“Twearable, twearable. Dwont ’e ax ov me vor gude now, dwont ’e”. And he put up his broad hand before his broad face.
“Terrible, terrible”, said the coroner, going by the light of nature in his interpretation; “but I do not mean the exact spot only where the body was found. I mean, how was the ground as regards dry and wet, for the purpose of retaining footmarks”?
“Thar a bin zome rick–rack wather, ’bout a sannit back. But most peart on it ave a droud up agin. ’Twur starky, my lard, moor nor stoachy”. Here Mark felt that he had described things lucidly and powerfully, and looked round the room for approval.
“Stiff rather than muddy, he means”, explained Mr. Brockwood, smiling at the coronerʼs dismay.
“Were there any footprints upon it, in the part where the ground could retain them”?
“ʼTwur dounted and full of stabbles, in the pearts whur the mulloch wur, but the main of ’un tuffets and stramots”.
“That is to say”, Mr. Brockwood translated, “the ground was full of impressions and footmarks, where there was any dirt to retain them; but most of the ground was hillocky and grassy, and so would take no footprints”.
“When you were searching, did you find anything that seemed to have been overlooked”?
“Yees, my lard, I vound thissom”—producing Cradʼs stubby meerschaum—“and thissom”—a burnt felt–wad—“and a whaile vurther, ai vound thissom”. Here he slowly drew from his pocket a very fine woodcock, though not over fat, with its long bill tucked most carefully under its wing. He stroked the dead bird softly, and set its feathers professionally, but did not hand it about, as the court seemed to anticipate.
“In what part, and from what direction, has that bird been shot”?