2 A MEDLEY OF SPORT 



the window of a squat, red-brick cot brings Gaffer Gilson 

 to a momentary halt. He lifts his rabbit-skin cap from 

 his grizzled head, and muttering, " God bless 'ee, Mary, 

 and bring ye safe through your trouble," proceeds with 

 less clatter than before towards the ancient stone jetty, 

 where the good rector's only son awaits his advent with 

 the keen impatience of a youthful sportsman. 



A long, low-sided, double-handed gunning-punt lies 

 alongside the jetty, and having greeted the budding wild- 

 fowler with a " Good-marnin', Maister Dick. A tidy lot 

 o' furrin fowl come in last few days, and I doubt not some 

 on 'em will be shelterin' in the crick after yesterday's nor'- 

 easterly gale," Gilson clings to the coping of the jetty 

 with both hands and drops with the agility of a young man 

 on to the floor of the crank craft, which is scarcely dis- 

 cernible in the gloom of early morning. The shoulder 

 guns are got aboard and stowed under the waterways, 

 the youngster takes his place behind the big l|-in. bore 

 stanchion gun, and the wind being off shore, and therefore 

 a " soldier's breeze " for the fowlers, a handkerchief -like 

 leg-o' -mutton sail is set on a broomstick of a mast, and, 

 gradually gaining way, the flat-bottomed gunning-punt 

 leaves the friendly shelter of the jetty and heads towards 

 what appears to be a rift in a low, dark cloud, but which 

 in reality is the mouth of a tidal creek flanked on either 

 shore by high escarpments, which enclose and protect 

 from the inroads of the North Sea a vast expanse of dyke 

 and fleet intersected marshes. 



