"I suppose, about as usual," said Mrs. Armadale.
"I forget how much that is; I can't keep it in my head from one year to another. Besides, I didn't know but you'd want an extra quantity, if your family was goin' to be larger."
"It is not going to be larger, as I know."
"If my pork ain't, I shall come short home. It beats me! I've fed 'em just the same as usual,—and the corn's every bit as good as usual, never better; good big fat yellow ears, that had ought to make a porker's heart dance for joy; and I should think they were sufferin' from continual lowness o' spirits, to judge by the way they don't get fat. They're growing real long-legged and slab-sided—just the way I hate to see pigs look. I don' know what's the matter with 'em."
"Where do you keep 'em?"
"Under the barn—just where they always be. Well, you've had a visitor?"
"Mrs. Barclay has."
"I understood 'twas her company; but you saw him?"
"We saw him as much as she did," put in Charity.
"What's he like?"