ry cottage they
paused--a mere hut upon a sandy patch, standing like an island out of
the watery waste, and here he elected to stay with the rabbits which
frisked about and showed their cottony tuft tails as they darted down
into their holes.

"How about your cottage, Dave?" said the squire, shading his eyes as he
looked across the flooded fen.

"Wet," said Dave laconically.

"Yes, there are four feet of water yonder, I should say. You will have
to stop at the Toft for the present."

"Not I, mester," said the rough fellow. "I don't mind a drop o'
watter."

"Not to wade through, perhaps, my man; but you can't sleep there."

"Sleep in my boat," said Dave laconically. "Won't be the first time."

"Do as you please," said the squire quietly; and he turned to talk to
Farmer Tallington.

"I say, Dave," whispered Dick, "you're just like an old goose."

"Eh?" said the man with his eyes flashing.

"I mean being able to sleep on the water floating," said Dick, laughing,
and the angry look died out.

It was plain enough that the water had sunk a good deal already, but the
farmers had to face the fact that it would be weeks before the fen was
in its old state, and that if the breach in the sea-wall were not soon
repaired, they might at any time be afflicted with a similar peril.

But notice was sent to those interested, while the farmers here and
there who held the patches of raised land round the borders of the fen
obeyed the summons, and for about a month there was busy work going on
at the sea-wall with spade and basket, clay being brought from pits
beneath the sand upon the sea-shore, carried up to the breach, and
trampled down, till at last, without further mishap, the gap in the
embankment was filled up strongly, and the place declared to be safe.

Of those who toiled hard none showed so well in the front as Dave o' the
'Coy, and John Warren, and the squire was not stinted in his praise one
day toward the end of the task.

"Wuck hard, mester!" said Dave. "Enough to mak' a man wuck. John
Warren here don't want all his rabbits weshed away; and how am I to
manage my 'coy if it's all under watter."

"Ah, how indeed!" said the squire, and he went away; but Dick stayed
behind with Tom Tallington, and sat upon the top of the embankment,
laughing, till the rough fen-man stood resting on his spade.

"Now then, what are yow gimbling [grinning] at, young mester?" he said.

"At yow, Dave," said Dick, imitating hi