“‘I often heard that you came of very respectable people,’ ses the hen.
“‘Respectable isn’t the name for them belonging to me. There were gentry, and no less, in our family.’
“‘Is that so?’ ses the hen.
“‘Yes, indeed, it is,’ ses the pig. ‘’Twas a piece of my great-great-great-great-grandfather’s great-grandfather that gave Napoleon indigestion before Waterloo. And that’s how he lost the day by giving wrong orders to his generals,’ ses the pig.
“‘And ’twas from eating a bad egg,’ ses the hen, ‘that King George got the hiccoughs, and fell from his horse while reviewing his troops in France. And that’s how he won the Victoria Cross and got a rise of two and tuppence a week in his wages. Howsomever, be that as it may, ’tis a pension yourself should have from the German and English Governments, instead of earning your living by eating yourself to death, so to speak. An aristocrat of your social standing should be living on some one else’s money, and your time should be divided between sleeping and eating, like all the other members of the fraternity.’
“‘Oh,’ ses the pig, ‘my associates and equals wouldn’t think of recognising me, unless I was fully dressed for dinner at some fashionable hotel or restaurant.’
“‘Fully dressed!’ ses the hen. ‘With bread crumbs on your hind quarters, you mean?’
“‘Yes,’ ses the pig.
“‘Well,’ ses the hen, ‘I come of good stock myself. The members of my family always supplied eggs to the King of Spain, the Mayor of Boston, and the Royalty of England and America.’
“‘Wisha,’ ses the pig, ‘what are a few eggs, even when they are fresh inself, compared to a fine ham, two pork chops, a soft crubeen, or a flitch of bacon, boiled down with plenty of cabbage, and set before a battalion of hungry policemen on a cold winter’s day?’