PIGS.
"Pigs pays," said Mrs. Pugsley.
"So I have heard."
"Pigs always pays; but Pugsley's pigs pays prodigious."
I rejoiced with her.
"Took 'em up sudden, he did; and now that interested! You'd never think that pigs 'ld twine themselves round a man's heart, so to speak, would you?"
"No."
"That's how it is with Willum. Reads nothing but about pigs; they'm his only joy. In partnership with Uncle Eli over them. First time Uncle Eli took to anything wholesome in his life. When Willum loses a pig he's that low that he puts on a black tie. Wonnerful!"
It was. I knew Willum, otherwise Uncle Billy, and something about his tastes. I had the pleasure of meeting him on the foreshore that afternoon. No doubt he was studying pigs; but the title of the book he had in his hand was Form at a Glance.
"Pig form, I presume," said I politely.
"Now then, Missie, don't go giving me away. All's lovely at home. Me and Uncle Eli has clubbed together to buy Bodger's racing tips. Bodger's got brain. Doing very well, we are. Sure, I can't tell the missus, and she a Plymouth Rock."
"Isn't it Plymouth Sister?"
"Maybe; but I think there's a rock in it somewhere. Anyway we agreed when we married to keep our purses in the same drawer, and mine's bulging."
"You are a brave man, Uncle Billy. What about the day she will want to see your pigs?"
"A thought that wakes me at night. We keep 'em out in the country, I'd have you know. There, why take a fence before you come to it? There'll be wisdom given."
Apparently there was, but the address from which the wisdom came was indistinct.
"Willum," said Mrs. Pugsley one day, "to-morrow I'm coming to see they pigs of yours; bless their fat sides!"
"You shall, my tender dear," said Uncle Billy. "Yes, to-morrow noon you'll see the blessed things."
Almost at dawn he presented himself at Farmer Dodge's and astonished that good man by asking to be allowed to hire a few pigs for the day.
Farmer Dodge scratched his head.
"Well, I've been asked to loan out most things in my time, but never pigs before. Where be taking them?"
"Home."
"That's a matter of better than two miles. Have 'ee thought of the wear and tear and the loss of good lard? No, Uncle Billy, I won't fly against the will of Heaven. If pigs had been meant to go for walks they'd have had legs according. Their legs hain't for walking; they'm for hams."
Uncle Billy drew near and explained. Farmer Dodge grinned.
"To do down your missus? Well, I like a jest as well as any, and to put females in their place is meat and taties to me; but 'tis a luxury, and luxury is what you like but can do without."
In the end Uncle Billy drove a bargain by which he secured the use of six pigs for a few hours and paid three shillings per pig. For three-and-six he also hired the help of a boy to drive them; as he remarked, he could have had more than another pig for that money, but it would be warm work for him alone.
The inhabitants of the houses on the terrace of the little sea-side town where the Pugsleys lived were thrilled at noon by the arrival of a small herd of swine. The animals looked rather tired but settled down contentedly in the front-garden of No. 3.
Mrs. Pugsley, hearing their voices, came to the door.
"Why, Willum, I was just making ready to come out with you to go and see them."
"My tender dear," he said with emotion, "would I let you be taken miles in this heat to see the finest pigs ever littered? No. 'Tis not for my wife to go to see pigs, 'tis for pigs to come to see my wife. Here they be. That's Spion Kop, the big black one—called because 'tis the highest mountain in America and he's to make the highest price. The pink one is Square Measure, for he'll eat his own size in meal any day. That's Diadem—no, it's not; Diadem lost—I should say Diadem's lost to us." Uncle Billy lifted his hat reverently. "The ginger one is Comrade—a fine name."
"Why, 'tis a little sow."
"And what better comrade than a blessed female, my loving dear, and who'd know that better than me?"
"Don't you go mixing me up with the pigs, Willum; I won't have it. What's the name of that perky black one?"
"Mount Royal," said Uncle Billy. "I'm a King's man and like to respect they set over me. Royal just means one of the King's family."
The parade was dismissed; the herd returned to its home and Uncle Billy paid the cost of wear and tear.
He sat smoking that evening in a state of blissful content. All had gone well; the dreaded black moment was over. Mrs. Pugsley knitted furiously in silence.
"Now what might you be turning over in that mind of yours?" asked Uncle Billy.
"Pigs."
"Couldn't do better."
"And their names. Maybe you won't christen any more until after the Cesarewitch."
She folded up her knitting and went to bed, leaving Uncle Billy as if turned to stone. When he recovered he sought out Uncle Eli and said:—
"Eli, she's known all along. She knowed when I was driving they brasted pigs here in the heat. She's never been took in at all. And that's a woman. That's what married me."
Bridegroom (twenty minutes late, excitedly, to Verger). "Don't tell me the thing's over."
"It would be wrong to enter upon political questions in these pages, but there can be no harm in suggesting that prayer should be made as much for our rulers at Westminster as for people in Ireland. The Collect, with certain alterations, for Those at Sea would seem especially suitable."—Exeter Diocesan Gazette.
Very neatly and clerically put.
Smith (member of bowling club). "Do you know these balls cost five guineas each?"
Jones (golfer). "By Jove! I hope you don't lose many in the 'rough.'"