"'But wheer's t' sense o' settin' a potate at t' back-end?'
"'Thou'll not have to wait so lang to see what cooms on 't,' he replied, and then he turned on his heel an' left me standin' theer.
"Well, I reckoned it were a fooil's trick, but all t' same I put t' potate back into t' grund, an' went home. That neet it started rainin' an' it kept at it off an' on for well-nigh a week, an' I couldn't get down to my 'lotment nohow. But all t' time I couldn't tak my mind off o' t' lad that had made me bury my potate. He'd green eyes, an' I could niver get shut o' them eyes choose what I were doin'. Well, after a while it faired up, and I set off for my garden. When I gat nigh I were fair capped. I'd set t' potate at t' top-side o' t' 'lotment, and theer, just wheer I'd set it, were a pig-sty, wi' a pig inside it fit to kill. I were that flustered you could ha' knocked me down wi' a feather. I looked at t' sty, and then at t' pig, an' then I felt t' pig, an' he were reight fat. An' when I'd felt t' pig I turned round to see if t' 'lotment were fairly mine, and theer stood t' lad that had telled me to bury t' potate.
"'Well,' he says, 'is owt wrang wi' t' pig?'
"'Nay, there's nowt wrang wi' t' pig, but how did he get here?'
"'He'll happen have coom out o' that potate thou set i' t' grund last week,' and he looked at me wi' them green eyes an' started girnin'. 'But thou mun bury t' pig same as thou buried t' potate.'
"'Bury t' pig!' I said. 'I'd sooiner bury t' missus ony day. We've bin short o' ham an' collops o' bacon all t' summer, an' if there's one thing I like better nor another it's a bit o' fried ham to my tea.'
"'Nay, thou mun bury t' pig, an' do without thy bit o' bacon,' he says, and there was summat i' t' way he gave his orders that fair bet me. I went all o' a dither, while I hardly knew if I were standin' on my heels or my heead. But t' lad were as cool as a cucumber all t' while; he folded his arms an' looked at me wi' his green eyes, an' just said nowt. Eh! but 'twere gey hard to mak' up my mind what to do. I looked at t' pig, an' if iver I've seen a pig axin' to have his life spared it were yon; but then I looked at t' lad, an' his eyes were as hard as two grunstones; there was no gettin' round t' lad, I could see. So at lang length I gav' in. I killed t' pig and I buried him same as I'd buried t' potate.
"When I gat home I said nowt to t' missus about t' pig, for I couldn't let on that I'd buried it; shoo'd have reckoned I were a bigger fooil nor shoo took me for. Shoo gav me a sup o' poddish for my supper, an' all t' time I were eytin' it I kept thinkin' o' t' fried ham that I'd missed, an' I were fair mad wi' misen. I went to bed, but I couldn't get to sleep nohow. You see, I'd bin plagued wi' mowdiewarps up i' t' 'lotment; they'd scratted up my spring onions an' played Hamlet wi' my curly greens. An' then all of a sudden I bethowt me that t' mowdiewarps would be sure to find t' pig an' mak quick-sticks o' him afore t' mornin'. Eh! I gat that mad wi' thinkin' on it that I couldn't bide i' bed no longer. I gat up 'thout wakkin' t' missus, an' I crept downstairs i' my stockin' feet, an' went to t' coil-house wheer I kept my spade. I were boun to dig up t' pig an' bring him home afore t' mowdiewarps sud find him. But when I'd oppened coil-house door, what sud I see but a pair o' green eyes glowerin' at me out o' t' darkness. I were that flaid I didn't know what to do. I dursn't set hand to t' spade, an' efter a minute I crept back to bed wi' them green eyes followin' me, an' burnin' hoils i' my back same as if they'd bin two red-hot coils. Sooin as cockleet com, I gat up, dressed misen an' set off for t' 'lotment, 'an by t' Mess! what does ta reckon was t' first thing I saw?"
"Had the pig come to life again?" I asked in wonder.