l pools and fishing places,
and instead of having beds of reeds full of birds, for there to be
nothing but fields and a great ugly drain. Why, the flowers, and
butterflies, and nesting places will all be swept away. What do we care
for fields of corn!"

"My father cares for them, and he says it will be the making of this
part of the country."

"Unmaking, he means," said Dick; and they went on to watch the
proceedings of the strange men who had come--big, strong,
good-tempered-looking fellows, armed with sharp cutting spades, and for
whose use the lads found that a brig had come into the little river, and
was landing barrows, planks, and baskets, with a variety of other
articles to be used in the making of the drain.

"I'm afraid we shall have some trouble over this business, Tallington,"
said the squire as they went back.

"Well, we sha'n't be the only sufferers," said the farmer
good-humouredly. "I suppose all we who have adventured our few pounds
will be in the people's black books. But we must go on--we can't stop
now."

The next day Tom came over, and the lads went down towards the
far-stretching fen, now once more losing a great deal of the water of
the flood.

They passed the Solemn one apparently none the worse for his bath, for
he trotted away from the gate to thrust his head in the favourite corner
by the old corbel in the wall, and look back at them, as if as ready to
kick as ever.

"Poor old Solomon!" said Dick laughing, "I should have been sorry if he
had been lost."

"Oh, never mind him," cried Tom; "is old Dave coming over to fetch us?
Why, Dick, look!"

"I can't see anything," said Dick.

"Because you're not looking the right way. There! Now he's behind that
bed of reeds a mile away."

"I see!" cried Dick. "Why, it is Dave, and he's coming."

The lads ran down to the edge of the fen, and made their way to the end
of a long, open, river-like stretch of water, which was now perfectly
clear, so that everything could be clearly distinguished at the bottom;
and before long, as they walked to and fro, they caught sight of a
little shoal of small fish, and soon after of a young pike, with his
protruding lower jaw, waiting for his opportunity to make a dash at some
unfortunate rudd, whose orange fins and faintly-gilded sides made him a
delectable-looking morsel for his olive-green and gold excellency the
tyrant of the river.

"He's coming here, isn't he?" said Tom, gazing out anxiously o