MEN AND MANNERS 57 



by rail and by steamboat, have all militated against that 

 quietude so beloved by birds, and what is quite essential 

 abundance of food. Birds in winter or in immature plumage 

 are comparatively worthless to the collector, from whom the 

 latter-day puntsmen derived their greatest profit ; and in 

 winter they are so uncertain in their visits that they could not 

 depend on shooting as a means of livelihood. Then, too, 

 latterly there has been a falling-off in " gentleman gunners," 

 who prefer to go to more bird-frequented haunts ; and the 

 puntsman's office as pilot and factotum became lost. In 

 Thomas's time almost all the old gunners had cleared out guns 

 and appurtenances,and the men, compelled still to follow Brey- 

 don, being useless for work ashore, turned their attention to 

 eel-babbing, eel-picking, and smelting. Several whom I knew 

 ended their days in the Union. Yet so strong is the fascina- 

 tion of this rough outdoor life, that there are still a number 

 of men pursuing it, and there are lads following in their 

 footsteps, for there is often profit enough to weigh against 

 the uncertainties and disappointments attendant on the 

 nets. 



" Pintail " Thomas's old punt-gun was fairly typical of 

 some used on Breydon. It had once been a flint-lock, and 

 on the coming in of the percussion cap had been altered at 

 the breech, as some others had been ; but for some years the 

 lock had become so weak that the trigger would refuse to 

 crack the patch unless persuaded two or three times, while 

 at times it refused to explode it at all. Thomas was prepared 

 against this, and always carried a piece of bent iron, part of 

 an old swivel's knee. This was used as a hammer, and the 

 cap cracked by means of it. Needless to say, birds some- 

 times benefited by this cumbersome and unsportsmanlike 

 method of procedure. Thomas was fortunate in his last 

 years, when racked by gout and the legacies of his old hard 

 life, in going into " dry dock " in the Old Fishermen's Alms- 

 houses, where, until his death, a roof and a weekly allowance 

 sufficient for his needs were assured him. Most of his old 

 chums had preceded him to the workhouse, and some of 

 them have gone there since. Poor old fellows ! They seem 

 quite resigned to this ignominious finale. I have found them 

 cheery and reminiscent when I have visited them, and sat by 

 them, loading their pipes, and talking of Breydon's departed 



