"That's a matter of better than two miles. Have 'ee thought of the wear and tear and the loss of good lard? No, Uncle Billy, I won't fly against the will of Heaven. If pigs had been meant to go for walks they'd have had legs according. Their legs hain't for walking; they'm for hams." Uncle Billy drew near and explained. Farmer Dodge grinned. "To do down your missus? Well, I like a jest as well as any, and to put females in their place is meat and taties to me; but 'tis a luxury, and luxury is what you like but can do without." In the end Uncle Billy drove a bargain by which he secured the use of six pigs for a few hours and paid three shillings per pig. For three-and-six he also hired the help of a boy to drive them; as he remarked, he could have had more than another pig for that money, but it would be warm work for him alone. The inhabitants of the houses on the terrace of the little sea-side town where the Pugsleys lived were thrilled at noon by the arrival of a small herd of swine. The animals looked rather tired but settled down contentedly in the front-garden of No. 3. Mrs. Pugsley, hearing their voices, came to the door. "Why, Willum, I was just making ready to come out with you to go and see them." "My tender dear," he said with emotion, "would I let you be taken miles in this heat to see the finest pigs ever littered? No. 'Tis not for my wife to go to see pigs, 'tis for pigs to come to see my wife. Here they be. That's Spion Kop, the big black one--called because 'tis the highest mountain in America and he's to make the highest price. The pink one is Square Measure, for he'll eat his own size in meal any day. That's Diadem--no, it's not; Diadem lost--I should say Diadem's lost to us." Uncle Billy lifted his hat reverently. "The ginger one is Comrade--a fine name." "Why, 'tis a little sow." "And what better comrade than a blessed female, my loving dear, and who'd know that better than me?" "Don't you go mixing me up with the pigs, Willum; I won't have it. What's the name of that perky black one?" "Mount Royal," said Uncle Billy. "I'm a KING'S man and like to respect they set over me. Royal just means one of the KING'S family." The parade was dismissed; the herd returned to its home and Uncle Billy paid the cost of wear and tear. He sat smoking that evening in a state of blissful content. All had gone well; the dreaded black moment was over. Mrs. Pugsley knitted furiously in silence. "Now what might you be turning over in that mind of yours?" asked Uncle Billy. "Pigs." "Couldn't do better." "And their names. Maybe you won't christen any more until after the Cesarewitch." She folded up her knitting and went to bed, leaving Uncle Billy as if turned to stone. When he recovered he sought out Uncle Eli and said:-- "Eli, she's known all along. She knowed when I was driving they brasted pigs here in the heat. She's never been took in at all. And that's a woman. That's what married me."