"Also all Pike under three Qurters [quarters?] sixpence each, and Eels at three shillings per stone.
"Thomas Forder. his mark ×."
| "Witness | John Stagg, | |
| John Sandcroft, Jnr. |
The taking of eggs was at one time carried on to a great extent, and tended undoubtedly to the diminution of certain species. "All the marshes," wrote the Messrs. Paget in 1834, "but more especially about Oby, Thurne, and Acle, are found considerably profitable, by the numbers of Plovers' eggs which may be collected in them, and of which there is carried on a most extensive sale during the months of March, April, and May. The same person (Isaac Harvey) before mentioned sends an average of between six and seven hundred eggs to the London and other markets every week during the season." The "eggs" covered a variety of species, e.g. Snipe, Lapwings', Redshanks', Water-Rails', Moor-hens', and Coots'. At the present time a few small chip trays of Plovers' eggs appear in Yarmouth market every spring, but, as with the wildfowl, there is but a limited local sale.
There are many features connected with the bird-life of the neighbourhood which are worthy of note, among them the extreme uncertainty of migratory movements in large bodies. In some years certain rare species have appeared in unusual numbers, as in the case of the Shore Lark, Lapland Bunting, Little Auk, Buzzards, Skuas, and others; on the other hand, years may elapse without such records. These fluctuations undoubtedly depend upon, or are affected by, atmospheric conditions; a sharp winter, with continuous occurrences of heavy gales from the north, north-east, or south-east, will drive in many species, more particularly during the periods of migration. In October the local ornithologist hails with pleasure a south-easterly breeze, with "dirty weather" in its wake. The day previous certain species will be perhaps altogether absent; at night, as the wind freshens or the drizzling rain makes the darkness dismal, he may hear their clamorous call-notes resounding overhead; the bewildered birds, unaccustomed to the glare of our gas-lamps, keep wheeling around, as if attracted by them, incessantly calling in order to keep together their respective flocks, until the day dawns, when they drop upon the Breydon mud-flats to feed and
