'A BLACK OU SHOP' 47 



built along a bar of shingle, looked like a row of 

 poll-parrots on a perch; and almost as we laughed 

 the north-easter came piping down the valley of 

 the Axe till the bay was feather-white and all of 

 a hiss with broken wavelets. 'Tfj a black ol' 

 shop !' the 01' Man complained. 'I'd sooner 

 hae six nights west than one night east up here. 

 'Tis more homely like, west. One thing, us 

 needn't to shoot if us hain't minded, but if us do, 

 'tisn't no good hauling in 'fore two or three in the 

 morning, 'cause the tide won't serve for landing. 

 What time did 'ee say 'twas? Seven o'clock? Four 

 hours, we been, getting up here! Come on, then I 

 Let's heave 'em out if we'm going to. Might 

 pick up a night's work.' 



We shot six forty-fathom nets, made fast the 

 road, boiled up some cold tea on a paraffin flare 

 blazing smokily in an old pot. Then we put on all 

 the clothes we could find, stuffed our feet into 

 sacks, and lay down for'ard; but not to sleep, for 

 even the ability to doze off with numb feet does 

 not greatly help one to go to sleep in a north- 

 easter that bites through the clothes all over one's 

 body. "Tis going to come snow, I believe,' the 

 or Man said. 'Pretty turn-out o't! Where 

 be us now? I reckon this yer strong flood-tide is 



