“Ay, bud I hev. Theer I’ll tek you, lads. Why don’t thou tek ’em wi’ you, Dave, man? Let un see the netting.”

Dave smiled in a curious way, and then his eyes twinkled as he looked from one to the other.

“Well, you wait a week, lads, and then I’ll fetch you.”

“To see the netting?”

“Ay. In another week there’ll be a deal more dry land, and the ruffs and reeves’ll be ower in flocks, I dessay. If they aren’t, we’ll try for something else.”

“Hooray!” cried Dick; and that evening there was nothing talked of but the projected trip.


Chapter Six.

The Departing Flood.