"When I gat home I said nowt to t' missus about t' pig, for I couldn't let on that I'd buried it; shoo'd have reckoned I were a bigger fooil nor shoo took me for. Shoo gav me a sup o' poddish for my supper, an' all t' time I were eytin' it I kept thinkin' o' t' fried ham that I'd missed, an' I were fair mad wi' misen. I went to bed, but I couldn't get to sleep nohow. You see, I'd bin plagued wi' mowdiewarps up i' t' 'lotment; they'd scratted up my spring onions an' played Hamlet wi' my curly greens. An' then all of a sudden I bethowt me that t' mowdiewarps would be sure to find t' pig an' mak quick-sticks o' him afore t' mornin'. Eh! I gat that mad wi' thinkin' on it that I couldn't bide i' bed no longer. I gat up 'thout wakkin' t' missus, an' I crept downstairs i' my stockin' feet, an' went to t' coil-house wheer I kept my spade. I were boun to dig up t' pig an' bring him home afore t' mowdiewarps sud find him. But when I'd oppened coil-house door, what sud I see but a pair o' green eyes glowerin' at me out o' t' darkness. I were that flaid I didn't know what to do. I dursn't set hand to t' spade, an' efter a minute I crept back to bed wi' them green eyes followin' me, an' burnin' hoils i' my back same as if they'd bin two red-hot coils. Sooin as cockleet com, I gat up, dressed misen an' set off for t' 'lotment, 'an by t' Mess! what does ta reckon was t' first thing I saw?" "Had the pig come to life again?" I asked in wonder. "Nay, 'twere better nor that," replied Abe. "I' t' spot wheer I'd buried t' pig an' buried t' potate afore that, somebody had belt a house, ay, an' belt it all i' one neet. It had sprung up like a mushroom. So I went up to t' house an' looked in at t' windey, an' by Gow! but it were my house an' all." "How did you know that it was your house?" I asked. "Well, you see," Abe rejoined, "I could tell by t' furnitur that were in it. There was our kitchen-table that I'd bowt at t' sale when t' missus an' me were wed, an' t'owd rockin'-chair set agean t' fire; ay, an' t' pot-dogs on t' chimley-piece an' my father's an' muther's buryin'-cards framed on t' walls; 'twere all plain as life." "So the lad with the green eyes had carried away your house in the night and set it down on your allotment?"