“Come,” he said, pulling her gently, “come and look here.”
He led her to the hearth, and pointed speechless to something which looked like a small flannel bundle in a basket. As she looked at it, it moved a little.
“Well, Davie,” said she, “what is this wonderful thing? Something alive?”
David had knelt down close to the bundle and was peering in between the folds of the flannel with an expression of reverent awe. He looked up gravely.
“Don’t you see,” he said slowly in lowered accents, “it’s a little baby pig!”
Stooping down Miss Grey examined it more closely, and found that it was indeed a little black pig of very tender age, so closely covered up in flannel that only its small pointed snout and one eye were visible.
“Do you suppose it’s ill?” inquired David.
“I daresay it is,” answered Miss Grey; “we’ll ask Mrs Hatchard about it presently.”
The other children had gathered round, all more or less interested in the invalid pig; but presently, Pennie having suggested that they should go and see the new little calf, they ran out of the kitchen in search of fresh excitement.
“Come along, Davie,” said Ambrose, looking back from the door; “come out and see the other pigs.”