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Everything 'most is cruel; but if they wasn't the world would get so full that everything would starve. We've got say fourscore pie-wipes not for fun, but for wittles and what's fourscore when there's thousands upon thousands all about?" "Why, Dave, you're a philosopher!" said Dick, who felt relieved.
"And do the people about seem as dissatisfied as ever about the work?" said Mrs Winthorpe. "I don't hear much about it," said the squire. "They'll soon settle down to it when they find how things are improved. Well, Dick, plenty of sport to-day?" "Dave got plenty of pie-wipes' eggs, father. I didn't find many." "Got enough to give Mr Marston a few?" "Oh, yes, plenty for that!
They had been waiting a couple of hours, and the peewit's cry had been uttered from time to time, but only a straggler or two had landed upon the strip of land. Dick had been eager to capture these, but Dave shook his head. It wasn't worth while to set the net and peg out decoys and stales, he said, to catch two pie-wipes that weren't enough for a man's dinner.
"You come and see me next spring, my lads, and I'll show you where there's more pie-wipes' eggs than ever you found before in your lives." "But you'll take us one day to the 'coy, Dave?" said Dick. "Nay, I don't think I can," said Dave. "But it's my father's 'coy," said Dick. "Ay, I know all about that," said the man harshly; "but it wean't be much good to him if he dree-erns the fen."
"Nay, you wouldn't try to hit 'em, lad, because you thought you'd hot 'em," said Dave, chuckling; and Tom laughed, while Dick sat and nursed the gun in silence, till the punt was poled ashore and its contents landed. "Now," said Dave, "I've got a rabbud-pie as I made mysen. Come and hev a bit, lads; and then you shall take home a dozen pie-wipes apiece.
Dave, who was rapidly freeing his decoy-birds and transferring them to the cage, stood up with a fluttering plover in one hand. "Cruel!" he cried. "Yes, and treacherous," replied Dick. "Deal more cruel for me to be found starved to death in my place some day," said Dave. "Pie-wipes eats the beedles and wains, don't they? Well, we eats the pie-wipes, or sells 'em, and buys flour and bacon.
"Niver mind, I may get a few perhaps wi' my net. Now, then, never mind the pie-wipes; let's wipe that theer pie." He rapidly thrust the boat along till it was close to the side of the mere, where he anchored it with his pole and then leaned over and washed his hands, which he dried upon a piece of rag. "Are your hands fishy, Tom?" said Dick. "No I washed them." "Well, then, cut some bread."
Shall I carry the birds down to the boat?" "Nay; we wean't take them to-day. I've sin more pie-wipes than ruffs, so let's try for them."
"What have you got, Dave?" cried Dick, laying hold of the bunch of birds, and turning them over, so as to examine their heads and feet; and, without waiting for an answer, he went on "Three curlews, two pie-wipes, and a and a I say, Tom, what's this?"
Many a tramp over the sodden ground did the lads have with Dave, who generally waited for their coming, leaping-pole in hand, and then took them to the peewits' haunts to gather a basketful of their eggs. "I don't know how you do it, Dave," said Dick. "We go and hunt for hours, and only get a few pie-wipes' eggs; you always get a basketful." "It's a man's natur," said Dave.
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