might warn the cruisers of his whereabouts. This arranged, and the caps
being again tied on, they recommence the game with renewed spirit. One
man ignobly raised his helmet, _alias_ nose-bag, to see where the small
hog was keeping himself, and then made a rush for him, whereupon one of
three umpires, a very lean man with nervous twitches, rushed at the man
in a great state of excitement, and collared him amid the disapproving
shouts of the spectators; he let him go upon this, and the other two
umpires, who were fat men, jumping into the cistern to take away their
lean brother, received several violent blows on the road, finally
leading away the thin man in a high state of twitches, communicating
themselves to his stove-pipe hat, (only one on the ground,) and to a
large cane he tried to hold. A lucky blow from one of the gamesters
struck the hog, and there was a cessation of hitting, interrupted by an
outside _contadino_ of the tight-built style breaking through the
gendarmes and umpires and jumping into the middle of the cistern,
beginning a fearful battle of words with the man who hit the hog,
interrupted, however, by two of the gendarmes, who collared him and led
him off up the steps, his legs very stiff, his body at an angle of
forty-five degrees, and his head turned round to give a few last fierce
words to the hog-hitter. The man would have made a good bandit, on
canvas, with his bronzed, bearded face, flashing eyes, conical hat,
savage features, broad shirt-collar, red sash around his waist, and
leather gaiters, showing he rode horses and came from down in the plain.

The game recommenced, and by good luck the broom-swinger who hit the hog
the first blow, hit him twice more; and the regulation being that
whoever first struck the hog three blows should win him, the successful
hog-hunter bore off the small hog on his back, having at the same time
to carry the standard above described. The cheers of beauty and ugliness
accompanied the hog and standard-bearer, as jerking down his head the
umpire pulled off his head-bag, showing the face of Bruno, the butcher,
who kept a bull-dog. A great many friends surrounded him, patting him on
the back--_he had a hog to be eaten!_

So ended the Game of the Small-Hog.

After this was all over, a Tombola came off in front of the church, and
our three artists having purchased tickets for this Sunday lottery, in
order to keep the day as the rest of the people did, and not render
them