THE BROAD DISTRICT. 3 



December day, the first of the Christmas holidays, that our story 

 opens. 'A tall large-limbed boy, about sixteen years of age, 

 yellow-haired, and blue-eyed, stands with his hands in his 

 pockets, looking over the waste of waters on which the wavelets 

 are dancing before a fresh breeze. His name is Frank Merivale, 

 and he appears deep in thought. 



The broad waters he is gazing over are lonely and deserted 

 save for occasional flights of wild-fowl, a marshman slowly pulling 

 his boat across, and a wherry (as a Norfolk sailing barge is 

 called) beating to windward along the broad, making very slow 

 tacks to and fro, the reason of which would not be apparent to 

 one who did not know the broad. Why does she not take long 

 stretches which would take her more swiftly on her course? 

 The reason is this, the broad is not more than three feet deep 

 all over, save for a narrow channel in the middle, which is 

 marked out by posts at long intervals, and if the wherry forsook 

 this channel she would run aground. 



The Norfolk wherries are of very peculiar build and graceful 

 appearance. They are long, low, and shallow, rather flat- 

 bottomed, but fine and sharp in the stem and stern, which 

 gives them a good hold of the water. They have one mast, 

 stepped well forward and weighted at the foot so that it can be 

 lowered to pass under bridges, and be easily raised again. This 

 mast supports one immense sail, tanned black or red-brown. 

 They sail wonderfully fast, even rivalling the yachts in their 

 speed, and they can go very close to the wind. They are gene- 

 rally worked by two men, who live and sleep in the little cabin 

 astern. 



We left Frank Merivale very much absorbed in thought. 

 All at once a happy thought seemed to strike him, for he 

 started from his reverie, and began to execute a step something 

 between a walk and a war-dance. A clump of rushes put an 

 untimely end to this by tripping him up, and causing him to 

 measure his length upon the ground. With philosophical 

 composure he picked himself up, and walked off, whistling 

 merrily, towards a fir copse which stood upon the crest of a 

 rising, lying above. We should say that while the flat marsh 

 stretches between Hickling Broad and the sea, to the westward 

 and inland the country is diversified with woods, and slight 

 elevations forming a very pretty sylvan district. Reaching the 

 fir-wood Frank entered it, and after looking about for a little 



B 2 



