which was always a favourite with Lubbock, and to whose habits, 
considering bis opportunities for observing them, he has fortunately 
devoted much space in bis ‘ Fauna.’ It is moreover satisfactory 
to know that the fear he expressed lest this species, by constant 
persecution, should be spoken of in the next generation “ as we 
now do of Bustards in the past tense,” will be averted by the 
provisions of the “ Sea-birds’ Preservation Act,” as well as by the 
almost universal desire shown by the proprietors of our broad 
waters to protect the “ Loon,” in particular, amongst our indige- 
nous species. 
As a specimen of bis stylo of writing, for those who may never 
have perused his work, I can scarcely quote a more characteristic 
portion than the following sketch of the life and habits of the 
b roadman of former days : — 
“ When I first visited the broads, I found here and there an occu ant, 
squatted down, as the Americans would call it, on the verge of a pool, who 
relied almost entirely on shooting and fishing for the support of himself and 
family, and lived in a truly primitive manner. 1 particularly remember one 
hero of this description. ‘ Our broad,’ as he .always called the extensive 
pool by which his cottage stood, was his microcosm — his world ; the islands 
in it were his gardens of the Hesperides— its opposite extremity his ultima 
Thule. Wherever his thoughts wandered, they could not get beyond the 
circle of his beloved lake ; indeed, I never knew them aberrant but once, 
when he informed me, with a doubting air, that he had sent his wife and his 
two eldest children to a fair at a country village two miles off, that their 
ideas might expand by travel ; as he sagely observed, they had never been 
away from ‘ our broad.’ I went into his house at the dinner hour, and 
found the whole party going to fall to most thankfully upon a roasted 
Herring Gull, killed of course on ‘ our broad.’ His life presented no vicis- 
situdes but an alternation of marsh employment. In winter, after his day’s 
reed-cutting, he might be regularly found posted at nightfall, waiting for 
the flight of fowl, or paddling after them on the open water. With the first 
warm days of February, he launched his fleet of trimmers, pike finding a 
ready sale at his own door to those who bought them to sell again in the 
Norwich market. As soon as the pike had spawned, and were out of season, 
the eels began to occupy his attention, and lapwings’ eggs to be diligently 
sought for. In the end of April, the island in his watery domain was 
frequently visited for the sake of shooting the ruffs which resorted thither, 
on their first arrival. As the days grew longer and hotter, he might be 
found searching, in some smaller pools near his house, for the shoals of 
tench as they commenced spawning. Yet a little longer, and he began 
marsh mowing — his gun always laid ready upon his coat, in case flappers 
should be met with. By the middle of August, teal came to a wet corner 
