"I--beg your pardon, Master Shackle, for doing so.

I ought to have asked your leave." "Bah! Not a bit," said the fisher-farmer, with a chuckle.

"You're welcome, squire." "I thank you, Master Shackle--I thank you warmly.

You see her ladyship is very fond of the taste of a fresh gathered mushroom, and if I see a few I like to take them to the Hoze." "Ay, to be sure," said Shackle, as he thought to himself "And precious glad to get them, you two poor half-starved creatures, with your show and sham, and titles and keep up appearances." "I--er--I have not got many, Master Shackle.

Would you like to see ?" continued the tall thin gentleman, raising the flap of one of his salt-box pockets.
"I don't want to see," growled the other, as he stood patting the neck of his old grey horse.