"Six, nigh about," corrected her husband: "hit's a mile yonside town; but, old lady," he looked at her in surprise, "hain't you a goin' to take Lily Pearl?" Mrs. Doggett looked out of the window, contemplating the clear sky. "I'm afeerd we're a gona have fallin' weather afore I git back," she averred: "and I wouldn't have Lily Pearl to git wet fer nothin'. She's puned around so much lately, I 'lowed maybe the worms is sorter workin' on her. You can take her over to the strippin'-house with you, and she can take her doll quilt and piece on hit. "They's plenty victuals in the press,--I baked three dried apple pies last night, and thar's stewed punkin, and a dish o' lye hominy, and a cold hog's head, and sorghum molasses, and plenty milk and butter. The corn-bread'll be cold by dinner, but I made dodgers, and put a whole lot o' cracklin's in hit, so hit'd eat good, anyhow. Thar won't be nobody here to ring the bell fer you, but you can hear Mrs. Bratcher's. Sence we got ourn, she rings hern at half-past 'leven." At half-past six, Mr. Doggett held open the back gate for Mrs. Doggett's exit. "Well, old lady," he congratulated her, "this time next year, you'll be settin' on a different lookin' set o' wheels, ef them two peegs thar keeps a growin' like they're a growin' now!" Mrs. Doggett looked proudly toward the hovel in the corner of the yard--the habitation of her pet pigs, "Baby" and "Honey"--which together with their progeny were dedicated to the cause of a new buggy. "Hain't they a growin'!" she agreed. "Eph, fer goodness sake, don't fergit to slop 'em at dinner, and see the door is shet. Them smart thengs, they know I'm a goin' away," she added, as a succession of melancholy squeals came over the half door of the piggery. "Big Money," named by Lily Pearl, who heard her grandfather say when he was a new acquisition, that he was "worth big money," was raw-boned and angular, and his coat was an unbeauteous dirty white, but he was a horse of spirit, and in a half hour's time, Mrs. Doggett had crossed the pasture field, passed the rocky "dirt-road," and was well on her way on the turnpike toward the store. The merchant was a slow clerk, and her trading occupied considerable time, however, so that the two who purposed to accompany her on her journey, had ample time to overtake her. When she came out on the platform of the store-house, she was horrified to see two familiar glossy-backed creatures rubbing against the rear wheels of her equipage. "Great day in the mornin'!" she exclaimed, "ef thar hain't my pigs! The outdacious pieces has rooted their door open and trailed me down! The wind shorely blowed the pastur gate open, and now what _am_ I to do?" "Better just let them follow you on, Mrs. Doggett," suggested the pleasant-faced keeper of the store, "if you haven't far to go, and you can shut them up until you get ready to go back home."