hare."

"Like me to go and catch him, young Tom?"

"Here, I'll soon see if there's a hare," cried Dick; but Dave caught him
by the shoulder with a grip of iron, and thrust the pole he carried into
the soft bog.

"I didn't say I was going to run a hare down," he said. "Theer's a hare
yonder in her form. Shall I go and catch her?"

"Yes," said Dick, grinning. "Shall I say, `Sh!'"

"Nay, if thou'rt going to play tricks, lad, I shall howd my hand. I
thowt yow wanted to see me ketch a hare."

"Go on, then," said Dick, laughing; "we won't move."

Dave chuckled, swung his basket behind him as if hung by a strip of
cow-hide over his shoulder, and walked quietly on, in and out among the
tufts of heather and moss, for some five-and-twenty yards.

"He's laughing at us," said Dick.

"No, he isn't. I've heard Hickathrift say he can catch hares," replied
Tom. "Look!"

For just then they saw Dave go straight up to a tuft of dry grass, stoop
down and pick up a hare by its ears, and place it on his left arm.

The boys ran up excitedly.

"Why, Dave, I didn't think you could do it!" cried Dick.

"Dessay not," replied the decoy-man, uttering his unpleasant laugh.
"Theer, she's a beauty, isn't she?"

The hare struggled for a moment or two, and then crouched down in the
man's arm, with its heart throbbing and great eyes staring round at its
captors.

"Kill it, Dave, kill it," cried Tom.

"Kill it! What for? Pretty creatur'," said Dave, stroking the hare's
brown speckled fur, and laying its long black-tipped sensitive ears
smoothly down over its back.

"To take home."

"Nay, who kills hares at the end of March, lad? Hares is mad in March."

"Is that why it let you catch it, Dave?"

"Mebbe, lad, mebbe, Mester Dick. Theer, hev you done stroking her?"

"No. Why?"

"Going to let her run?"

"Wait a bit," cried Dick.

"Tek her by the ears, lad, and putt thy hand beneath her. That's the
ways."

Dick took the hare in his arms, and the trembling beast submitted
without a struggle.

"How did you know it was there?" said Tom.

"How did I know she was theer! Why, she had her ears cocked-up
listening, plain enough to see. Theer, let her go now. She's got a
wife somewheers about."

"_She's_ got a wife! Why don't you say _He_?" cried Dick. "Now, Tom,
I'm going to let him go; but he won't run, he's a sick one. You'll see.
Anyone could catch a hare like this."

He carefully placed the hare upon the gr