At another time ordinary tackle would be rigged up, and Dave would take them to some dark hole where fish were known to swarm, and for hours the decoy-man would sit and watch patiently while the three companions pulled up the various denizens of the mere.
One bright April morning Dave was seen coming out of the mist, looking gigantic as he stood up in his boat; and his visit was hailed with delight, for the trio had been wondering how they should pass that day.
"Morning, Dave!" said Marston as the fen-man landed slowly from his boat, and handed Dick a basket of fresh ducks' eggs.
"Morn', mester! Tak them up to the missus, Mester Dick.

They be all noo-laid uns.

Straange thick haar this morn," he continued, wiping the condensed mist from his eyelashes.

"Re'glar sea-haar." [sea-fog--mist from the German Ocean.] "Take those eggs up to mother, Tom," said Dick imperatively.
"Sha'n't.

I know! You want to be off without me." "Hallo, young fellow!" said the squire cheerily.