the next stable to his slightly hysterical horse the morning after the
H.H. had evacuated, and informed me (his village Sanitary Inspector)
that "as I was fond of animals" (he had seen me distributing fly-traps
and painting horse-trough notice-boards) I was henceforth in sole
command of Hyldebrand until such time as his owners should reclaim him.
A grant of five sous _per diem_ had been left for the piglette's
maintenance.

I took charge of Hyldebrand, provided an old dog-kennel for his shelter,
an older dog-collar for his adornment and six yards of "flex" for his
restraint. I further appointed the runner--a youth from Huddersfield,
nicknamed "Isinglass," in playful sarcastic comment on his speed--second
in command. He was to feed, groom and exercise Hyldebrand. I would
inspect Hyldebrand twice a week.

Hyldebrand rose fast in village popularity. One forgot that his parents
had been shot for cattle maiming, body snatching, breaking into
granaries and defying the gendarmerie on the public roads. But Hyldy was
all docility. He ate his way through the grant, the office stationery,
and the central tin dump with the most disarming _naïvété_. He was the
spoilt darling of every mess. The reflected glory which Isinglass and
myself enjoyed was positively embarrassing.

But as the summer advanced so did Hyldebrand. He became (to quote his
keeper) a "battle pig," with the head of a pantomime dragon,
fore-quarters of a bison, the hind-legs of a deer and a back like an
heraldic scrubbing-brush. In March I had inspected him as he sat upon my
knee. In June I shook hands with him as he strained at his tether. In
mid-September we nodded to each other from opposite sides of a barbed
wire fence. Yet Isinglass retained the most complete mastery of his