MARCH IN BROADLAND. 27 



suade owd Farmer Giles tu du nothin' of the kind, for I heer'd him say tu as how, 

 when he wor young, he knocked 'em over all ways, an' what did it du? Why, his 

 crops wor simply spiled with the wire-worams an' other critters the rooks are fond 

 on. Du yow see them white bards hinder? Them's sea-mows (gullsj. They're 

 the master-piece bards for pickin' up worams (worms). I ha' seen 'em so full of 

 'em as they couldn't scarce fly. Du I know a rook from a crow ? I shud jest think 

 I du. They ain't the same at all. Eooks prog togither in flocks, crows doan't. 

 Crows ha' got brussels (bristles) round the top bake (upper mandible), an' rooks 

 ha' got white skin on instead. Crows like dade things better 'an grubs and corn 

 an' taters. Du I like the job ? Wai, I doan't mind it, there ain't a sight o'hard 

 work about it. Thankee ! sir, but I must be a-goin', yinder rooks are settlin' 

 athowt the field, an' master'll wonder if I'm clean gone tu sleep or if I'm shanny !' 



Our merry crow-boy slouches away repeating his clapping and his merry 

 refrain. He appears an intelligent lad for such brainless labour, and withal seems 

 contented with his lot. He is not the lout his fathers were, for the days of com- 

 pulsory education had dawned not in their time. The yokel reads and thinks 

 to-day, and is not the serf in body and mind to the squire and parson as he was a 

 generation or two ago, whilst the squire and parson are more tolerant and broader- 

 minded than many of their predecessors were. It is well that ' larnin' ' does not 

 drive all the lads from the ploughtail, and make them discontented with the dull 

 monotony of an agricultural life. Our crow-boy may be tempted in the autumn, 

 like many of his class, in this district, when harvest is over, to join a fishing crew 

 and pursue the North Sea herring fishery. And will he be acting contrary to the 

 instincts inherited from his forefathers the old Vikings, who were fishermen and 

 farmers as well as warriors ? 



It is a glorious March morning. The blustering winds that ushered in the 

 month have dried up much of the moisture February left behind it. The sun has 

 forced a passage out between the clouds that obscured his face earlier in the day, 

 and his rays are lighting up the lane ahead of us. With the weight of parapher- 

 nalia we are carrying, for we are laden with the trappings of the angler, we can 

 easily believe old Sol is gaining strength; indeed, the perspiration is standing in 

 little beads upon our foreheads. There are no conveyances here from the station 

 to the Broad until the warmer days shall lure larger numbers hither. It is ten 

 minutes since we rested by the scarecrow's gate. Let us sit a moment or two on 

 this grassy bank. A startled thrush dashes out of the hedge hard by us. See! 

 it has already built its rough clay-lined nest. There are a couple of eggs within 

 it. A pair of chaffinches on the tree behind us are choosing a site for the erec- 



