One day as he sat “making pigs” for one after another of the group of children round him, a pig of especial humor having drawn a murmur of delight from the circle, this murmur was dismally echoed by a sob from a little maid on the outside of the group. It was Master Chuter’s little daughter, a pretty child, with an oval, dainty-featured face, and a prim gentleness about her, like a good little girl in a good little story. The intervening young rustics began to nudge each other and look back at her. “Kitty Chuter be crying!” they whispered. “What be amiss with ’ee, then, Kitty Chuter?” said Jan, looking up from his work; and the question was passed on with some impatience, as her tears prevented her reply. “What be amiss with ’ee?” “Janny Lake have never made a pig for I,” sobbed the little maid, with her head dolefully inclined to her left shoulder, and her oval face pulled to a doubly pensive length. “I axed my vather to let me get him a posy, and a said I might. And I got un some vine Bloody Warriors, and a heap of Boy’s Love off our big bush, that smelled beautiful. And vather says a can have some water-blobs off our pond when they blows. But Tommy Green met I as a was coming down to school, and a snatched my vlowers from me, and I begged un to let me keep some of un, and a only laughed at me. And I daren’t go back, for I was late; and now I’ve nothin’ to give Janny Lake to make a draft of a pig for I.” And, having held up for the telling of her tale, the little maid broke down in fresh tears. Jan finished off the tail of the pig he was drawing with a squeak of the pencil that might have come from the pig itself and, stuffing the slate into its owner’s hands, he ran up to Kitty Chuter and kissed her wet cheeks, saying, “Give I thee slate, Kitty Chuter, and I’ll make thee the best pig of all. I don’t want nothing from thee for ’t. And when school’s done, I’ll whop Tommy Green, if I sees him.” And forthwith, without looking from the door for studies, Jan drew a fat sow with her little ones about her; the other children clustering round to peep, and crying, “He’ve made Kitty Chuter one, two, three, vour, _vive_ pigs!” “Ah, and there be two more you can’t see, because the old un be lying on ’em,” said Jan. “Six, seven!” William counted; and he assisted the calculation by sticking up first a thumb and then a forefinger as he spoke. Some who had not thought half a ball of string, or a dozen nails as good as new, too much to pay for a single pig drawn on one side of their slates, and only lasting as long as they could contrive to keep the other side in use without quite smudging that one, were now disposed to be dissatisfied with their bargains. But as the school broke up, and Tom Green was seen loitering on the other side of the road, every thing was forgotten in the general desire to see Jan carry out his threat, and “whop” a boy bigger than himself for bullying a little girl.