Either Dorothy's arguments were convincing or Mrs. Chester had repented her retreat, thus leaving her more inexperienced husband to the mercy of possibly unscrupulous traders, for she promptly reappeared in the dooryard and announced:
"We will buy just what we advertised for: one cow, one horse, one pig. We will examine the pigs first, and in order, with lowest price stated at once. We will not dicker at all, but will buy as cheaply as we can. Now, begin."
The little woman had placed herself upon the doorstep, with an air of practical business which caused her husband to silently clap his hands and as silently applaud; nodding his head and saying, by his expression:
"Good enough, madam! Couldn't have done better if you'd been in continual practice!"
The only difficulty of the proceeding was that each "pig-man" had grown weary of waiting and now crowded to the fore, intent upon selling his pig before another had a chance. Result: seven specimens of swine, in varying degrees of fatness, were forced into the inclosure; where each immediately proceeded to entangle himself with his neighbor and to run in a direction diametrically opposed to his owner's will.
"Oh! how glad I am our flower beds haven't been made yet!" cried Dorothy, flying up the outside stairs of the cottage, where she felt quite safe, although one inquisitive porker did plant its fore-legs on the lower step, intent to follow. Thence it was jerked back by its owner, with the remark:
"Drat a hog, anyhow! They're plaguyest critters to drive of any that lives. Next time I have a pig to sell I'll do it on my own premises—or not at all!"
In mercy to the animals and to their owners Mrs. Chester made a quick selection and one that others, wiser than herself, knew to be a fortunate one. Her choice fell upon a half-grown creature, whose body had received a good scrubbing before being taken to Skyrie, and whose skin looked pink and clean beneath its white bristles. She was asked a larger price than was quite just, as all the other dealers knew, but as all likewise considered "city folks" legitimate prey nobody enlightened her, and she handed out the money at once; merely requesting its late owner to take the animal to the corner of the old barn and securely fasten it there.
Then there followed what father John remarked was "quite a lull in the hog market," and Dorothy begged:
"Let's buy the cow next! There's a lovely one yonder! A soft, fat, écru-colored one, with the cutest little calf tied to it! Oh! do let's have the calf any way even if we don't the cow. It's a perfectly adorable little thing! see how it cocks its head and kicks up its heels—the sweet!"