"Fizz, fiz-z-z, fiz-z-z," hissed the fritters.
"Aren't they going to be good!" said Romeo Augustus, smacking his lips.
Suddenly came a voice. It was Romeo Augustus's father speaking to the man-servant:
"Those little pigs are large enough to be killed. How many are there? Never mind. Carry them all to market to-morrow, and sell them for what they will bring. I don't want the trouble of raising them."
Romeo Augustus listened in horror. "Large enough to be killed?" "Carry them all to market?" "All? All?" Why, that included Mephibosheth. Terrible thought!
Not a fritter did Romeo Augustus eat that morning. After breakfast he roamed aimlessly about the farm. He would not go near the barn. How could he look upon poor doomed Mephibosheth?
Once he thought of going to his father, and pleading with him for his pig's life. But Romeo Augustus was shy, and somewhat afraid of his father, who was a stern man. So he kept his grief to himself, and meditated.
Elias unconsciously deserted him at this time of need, and curdled Romeo Augustus's blood by asking twice for pork at dinner. Ask for pork? Why, speaking coarsely, Mephibosheth was also—pork. How could any one eat pork with such a relish? Romeo Augustus shivered, and kept his own counsel. All that afternoon he pondered. Then the darkness of night came on.
The next morning off started the man-servant with his load of little pigs.
"Have you all?" asked Romeo Augustus's father.