no more thee sha'n't. I
beant gwine to breed Chichster pigs for such as thee at thy own price,
nuther." Snooks grinned and went on his way, saying;

"I bought un and I'll 'ave un."

"An I'll 'ave thee, dang'd if I doant, afore jussices; t' Squoire'll tell
thee."

"I doant keer for t' Squire no more nor I do for thee, old Bumpkin; thee
be a cunnin' man, but thee sold I t' pig and I'll 'ave un, and I got un
too: haw! haw! haw! an thee got t' money--nine-and-six--haw! haw! haw!"

Mr. Bumpkin by this time came up to him, but was so much out of breath,
or "winded," that he was unable to carry on the conversation, so he just
tapped the bag with his stick as if to be certain the pig was there, and
sure enough it was, if you might judge by the extraordinary wriggling
that went on inside the bag.

The indomitable Snooks, however, with the largest and most hideous grin I
ever saw, pushed on with his barrow, and Mr. Bumpkin having now
sufficiently recovered his breath, said,

"Thee see ur tak un, didn't thee, Joe?"

"Sure did ur," answered the lad. "I seed un took un clane out o' the
stye, and put un in the sack, and wheeled un away."

"Ha! so ur did, Joe; stick to that, lad--stick to un."

"And thee seed I pay th' money for un, Joe, didn't thee?" laughed Snooks.
"Seed I put un on t' poast, and thee took un oop--haw! haw! haw! I got
t' pig and thee got t' money--haw! haw! haw! Thee thowt thee'd done I,
and I done thee--haw! haw! haw!"

And away went Snooks and away went pig; but Snooks' laugh remained, and
every now and then Snooks turned his head and showed his large yellow
teeth and roared again.

The rage of Mr. Bumpkin knew no bounds. There are some things in life
which are utterly unendurable; and one is the having your pig taken from
you against your will and without your consent--an act which would be
described legally as _the rape of the pig_. This offence, in Mr.
Bumpkin's judgment, Snooks was guilty of; and therefore he resolved to do
that which is considered usually a wise thing, namely, to consult a
solicitor.

Now, if I were giving advice--which I do not presume to do--I should say
that in all matters of difficulty a man should consult his wife, his
priest, or his solicitor, and in the order in which I have named them.
In the event of consulting a solicitor the next important question
arises, "What solicitor?" I could write a book on this subject. There
are numerous solicitors, within my acqua