BOYHOOD WITH THE ROD 25 



There were few boys of my age and time who 

 could not make and set rabbit snares, or night lines. 

 The latter were occasions for privacy. It was of no 

 use setting night lines in the sight of other lads who 

 might get up earlier in the morning and draw them. 

 But in spite of the greatest possible boy-secrecy 

 someone was occasionally beforehand with us. 



The kitchen fire circle on winter nights in West- 

 morland is the place for hearing local stories and 

 traditions. The talk used not to be of Russia and 

 Germany but of wrestling matches, otter and fox 

 hunts, poaching, of storms and floods, and sheep 

 buried in the snow. Ghost stories also found a place 

 there, where the people were naturally superstitious, 

 and many a time, after listening to them entranced, 

 I hay;e gone shivering to bed without even the 

 consolation of candlelight. 



There were places on the road which were well 

 known to be the homes of boggles, and when we 

 passed them on dark nights it was generally at full 

 speed, our clogs sometimes striking fire on the hard 

 cobbles accelerating our speed. 



But it was not always story-telling that went on by 

 the fireside. We were often kept busy making 

 things, and there was little we could not do with a 

 pocket knife and a few pieces of string. We made 

 kites and bows and arrows, turnip-lanterns with faces 



