LONGSHORE MEMORIES 
then leap up in the air on their poles, as they came 
upon a dyke in pursuit of my agile friend the tres- 
passer. This was the style of thing you heard : ' I 
say, " Flighter," look here ! You'll cum onest too 
often, an' you knows it.' Or, ' You needn't take that 
'ere pole by the middle ; I ain't fool enough fur you 
tu ketch me flyin' over, where you've got out o" my 
ma'shes ; but you'll git it ; you've been out o' bounds 
agin.' 
' I knows I hev', but I ain't got all the mushe- 
rooms, you didn't give me time to fill this 'ere baskit. 
Now jest you go anuther track when I cums.' 
' Sha'n't do nuthin' o' the sort. Dooty is dooty ; 
an' ef you an' me does hev' a little ager medicine when 
I ain't on dooty, 'taint tu say as you are tu cum here 
musheroomin' ; an' you wun't. I'll leather ye, or you'll 
leather me, if we does fall foul o' one anuther, when 
I'm on dooty.' 
' I sha'n't be asleep when ye takes that 'ere job 
on ; but I reckins I may git my musherooms out o' 
somebody else's ma'sh to-day, old Srimper ! ' 
The afterglow of evening is on the marshes and 
lights up the waters of a winding lagoon which is 
fringed with reeds. The reed tassels look like dark 
feathers in the foreground ; behind them the sky is a 
soft rose colour, streaked with bands of richest purple. 
