“I say it is a dog!” says the priest.
“I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob.
“I say it is a dog!” says the priest.
“I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob.
Just then who should come along but the provost, with his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth, looking as high and mighty as though he owned all of that town and the sun and the moon into the bargain.
“Look, friend,” says the priest. “We have been saying so and so and so and so, just now. Will you tell me, is that a pig, or is it a dog?”
“Prut!” says the provost, “how you talk, neighbor! Do you take me for a fool I should like to know? Why, it is as plain as the nose on your face that it is a great, fat dog.”
“I say it is a pig!” bawled Master Jacob.
“I say it is a dog!” says the provost.
“I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob.