“See, now,” says the priest to the other two, “Master Jacob, who lives over yonder way, is going to bring his fat pig to market to-morrow. If you have a mind for a trick, we will go snacks in what we win, and each of us will have a rib or two of bacon hanging in the pantry, and a string or so of sausages back in the chimney without paying so much as a brass button for them.” Well, of course that was a tune to which the others were willing to dance. So the rogue of a priest told them to do thus and so, and to say this and that, and they would cheat Master Jacob out of his good fat pig as easily as a beggar eats buttered parsnips. So the next morning off starts Master Jacob to the market, driving his fat pig before him with a bit of string around the leg of it. Down he comes into the town, and the first one whom he meets is the master priest. “How do you find yourself, Master Jacob?” says the priest, “and where are you going with that fine, fat dog?” “Dog!” says Master Jacob, opening his eyes till they were as big and as round as saucers. “Dog! Prut! It is as fine a pig as ever came into this town, I would have you know.” “What!” says the priest. “Do you try to tell me that that is a pig, when I can see with both of my ears and all of my eyes that it is a great, fat dog?” “I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob. “I say it is a dog!” says the priest. “I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob. “I say it is a dog!” says the priest. “I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob. Just then who should come along but the provost, with his hands in his pockets and his pipe in his mouth, looking as high and mighty as though he owned all of that town and the sun and the moon into the bargain. “Look, friend,” says the priest. “We have been saying so and so and so and so, just now. Will you tell me, _is_ that a pig, or _is_ it a dog?” “Prut!” says the provost, “how you talk, neighbor! Do you take me for a fool I should like to know? Why, it is as plain as the nose on your face that it is a great, fat dog.” “I say it is a pig!” bawled Master Jacob. “I say it is a dog!” says the provost. “I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob. “I say it is a dog!” says the provost. “I say it is a pig!” says Master Jacob. “Come, come,” says the priest, “let us have no high words over the matter. No, no; we will take it to the mayor. If he says that it is a pig we two will give you ten shillings; and if he says it is a dog, you will give the animal to us as a penance.” Well, Master Jacob was satisfied with that, for he was almost certain that it was a pig. So off they marched to the mayor’s house. There the priest told all about the matter, for he was used to talking. “And now,” says he, “_is_ it a pig, or _is_ it a dog?” [Illustration: Master Jacob comes to y^e town with his fine, fat pig and there falls in with the Priest and the Provost.]