“They are made like a canoe, only smaller and lighter; and there’s a scull-hole in the stern, just above the water, to put the oar through; and then we lie down on our backs in the bottom, and take the oar over our shoulder, and scull up to the sea-fowl, and shoot them. Don’t they go gunning in your country?”
“The great folks do; but the poor folks and common people are not allowed to.”
“That’s a queer country; I wouldn’t like to live in such a country as that. Do you know how to shoot?”
“No; I never fired a gun in my life; you couldn’t shoot a sparrow—I was going to say a ‘bumble-bee’—in England, without being taken up.”
“What did you do?”
“I made baskets. Can you wrestle?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t you like to learn to shoot?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll show you some time what I know. Do you know how to mow or reap?”
“No.”