AUGUST IN B1WADLAND. 85 



bit partial tu me ; and we went up theer with our old 8-bores an' a hatchet. Up 

 an' down the poor bards was flyin', and as soon as they seed the open patch of water, 

 an' sum chaff we'd thrown in, a-flotin' on it, in they plumped. We wor a-hind a 

 heap o' faggots ; and if yew b'lieve me, we blazed away several times, pickin' up 

 near twenty pokers (pochards), a dozen wild duck and mallard, several teal, and 

 amongst 'em a number of rattle-wings (golden eyes), and a lovely black and white 

 weasel-duck, what yow'd call a smew. We filled a sack, didn't say much about it, 

 and sold 'em at a dacent figure at a Norwich poulterer's. Yew've got a fish, lady! 

 Now then, let me shove the net under; steady a bit keep the line taut, now wind 

 up a bit. Now we've got him ! And as nice a perch it is as IV seen for a wery long 

 chalk. If it ain't a tew-pounder, my name ain't Sharman ! ' 



Nothing more out of the common falls a prey to the allurements of our well- 

 cleansed lob-worms. Bream mostly under a pound in weight, chance-time one 

 above it a few heedless little roach, and now and then a perch, or a succession of 

 them, make our floats dance and vanish. There is fun galore, * tho' what is fun 

 to you is death to us,' the hapless fish might tell us ; even the squeamishness of 

 the fair sex vanishes in the excitement of the pastime, and the most fugitive 

 thought that angling savours of the cruel and the ungodly appears to have flitted 

 also. May we not have felt like old Walton in his vindication of an angler's 



innocence ? 



'For so our Lord was pleased when 

 He fishers made fishers of men; 

 Where (which is in no other game) 

 A man may fish and praise His name.' 



In the meantime Sharman has been most graciously communicative. 



1 Theer ain't much as'll beat fishin' when the fish'll bite, sir. And we ain't 

 duin' badly this mornin'. Why, I've took folks on heer afore, and fished the hull 

 day out athowt a sorry scale comin' up. How many fish ha' we got in Broadland ? 

 Wai, le' me see, theer's over a score. I'll run 'em over. Pearch, yeller bream, 

 roach, roud (rudd), silver bream, ruffes (tha's one yow now hauled in, Miss), 

 minners (minnows), gudgeons, pikes (some on 'em whoppers!), tench, and miller's 

 thumbs them's all common. Then theer's crucian carp, and the 'tother carp, 

 which is as artful as a lawyer, and trout higher up the river them I know on. 

 And I've heerd say theer's loach, and p'raps a few chub, an' maybe one or tew more, 

 but I ain't seen 'em. An' seein's believin', ain't it? I ain't mentioned eels? 

 Wai, yow doan't hardly call 'em fish. What are they, then ? Why, eels, in course. 

 Theer's tew sorts o' them. 



