BREYDON IN LEISURELY AUTUMN 179 



net, in which we could see fishes struggling and flicking their 

 tails amid wrack and seaweed. With a careful pull the bight 

 of the net was now pulled in, and we both began throwing 

 bright cucumbery-scented smelts by the half-dozen into the 

 basket. 



" Look out ! " shouted Jary, jerking a small weever from 

 the net on to the mud, and jamming it deeply in. " I hate 

 them warmin ! " 



The lesser weever is an ugly, oblique-mouthed wretch, with 

 a stuggy little body only a few inches long, a vicious leer, 

 and a stiff little dorsal fin black, spiny, and poisonous, and 

 right capable and adroit is he in using the needle-pointed 

 spines. We got half a dozen weevers in all, and Jary 

 " heeled " the lot. Several small herrings, five or six flounders 

 of various sizes, an " eel-pout " or two, and quite a dozen 

 silvery-sided fishes, which Jary called " smolts." I told him 

 they were atherines ; and he did not need telling they were 

 dry, tasteless morsels, although sometimes they are foisted 

 upon the ignorant for the more exquisitely tasting smelt. 

 A couple of half-pound eels were left in the bight of the net 

 until all the less troublesome inmates were basketed or 

 thrown away, as their worth or uselessness suggested. Quite 

 a bucket of crabs were pitched with the weeds on to the flat, 

 to be rid of them. Those that had become hopelessly en- 

 tangled in the meshes were unceremoniously wrenched to 

 pieces ; it was useless to think of clearing them without 

 doing so. A few large shrimps and some white prawns were 

 left kicking among the refuse. 



The net having been rinsed, Jary carefully replaced it on 

 the stern of the boat, and mopped down ready for another 

 turn ! The smelts, when rinsed, were laid in rows in the 

 trunk ; we got over fifty that haul. One haul is so much 

 like another that it is needless to describe them all. When 

 we got to the edge of the channel, just over the other side of 

 the drain, we made a last haul down to the mouth of the 

 " Ship" drain. The tide had fallen low, and the flat ran well into 

 the channel. A softer bit of ground I had not drilled holes 

 into for several years. I never had such an experience as 

 that sink, pull, suck, and wriggle, which passed for progress. 

 Once I overbalanced myself, sank on all fours, and certainly 

 feared that Jary would have to drop his line and come and 



