12 WOODLAND, MOOR, AND STREAM 



kind soul smothered as soon as he could by cramming 

 his silk pocket-handkerchief into my mouth. Then 

 they ungently led me out. Oh dear ! 



When I was about twenty years of age, domestic 

 changes caused me to leave my old marshland home. 

 I parted with my old companions and kind friends 

 with sorrow. Just as I was going a hamper was 

 brought for me. It was a parting gift, and contained 

 water birds and waders, beautiful creatures captured 

 by the fishermen and their lads, as a last gift to ' the 

 boy,' as they still called me. 



