But the manner in which two or three old ladies flourished their sticks in the faces of our wan friend and his companion, betokened, I thought, anything but bodily fear. Still, the whole affair was a mystery; and when the crowd stopped short before our doors, and every dark visage, in which anger and supplication were strangely mingled, was turned towards us, each individual vociferating the while, at the top of his voice, we were puzzled beyond measure. “Death to the English!” was about all we could gather, until the wan policeman came up and explained, under a torrent of vituperation, that he and his companion were merely carrying into effect a wholesome regulation which Her Majesty’s Consul General had promulgated, to the effect that the inhabitants of San Juan (which he called Greytown) should no longer allow the pigs and poultry to roam at large, but should keep them securely “cooped and penned,” under penalty of having them shot by Her Majesty’s servants; and as the aforesaid pigs and poultry had roamed at their will since the time “the memory of man runneth not back thereto,” and as there were neither coops nor pens, it was very clear that the wholesome regulation could be but partially complied with. A stout mulatto, behind the policeman, carried a pig and several fowls, which had evidently met a recent and violent end; and we had strong misgivings as to the manner in which the various small porkers and chickens which we had encountered at the consul’s table had been procured. The pale policeman grew pathetic, and was almost moved to tears when he said that, while in the performance of his duty, he was assailed as we saw, and that all his explanations were unregarded, and he was disposed to do as his companions had done—run away, and leave the town to the dominion of the pigs and chickens. The crowd, which had been comparatively quiet during this recital, now broke out in reply, and gathering countenance from the presence of the Americans, fairly hustled the policemen into the middle of the street, and might have treated them to a cold bath in the harbor, had they not been recalled by the voice of the Viscomte, who mounted a block and declaimed furiously, in mingled Spanish and French, against the “perfidious English,” and talked of natural and municipal rights in a strain quite edifying, and eminently French. But as the Viscomte had been instrumental in bringing the English there, he did not get much of our sympathy. He had lost a pet pig that morning, which gave pith to his speech; and we determined to pay our particular respects to it that evening at the consul’s.