On Lundy Island
Frankie is blowing Seagulls' eggs in the scullery. His father, after a day's work at the farm, is at his supper very hungry, yet immensely interested, and calls out occasionally, --
"'Ow you're getting on, Foreman?'
'All right, Capt.,'" says Frankie affectionately, and the unpleasant asthmatic, wheezy noise of the egg-blowing goes on...There are three dogs asleep under the kitchen table; all three belong to different owners and neither one to A--.
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