As the season advances and the summer comes he gathers vast quantities
of dandelion leaves, parsley, sowthistle, clover, and so forth, as food
for the tame rabbits kept in towns. If his haunt be not far from a
river, he spends hours collecting bait--worm and grub and fly--for the
boatmen, who sell them again to the anglers.
Again there is work in the meadows--the haymaking is about, and the
farmers are anxious for men. But the moucher passes by and looks for
quaking grass, bunches of which have a ready sale. Fledgeling
goldfinches and linnets, young rabbits, young squirrels, even the nest
of the harvest-trow mouse, and occasionally a snake, bring him in a
little money. He picks the forget-me-nots from the streams and the
'blue-bottle' from the corn: bunches of the latter are sometimes sold in
London at a price that seems extravagant to those who have seen whole
fields tinted with its beautiful azure. By-and-by the golden wheat calls
for an army of workers; but the moucher passes on and gathers groundsel.
Then come the mushrooms: he knows the best places, and soon fills a
basket full of 'buttons' picking them very early in the morning. These
are then put in 'punnets' by the greengrocers and retailed at a high
price. Later the blackberries ripen and form his third great crop; the
quantity he brings in to the town is astonishing, and still there is
always a customer.
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