men are quick to divine the motives of the purchaser, and.if they think he is 
buying the bird to stuff, the price will vary in accordance with a rough 
estimate as to the limits of their victim’s gullibility. 
Turning out of the main thoroughfare into the labyrinth of dark and narrow 
passages on the right, we come to that section of Leadenhall which is given 
up to the vendors of live-stock. In one cage two rabbits are quietly munching 
their cabbage, wholly oblivious of the fact that their next-door neighbour, a 
