AT FLIGHT TIME 



There is a bite in the air and the amateur gunner 

 shivers a little while fumbling at the " granny " with 

 which he fastened the painter of his dinghy to a ring-bolt 

 on the fish-wharf the preceding night. 



" Don't 'ee cast off t'owd dinghy for a moment, 

 maister ! Oi be a-comin' flightin', too," is the stentorian 

 hail of " Widgeon " Joe, the professional wildfowler and 

 eel-catcher, as the man in the dinghy thumbs away at the 

 unholy tangle. 



" Widgeon " Joe clatters down the fish-reeking wharf 

 in his heavy tuck-boots, and ere the amateur has solved 

 the m3^stery of how to unravel a double-tied " granny " 

 reef, he has lain his long-barrelled 8-bore 'cussion gun 

 along the thwarts of the little craft and seated himself 

 comfortably in the stern-sheets. 



" What be t' matter with t'owd painter, maister ? Got 

 un granny tied agin, I doubt," says the professional, for 

 although the darkness of early morning obscures the 

 movements of the amateur, " Widgeon " Joe makes a 

 very shrewd guess anent the cause of the delay in setting 

 out for the Point salts. He has sailed with the amateur 

 before to-day, and has learned that the latter does not 

 excel in the art of knotting and splicing. 



At length the painter is cleared, the small balance- 

 lug-sail belhes to the brisk, off-shore breeze, and with 

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