A SURREY RIVER. 127 



was excited — and he was that pretty often — his stub- 

 bly moustache bristled up fiercely. One eye squinted 

 strongly ; and if you happened to see Dickey with a 

 big fish in his hand you would not forget it — that 

 squint, I mean. 



A comical figure altogether was Dickey. He wore 

 a long, brown, weather-stained coat, faded so much 

 that in colour it resembled the plumage of the brown 

 owl : when out fishing and near any tree-trunk, it was 

 a very difficult matter to distinguish Dickey. 



" Come on, Dickey," said Soldier Will ; whereupon 

 Dickey put up his fish in his flag-basket without a 

 word, and walked along beside us. Presently he ob- 

 served, " Got some big uns ; some on 'em like a pair 

 of bellows." 



" And who is going to eat 'em, now you've caught 

 'em, Dickey ? " 



" Somebody'll eat 'em, but not me. Soldier," he 

 answered, looking up with a grin. Bream are not 

 very desirable fish for the table. 



All the farmers along the river-sides gave this pair 

 leave to fish, with one exception. This was Old Crab- 

 apple, as we called him. He never fished himself, 

 however, so they fished without his leave, and were 



