194 WILD-FOWL AND SEA-FOWL OF GREAT BRITAIN 



When I first handled a gun, unknown to my 

 parents — and I started that game very early in life 

 — I was told by my tutors in sport, of pains and 

 penalties without hope of mercy if ever I "acted 

 the fool " and fired a gun within a mile of the 'coy. 

 At last I had so much of this that it was difficult to 

 get me to go there at all, even when I was needed 

 to help over technical business matters of detail 

 with my elders. 



When I used to sneak in from the marsh after 

 secret expeditions in the " dims," to leave my gun 

 with the one that lent it to me, he would say, " You 

 ain't bin near the 'coy, hev ye ? " until at last I hated 

 the very name of it ; but it was all made very 

 clear to me as I grew older. The 'coy went, like 

 many more marsh-land institutions, when the marsh 

 was drained. Where they caught ducks at one 

 time they now gather fruit. How places change ! 

 For centuries, things go on in one way, no one ever 

 dreams it is possible to alter them. Then a change 

 comes, and before you have time to realize it a new 

 face is on all things. Sometimes it is for the better. 

 It has been so in this case certainly, I know that 

 perfectly well ; but it is not always so, and changes 

 are often a trial. 



The life of a decoyman was not a very enviable 

 one. His firm belief was that every living soul on 

 the marshes was in league against him and his 

 precious ducks. If folks had not already done any 

 mischief, they meant to do it when the chance offered. 

 If he had not had these ideas he would not have 



