So THE BIRD LIFE OF FORMBY. 



" 'Ow do," was the reply. 



" That was a good shot," I shouted. 



" No so bad," he replied. 



" Been here long," said I. 



" Matter o' four or foive 'our," was the reply. 



" Had any luck," I again inquired, as he waded back with the 

 birds in his hand, " besides those curlew ? " 



"Oy, ay! A's gettin' a few." 



" Let's see what you've got ? " I then asked the man, whom I 

 knew well enough in his ordinary clothes, but who greatly resembled 

 the wild man of Borneo, in his shore shooting kit. 



Meanwhile he started emptying his various pockets on to the 

 the sand, and a goodly array of wild fowl there was. Three 

 widgeons, a shell duck, six curlews, fourteen dunlin, and a tame 

 pigeon, which, I presume, he had shot on his way to the shore. 



" Where did you get the widgeons ? " I asked. 



"Killed 'em by Runs o' Alt 'bout 'alf-past six this mornin'," 

 he answered. 



" And you mean to say you've been out ever since ! " I 

 inquired. 



" Oh, ay ! " was the answer, " and ag'in to-morrer, too." 



