me one's going to kill him, and draws coffins on the paper, it's
enough to mak' him look back."

"It's all stuff, neighbour! Treat it as I do--with contempt."

"Ah! you see you're a gentleman, squire, and a bit of a scholar, and I'm
only a plain man."

"A good neighbour and a true Englishman, Tallington; and I'm glad my son
has so good and frank a companion as your boy. There, take my advice:
treat all this opposition with contempt."

"Theer's my hand, squire," said Farmer Tallington. "You nivver gave me
a bad bit of advice yet, and I'll stick to what you say--but on one
condition."

"What's that?" said the squire, smiling.

"You'll let me grumble now and then."

Long before Farmer Tallington had parted from the squire at the
beginning of the rough track which led from the Priory to Grimsey, Dick
and Tom were down by the water's edge waiting for Dave, who came up with
a dry-looking smile upon his face--a smile which looked as if it were
the withered remains of a last year's laugh.

"How are you, Dave?" cried Dick. "We only just knew you were coming.
Are there plenty of ducks?"

"Mebbe. Few like," said Dave in the slow way of a man who seldom
speaks.

"_Wuph_! _wuph_!" came from the boat.

"What! Chip, boy! how are you?" cried Dick, patting the dog, which
seemed to go half mad with delight at having someone to make a fuss over
him, and then rushed to Tom to collect a few more friendly pats and
words.

"Shall we get in, Dave?" cried Tom.

"Get in, lad! Why, what for?"

"Now, Dave, don't go on like that," cried Dick impatiently. "Let's get
on, there's a good fellow. I do want to see you work the decoy."

"Oh, you don't care for that! 'Sides, I want to go to Hickathrift's to
see his dunky pigs."

"Nonsense! What do you want to see the dunks for?"

"Thinking o' keeping a pig o' my own out thar, lads. It's rayther
lonesome at times; and," he added quite seriously, "a pig would be
company."

The boys looked at one another and smothered a laugh for fear of giving
offence.

"What, with a place like a jolly island all to yourself, where you live
like a Robinson Crusoe and can keep tame magpies and anything you like,
and your boat, and your dog, and eel-spear?"

"And nets," put in Tom.

"And fishing-lines," said Dick.

"And gun," said Tom.

"Ay, lads," said Dave gravely; "seems aw reight to you, but it be
lonesome sometimes when the bootherboomps get running out o' the reeds
in the dark