32, " IN THE HARD GREY WEATHER." 



for the stranger, as though she were ready 

 enough to play him off for half an hour or so 

 with her stout admirer, whose red " trap " has 

 been put up in the rear of the dwelling. But 

 the day has suddenly cleared up, the snow has 

 ceased to fall, and the sun has managed to get 

 a chance of shining over the forlorn landscape. 

 The fowler takes a comprehensive and strategic 

 survey of the ground, and decides on moving 

 seawards, where the springs are more frequent 

 and the salt in the marsh prevents the snipe 

 haunts from being altogether locked and 

 clamped by the frost. 



An artificial bank runs along a creek in 

 which the tide is now at its full. The water is 

 turbid and continues to lap and surge against 

 the wall of the protecting fence, as though it 

 were training to leap the barrier it has often 

 before triumphantly assailed. In the middle 

 of the fiord are several diminutive islands, on 

 which thousands and tens of thousands of sea- 

 birds are whuttering and screaming in a per- 

 petual clamour and Babel of shrieks. They 

 are, of course, quite unapproachable ; and, in- 

 deed, with few exceptions, would not be worth 



