THE JERSEY COAST. 131 
pugilistic encounter we had witnessed. It lent poiut 
to many a good hit at Bill’s expense; even his wife, 
who is a fine, resolute-looking woman, saying that 
if she had seen it sooner, she would have taken a 
broomstick and flogged them both. The general 
impression was, she could have made her words 
good. 
The pleasure of indulging in fun at the expense of 
a fellow-creature is very great, and Bill’s adventure 
was certainly fair game. When our wit was ex- 
hausted, and the craving for tobacco mollified by the 
steady use of our pipes, our thoughts and voices 
turned to our never-wearying passion, and one of 
the party commenced : 
“T have shot a number of the birds you call 
kriekers ; they are a fat bird, but do not seem to 
stool. Ihave never before shot them, except occa- 
sionally on the meadows.” 
“They don’t stool,” said Bill, ‘and only utter a 
krieking kind of ery; but in October they come 
here very thick, and we walk them up over the 
meadows. Why, you can shoot a hundred a day.” 
“ A most excellent bird they are, too—fat and 
delicate. They are the latest of the bay-snipe in re- 
turning from the summer breeding-places; and as 
they rise and fly from you, they afford extremely 
pretty shooting. They are sometimes called short- 
neck, and are, ina gastronomic point of view, the 
best bay-snipe that is put upon the table.” 
“ We call the bay-birds usually snipe,” said the 
first speaker ; “but I have been told they are not 
