JUNE IN BROADLAND. 61 



was when I wor a youngster, we cud du a bit of shootin'. In this wery neighbour- 

 hood I ha' put up five ' bottle-bumps ' (bitterns) in a day, an' shot three on 'em, 

 an' thowt nothin' on it. Now, if one is heerd on, every man Jack as shoulders 

 a shootin'-iron is on the rampage arter it. Why ? 'Cos they're scarce, and gents 

 ha' got a craze for 'em for stuffin' 'em, like as they hev them pretty black an' 

 white avocets. I've heerd my father say as how them long-legged critters built 

 their neesen by them trees out hinder, an' a lot of old herons built in the treetops, 

 which seems a funny thing for a waterbard tu du. Why are the bitterns an' them 

 no longer plentiful? Why, ain't they drained the meshes (marshes) an' the low- 

 lands, turnin' thousands of acres into pastures and cultiwation ? I've heerd my 

 owd dad say an' true it wor tu 



4 For we shall rue it, if 't be true 



That Fens be undertaken ; 

 An' where we feed in Fen an' reed, 

 They'll feed both beef an' bacon.' 



An' don't they ? Besides, there ain't the lay (shelter) for the bards theer 

 was; would yow cum here, Mr. Painter, if yow cuddent git a place worth the 

 daubin' on that 'ere pictur' ? Wai, that's the way with them. As tu them clinkers 

 (avocets), I've heerd the old man say, them chaps as fish for salmon up in New- 

 castle was the cause o' they a-leavin' ! indeed, they wor wiped out clean for the 

 sake o' their feathers, as was made up into artificial flies. We see one now an' 

 again, so we du a bittern, but they are furreners, as only cum over in April and 

 May. If they don't stop they git kilt, and then they're obliged tu, sure-ly. 



1 Lor, gentlemen, times is altered altogither. See them geese hinder? Yeers 

 ago we used tu rear thousands, afore iron an' brass pens was made. We bred 'em 

 for their quills an' feathers, and gozzards (goose-herds) were as much thought on 

 an' wanted as shepherds is tu-day. We plucked 'em alive four or five times a year, 

 fust at Lady-day, for body an' wing feathers, t'other times for body feathers only. 

 The young 'ens we broke in even at six weeks old by pluckin' out theer tails. Cruel ? 

 Wai, 'bor, I s'pose yow'd reckon it wor, and p'raps it was. But yer see things ivor 

 different then. Yow can't whack a stubborn owd dicky now, so I've heerd say, 

 athowt a man in brass buttons hevin' yer afore the beaks. Pritty how tu du ! An' 

 then there's everything else as is gone wrong. We used tu burn dried cow dung 

 an' hovers (peat); now we hev' coals, in course them puffin-Billies (trains) ha' 

 turned all that over, not as that matters much. Theer's a change tu they ha' made. 

 We used to be quiet here once, 'bor, but now see what swarms of folks a holiday- 

 makin' they turn in upon us. Yachtin' I kin du with, providin' them chaps in 



