“Come, never mind,” said Sam; “she’s as obstinate as a male when she gets a thing into her head. Let’s see what we’ve got without her. I’ve only sevenpence: worse luck that I bought ball of string yesterday.” The addition amounted to three shillings and elevenpence halfpenny: a sum which looked so mighty when spread out, chiefly in coppers, on the window-seat, that Annie and David looked on it as capable of buying any amount of swine; but Sam looked rather blank at it, and gazing up and down, said, “But what does a pig cost?” “Miss Fosbrook, what does a pig cost?” Miss Fosbrook shook her head and laughed, saying that she knew much less of pigs than they did; and Susan exclaiming, “There’s Purday in the court,” they all tumbled to the window, one upon the top of the other. The window was a large heavily-framed sash, with a deep window-seat, and a narrow ledge within the sill—as if made on purpose, the first for the knees the second for the elbows of the gazers therefrom. As to the view, it was into a walled kitchen court, some high chestnut and lime trees just looking over the grey roofs of the offices. On the ground lay a big black Newfoundland dog, and a couple of graceful greyhounds, one of them gnawing a bone, cunningly watched by a keen-looking raven, with his head on one side; while peeping out from the bars of the bottle-rack was the demure face of the sandy cat, on the watch for either bones or sparrows. A stout, stumpy, shrewd-looking labourer, in a short round frock, high buskins, an old wide-awake, short curly hair, and a very large nose, stood in front of the dairy door, mixing a mess of warm milk for the young calves. “Purday! Master Purday!” roared nearly the whole young population above; but he was so intent on his mixture, that he went on as if he were deaf, till a second explosion of “Purday! Purday! I say!” made him turn up his face in an odd half-awake kind of manner. “Purday, what’s the price of a pig?” and, “What does a pig cost, Purday?” “What d’ye all holler at once for? A body can’t hear a word,” was all the answer they got; whereupon they all started together again, and Purday went on with his mixture as if they had been so many hens cackling. Then Sam got up his breath again and called alone, “Purday!” and Hal and Susan by pats and pinches strangled the like outcry from Annie and John, so as to leave the field clear for the great question, “Purday, what does a pig cost?” “More than your voices up there, sir,” growled Purday, making some laugh; but Henry cried impatiently, “Now, Purday, we really do want to know what is the price of pigs.” “They was high last market,” began Purday. “I don’t care if they were high or low,” said Hal; “I want to know what money they cost.” “Different pigs cost different prices,” quoth the oracle, so sententiously, that Miss Fosbrook’s shoulders shook with laughing as she stood a little in the background of the eager heap in the window.