The wildfowling season was coming to an end, and the pinkfeet were on the move to their northern nesting grounds. I had nothing to do during the next two months except help my father kill rabbits and attend vermin traps on his 1,500-acre partridge beat. The only chance I had of earning money during the summer was to act as warden on the ternery. In that job I would receive 14s for a seven-day week, but it would finish about the first week in July, leaving three empty months before the geese returned.
I was feeling unsettled because of an offer I had received from my elder brother, who had settled in the United States of America.
