ot give," protested Mistress Boris. "I
shan't give it up for all the gypsies in the world. My little tame
sucking pig which I brought up on milk and breadcrumbs. They shan't
touch that. I won't give up that!"

"It is enough if I give it," said Sarvoelgyi, harshly.

"What, you will make a present of it? Didn't you present me with it in
its young days, when it was the size of a fist? And now you want to take
it back?"

"Don't make a noise. I'll give you two of the same size in place of it."

"I don't want any larger one, or any other one: I am no trader. I want
my own sucking pig; I won't give it up for a whole herd,--the little one
I brought up myself on milk and bread-crumbs! It is so accustomed to me
now that it always answers my call, and pulls at my apron: it plays
with me. As clever, as a child, for all the world as if it were no pig
at all, but a human being."

Mistress Borcsa burst into tears. She always had her pet animals, after
the fashion of old servants, who, being on good terms with nobody in the
world, tame some hen or other animal set aside for eating purposes, and
defend its life cleverly and craftily; not allowing it to be killed;
until finally the merciless master passes the sentence that the favorite
too must be killed. How they weep then! The poor, old maid-servants
cannot touch a morsel of it.

"Stop whining, Borcsa!" roared Sarvoelgyi, frowning. "You will do what I
order. The pig must be caught and given to Marcsa."

The pig, unsuspicious of danger, was wandering about in the courtyard.

"Well, _I_ shall not catch it," whimpered Mistress Boris.

"Marcsa'll do that."

The gypsy woman did not wait to be told a second time: but, at once
taking a basket off her arms, squatted down and began to shake the
basket, uttering some such enticing words as "_Pocza, poczo, net, net!_"

Nor was Mistress Borcsa idle: as soon as she remarked this device, she
commenced the counteracting spell. "Shoo! Shoo!"--and with her pan and
cooking-spoon she tried to frighten her _protege_ away from the vicinity
of the castle, despite the stamping protests of Sarvoelgyi, who saw open
rebellion in this disregard for his commands.

Then the two old women commenced to drive the pig up and down the yard,
the one enticing, the other "shooing," and creating a delightful uproar.

But, such is the ingratitude of adopted pigs! The foolish animal,
instead of listening to its benefactor's words and flying for protection
amon