ON FOWLERS AND WILD-FOWLING. 157 



hind the wall, listenen' tu the gabble o' they geese," 

 now an' agin pokin' our heads up tu see how near 

 they wus gettin', when all at once we misses Josher. 

 Splashey looks at me an' then he crawls up the side 

 o' the wall and looks over, an' we sees Josher, 

 crawlin' through the blite on his hands an' knees, 

 workin' up to them 'ere geese. Splashey looks at 

 me, fierce es a rat in a trap, an' sez he tu me, ' The 

 six-footer shell reach 'em fust ; I'm damned if she 

 don't ! ' 



" I sees him take somethin' out o' his pocket an' 

 ram it down his old shooter ; an' he sez, ' Not this 

 time, Josher, you don't ! ' He lays his shooter on 

 the top o' the wall, draws his long her'n's shanks up, 

 and kneels down, takes aim at them 'ere geese, 

 an' off she goes : an' off goes poor old Splashey ! 

 Somethin' went by my head swish. Up went 

 Splashey's heels, an' then he rolled down the wall 

 into the dyke [ditch] at the bottom. Fur the time 

 I wus deaf an' silly-like. What in the name o' 

 mischief hed took place I didn't know, but I goes 

 down to him, an' then I sees as his six-footer hed 

 busted. She'd kicked a bit middlin' hard, an' took 

 Splashey a wipe on the head. The stock on her, 



