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The story current in the marshlands was that an awful crime had been committed there long ago, and the spirits of men who had been murdered kept guard there night and day. They said these were invisible to human eyes, but were clearly seen by the poor frightened beasts. Later on the quaking bog over which that road was made gave up its secret, but that was after Denzil had grown to manhood, and had left his marshland home for good.

We say little here about Den's everyday work, to which he had to go after a year or two of pleasant school life under the kindly old master. He worked, like his father, in his kinsman's business, or, at any rate, in a similar employment; but his working hours do not affect this history. As I said before, his father chafed and fretted because Den did not give his whole heart to the work by which his bread was earned. He frowned anxiously at the boy as he sat drawing at night in a quiet corner; but he could not change the bent of the boy's mind, nor could he influence him during those hours of leisure, which even the sternest taskmaster must allow.

Denzil early made up his mind as to the course he intended to pursue, and nothing moved him from

it. That branch of their business that fell to his lot he would master thoroughly, so that he might not be open to rebuke or censure in it. But the hours of work over, he would do as he pleased with his time; and all his nature went out to the wild life of the flats and along shore.

And so he grew up, reserved and unyielding on the one hand, yet devoted to the creatures outside, attached to the fishing folk, with whom he was bound by ties of blood on his mother's side, and related by these, as well as by the closest friendship, to his cousin Larry.

CHAPTER XV.

HARD TIMES ALONG SHORE.

WHEN the boats had come up the creek and were moored at the quay, if Den was free he would jump on board to see if there was any little curiosity for him there, in the shape of fish or bird. He rarely went home empty-handed; gulls, for instance, can be caught with hook and line far more easily than pike, and, unlike pike, at any time. He never tired of hearing the fishermen's yarns about the great, savage dog-fish, the British sharks, they termed him; how the ferocious brutes snapped and fought when they were captured. As they lay in the bottom of the boats they lashed about and bit in all directions at their captors and at each other. The larger ones would fix on the men's sea-boots as they

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moved about the boat, or hang on to their oilskin fishing-coats like bulldogs. The bite of a fish of their sort is not a laughing matter.

These dog-fish frequented parts of the best fishinggrounds. Some portions they avoided altogether, in other parts they abounded at certain seasons. Now and again the men would go out solely to catch dog-fish,-to clear them off a bit, they would say. At such times they caught boat-loads, and sold them somewhere farther down the coast, reserving just a few for their own and their neighbours' consumption. You could get a monster for a couple of shillings; skate also. We remember one of our friends buying a splendid skate, weighing thirty pounds, for eighteenpence, and the fisherman who sold it thought himself well paid.

Dog-fish are excellent eating; a cut out of the middle of one is considered by many as good as the best lobster ever eaten. They ought to be good, for they live themselves on soles, plaice, and flounders.

The gulls were objects of study to the boy at all times, in sunshine and in storm, from the shore as well as from the fishing - boats, when the men would take him with them, stowed away safely and

snugly in the bow or stern, as the case might be, where he could see all. The actions of the birds are very different as they flap up and down along the coast-line at the different seasons, their movements being regulated by the food they are in quest of. Wide awake they always are, but especially when the large shoals of fish make the surface of the sea ripple as they swim near the shores. The greatest portion of the fish is captured within comparatively short distance of land, though out of sight of it. Then the gulls would follow the boats as they showed in open water, gathering in one vast flock, flapping wings above, below, and alongside, clacking and screaming hoarsely. Den was happy then, watching the gulls dash down on the fish as these rippled up. When the nets were shot they continued the same sportive tactics, wheeling, flapping, and dipping in all directions about the boats. But the best time to see the real nature of the birds, from the fierce black-backed to the common gull, was when the nets were hauled. As these showed above water the gulls dashed down on the glittering captives held in the meshes, tearing, biting, and gobbling like so many feathered furies. At times, to his great joy,

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