“Not as I iver see,” said Dave with his quiet laugh. “I went right across to Ealand, and then walked four mile with my net and that boocket to Brader’s Mill on little Norley stream and ketched ’em theer, and carried ’em all the way back to the boat—four mile. For, I says, I should like they boys to ketch a big pike or two, and gudgeons is best baits I know.”
“Better than roach and rudd, Dave?”
“Ay, or perch, or tench, or anything. Carp’s a good bait; but you can’t always ketch carps.”
“You are a good chap, Dave!” cried Tom.
“Ay, that I am, lads. I say, though, talk ’bout ketching; hev the squire and Farmer Tallington ketched the chap as sat fire to Grimsey stables?”
“Nobody set fire to Grimsey stables,” said Tom. “It was to the stacks.”
“Nay, lad, I knows better than that,” cried Dave, shaking his head. “Why, didn’t I see with my own eyes as roof weer all bont off the top o’ stable, and doors gone.”
“Yes; but the stable caught fire from the stacks,” said Dick.
“Yah! how could it? Why, it’s reight the other side o’ the house.”
“Well, couldn’t the sparks and flames of fire float over and set light to the thatch?” cried Dick.