"Conscience sakes! but hain't they got a lot of pork here?" said a looker-on in Quincy Market, t'other day. "Pork!" echoes a decidedly _Green_ Mountain biped, at the elbow of the first speaker. "Yes, I vow it's quite as-_tonishing_ how much pork is sold here and _et_ up by somebody," continued the old gent. "Et up?" says the other, whose physical structure somewhat resembled a fat lath, and whose general _contour_ made it self-evident that _he_ was not given much to frivolity, jauntily-fitting coats and breeches, or perfumed and "fixed up" barberality extravagance. "Et up!" he thoughtfully and earnestly repeated, as his hands rested in the cavity of his trousers pockets, and his eyes rested upon the first speaker. "You wern't never in Cincinnatty, _I_ guess?" "No, I never was," says the old gent. "Never was? Well, I cal'lated not. Never been _in_ a Pork-haouse?" "Never, unless you may call this a Pork-house?" "The-is? Pork-haouse?" says Yankee. "Well, I reckon not--don't begin--'tain't nothin' like--not a speck in a puddle to a Pork-haouse--a Cincinnatty Pork-haouse!" "I've hearn that they carry on the Pork business pooty stiff, out there," says the old gentleman. "Pooty stiff? Good gravy, but don't they? 'Pears to me, I knew yeou somewhere?" says our Yankee. "You might," cautiously answers the old gent. "'Tain't 'Squire Smith, of Maoun-Peelier?" "N'no, my name's Johnson, sir." "Johnson? Oh, in the tin business?" "Oh, no, I'm not _in_ business, at all, sir," was the reply. "Not? Oh,"--thoughtfully echoes Yankee. "Wall, no matter, I thought p'raps yeou were from up aour way--I'm from near Maoun-Peelier--State of Varmount." "Ah, indeed?" "Ya-a-s." "Fine country, I'm told?" says the old gent. "Ye-a-a-s, 'tis;"--was the abstracted response of Yankee, who seemed to be revolving something in his own mind. "Raise a great deal of wool--fine sheep country?" "'Tis great on sheep. But sheep ain't nothin' to the everlasting hog craop!" "Think not, eh?" said the old gent. "I swow _teu_ pucker, if I hain't seen more hogs killed, afore breakfast, in Cincinnatty, than would burst this buildin' clean open!" "You don't tell me so?" "By gravy, I deu, though. You hain't never been in Cincinnatty?" "I said not." "Never in a Pork-haouse?" "Never." "Wall, yeou've hearn tell--of Ohio, I reckon?" "Oh, yes! got a daughter living out there," was the answer. "Yeou don't say so?" "I have, in Urbana, or near it," said the old gent. "Urbanny! Great kingdom! why I know teu men living aout there; one's trading, t'other's keepin' school; may be yeou know 'em--Sampson Wheeler's one, Jethro Jones's t'other. Jethro's a cousin of mine; his fa'ther, no, his _mother_ married--'tain't no matter; my name's Small,--Appogee Small, and I was talkin'----" "About the hog crop, Cincinnatty Pork-houses."