Three bits.

I was going to bury half on it, for it won't keep mor'n two nights; but your two sheep, dogs'll help him.

We'll feed 'em up a bit for two or three days, and then starve 'em for two or three more to put it straight.

Now then, sir, you stick the fork into they three bits, and you shall feed 'em, that'll clinch old Nibbler's making friends with you.

See ?" Nic nodded.
"Look," said Samson: "he knows what I've been saying." The dog, which was sitting watching, with a collie on either side--the latter evidently in doubt as to whether the joints were intended for the house--gave a deep bark.
"Now give him the biggest bit, sir." Nic stuck the fork in the piece of loin and held it out to the big dog, and it came and took it with a low muttering sound, wagging its tail slowly from side to side, while the collies grew excited, growled, and tossed up their heads to utter a protesting whine.
"Here, you, Nib, wait," cried Samson.