122 WILD LIFE ON A NORFOLK ESTUARY 



Tuesdays and Fridays. " Fifty and sixty yeer ago wor the 

 time," old Breydoners will tell you; "them wor the days 

 when a Breydoner could git a livin'." 



It may be interesting to those who prefer the aristocratic 

 lobster to the plebeian edible crab, to state that the latter is 

 one of the cleanest feeders possible, and nothing but the 

 freshest arid sweetest morsels will attract him ; even his 

 little cousin, the ubiquitous shore-crab, I am confident pre- 

 fers a live, fat shrimp, or a toothsome smelt which he has caught 

 in some " low," to the viler carrion he is usually accredited 

 with being partial to. On the other hand, the lobster has the 

 most depraved appetite, and any garbage is good enough to 

 tempt him to his destruction. In the old days the North 

 Norfolk catchers used to rely greatly on open hoop-nets with 

 which to ensnare their prey, and in bad weather the crabs ran 

 away with much bait. The well-known "pots" are now 

 exclusively used. 



To-day flounders are by no means so plentiful, and no one 

 specially nets for them ; but should a few score of them 

 happen to get mixed up with the catches in the smelt-nets 

 they are not despised, for the smelter can dispose of them to 

 the fried-fish purveyor, or can use them for his own table. 

 When eel-picking is in progress flounders are often struck by 

 the pick, which usually cuts them badly ; but for all that, if 

 one is halved by the cut, the fisherman will tell you, " Well, 

 'bor, that ain't much account ; if he's a big 'un, we can eat 

 both inds on him ! " 



I must confess to a great partiality for the toothsome 

 " butt," and in my summer holidays on Breydon I always 

 take my " butt "-pick as well as my eel-pick. It is nice to 

 tumble out of the houseboat into the punt and repair to 

 the nearest drain, and having stabbed a few " butts," to row 

 back and clean them, and drop them into the waiting fry- 

 pan before the " kick " has fairly died out of them. A few 

 hours' drying in the air makes them even better eating. A 

 few viviparous blennies, skinned and fried with them, make a 

 dish fit for a king. 



Flounders running to a very large size come up the river 

 in December and January, when they spawn, and frequent 

 the deeper waters and the confluence of the Bure and the 

 Yare. They are then excellent eating, as they are again in 



