“A nice little pig, such as you’d give—” “Hush, hush, Hal, it’s a secret,” cried Susan. “A pretty sort of secret—known to eight already, and bawled out all over the yard,” said Sam. “But don’t tell him what it’s for; you can ask him without that.” “A nice little young pig,” said Sam, “such as you’d keep all the summer, and fat in the winter.” “Mind, it ain’t for you, Purday,” cried Hal. “Never fear my being disappointed, sir,” said the free-spoken Purday, with a twinkle of his eye, which Hal understood so well that he burst out, “Ah! you think I can never do what I say I will; but you’ll see, Purday, if we don’t give a pig to—” He was screamed at, and pulled into order and silence, ere the words, “Hannah Higgins” had quite come out; and Sam repeated his question. “Well,” said Purday at last, “if pigs was reasonable, you might get a nice little one to fat, at Kattern Hill fair, somewhere about ten shillings, or maybe twelve—sometimes more, sometimes less.” “Ten shillings!” The community stood round and looked at one another at the notion of such an awful sum; but Hal was the first to cast a ray of hope on the gloom. “Kattern Hill fair ain’t till Midsummer, and perhaps Grandmamma will send us some money before that. If anybody’s birthday was but coming!” “Better save it out of our allowance,” said Sam. “How long is it to the fair?” Miss Fosbrook’s pocket-book declared it to be four weeks. “Well, then,” said Hal, “we three big ones have sixpence a week each, that’s six shillings, leaving out stingy Bess, and the little ones threepence, that’s three times three is nine, and three times nine is thirty-six, that’s three shillings, and six is nine, and very near four is fourteen. We shall do the pig yet.” “Yes, Hal; but if pigs are reasonable, I am afraid three times nine never yet were so much so as to make thirty-six,” objected Miss Fosbrook. Sam whistled. “Twenty-seven—that’s three and twopence—it’s all the same,” said Hal; then at the scream of the rest, “at least two and threepence. Well, any way there’s plenty for piggy-wiggy, and it shall be a jolly secret to delight Hannah Higgins, and surprise Papa and Mamma: hurrah!” “Yes,” said Sam; “but then nobody must have any fines.” “Ay, and Sue must keep her money. That will be a wonder!” shouted Harry. “Well, I’ll try,” said Susan. “I’ll try not to have a single fine, and I’ll not buy a single lump of sugar-candy, for I do want poor Hannah to have her pig.” “And so will we!” cried the younger ones with one voice. “Only,” added Susan, “I must buy Dicky’s canary seed.” “And I must have a queen’s head to write to Mamma,” said Annie. “Oh! never mind that, such trumpery as your letters are,” said Hal. “Mamma could say them by heart before she gets them. What does she care for them?” Little Annie looked very deplorable.