WHEN MARCH WINDS BLOW. 145 



one thought about going farther than that for 

 snipe-shooting, and very fair snipe-shooting it was 

 for a woodland district. I have seen the birds 

 close to dwelling - houses and railway stations. 

 The meadows were used for grazing purposes. One 

 little fellow I knew, ten years old, went out with 

 his father once to beat snipes up. Child-like, he 

 was all eyes and ears for the sport. The boy's 

 parent was a good snipe-shot. Not many minutes 

 had he tapped about under his father's directions, 

 for snipe at times can be almost trodden on, 

 before up got another long - bill with a scape, 

 scape, scape. 



"Look out, father! what's that?" yelled the 

 boy. Bang ! and the bird dropped. 



" Go and pick him up, my man ; you know 

 where he dropped." Off darted the youngster in 

 high glee to the spot, looked, and went back to 

 his father with a long face, saying, " It ain't a 

 bird at all, father, it's a great striped toad ; it 

 squats there, an' I can't pick it up." 



When the snipe dropped, it had placed itself 

 in the usual attitude for the purpose of conceal- 

 ment before life left it ; the position of the bird 



K 



