46 MAT IJV BROADLAND. 



blossoms of the hawthorn, the thorny stems of the dog-rose are adorned with 

 the pale pink petals, and festoons of the climbing honeysuckle fill the air with 

 fragrance. Here the droning bees delight to work, and the light-winged butter- 

 flies to dance and coquet. Cowslips dot the meadows, but in many places are 

 far out-numbered by the yellow crowfoot, which children delight to call the butter- 

 cup. On the hedge banks the azure-blue flowers of the germander are conspicuous, 

 whilst hard by the milkwort is pushing up its pink blossoms, and the humbler 

 red-nettle bears them company. Birds are singing their sweetest love-songs in 

 bush and tree and hedgerow, and above them soars the plainest bird of all, the 

 blithesome lark, but never a one can outdo him at a roundelay. A bright and 

 almost cloudless day of clear shining tinges all nature with sunshine. Our spirits 

 are in harmony with our surroundings. 



On such a day as this we would make our way to the Broads. It is early yet 

 for yachting, but more than one ' white-winged ' craft shows its great glistening 

 sails above the lowlands that stretch away north and westwards from the town. 

 Those dark brown sails, which seem to rise out of the very marshes and glide this 

 way and that, denote the progress of the quaint Norfolk wherries along the course 

 of the serpentine Bure. Some friends of ours are about to indulge in a day's out- 

 ing upon the river, and we have accepted their invitation to bear them company 

 as far as they choose to ferry us. Thence we hope to boat our way across one of 

 the largest of the Broads, and return by rail. 



Behold us bowling along under all canvas, the bonnie Lapwing cleaving her 

 way in gallant style through the rippling waters, the steady breeze pressing her 

 onward. Splendid boats are these Norfolk yachts, spreading plenty of canvas, with 

 tall, tapering masts, long gaffs, and longer bow-sprits, with plenty of counter, very 

 little keel, and enormous rudders. They are easy to handle, and in experienced 



hands are a thing of beauty and a joy for as long as the breeze holds good. 



But the bends of the river, as the stream winds its circuitous course, keep the man 

 at the tiller busy, for now we have to get upon this tack and then upon the other. 

 How bewilderingly the river ' twisters; ' we seem from time to time to be head- 

 ing for every point of the compass; now we're on our starboard, then our port side, 

 now beating up to wind'ard, then off we go again, spinning along so gaily, our great 

 sails bellying to the wind then we tack again, the canvas fluttering like the wing 

 of some seabird shaking off the spray, until we catch the breeze again, and off we 

 go upon the other tack. But how jolly and exhilarating ! What a sense of buoy- 

 ancy and freedom we feel, unfettered for awhile from the conventionalities and the 

 restraints of society and of business ! 



