“So do I, where there is ground and money and time enough; but it would not suit me. My cabbages would not thrive if the ground was shaded; and I could not raise fruit enough, or of a sufficiently good quality, to sell to advantage.” “But it would be a great treat to the children.” “My children must wait for such a treat till we grow richer. I am thankful enough to be able to give them bread and sometimes a bit of meat, instead of the potatoes we used to live on. Apples and gooseberries will come all in good time. Bread and clothes must be thought of first.” “And yet you managed to get a pig.” “Yes. I knew, if I contrived to buy one, I could easily keep it. So we made an effort to save in the winter, and in March I got a fine pig of four months. He was able to graze and eat cabbages and turnip-tops, and we have plenty of wash for him; so I hope, as he has thriven so far very well, he will be in fine condition for killing at Christmas.” “Will you be able to fatten him liberally?” “I hope so. He shall have as much barley-meal as he can eat, if I can afford it; if not, pease must do.” “You will have a houseful of meat at that time. Bacon in plenty, griskins, chines, cheeks, and I don’t know what besides; and hog’s-puddings and lard for the children! Why, you will live like an alderman’s family for weeks. It is a fine thing to keep a pig!” “It is a great advantage; and considering that, I wonder you don’t try, neighbour.” “When I have eight children perhaps I may; but we get on somehow as it is; and I have quite enough to do, for I don’t pretend to work as hard as you.” “No,” thought Gray, “You make your wife do it instead, while you go and smoke at the Arms.”