short o' ham an' collops o' bacon all t' summer, an' if there's one
thing I like better nor another it's a bit o' fried ham to my tea.'

"'Nay, thou mun bury t' pig, an' do without thy bit o' bacon,' he says,
and there was summat i' t' way he gave his orders that fair bet me. I
went all o' a dither, while I hardly knew if I were standin' on my heels
or my heead. But t' lad were as cool as a cucumber all t' while; he
folded his arms an' looked at me wi' his green eyes, an' just said nowt.
Eh! but 'twere gey hard to mak' up my mind what to do. I looked at t'
pig, an' if iver I've seen a pig axin' to have his life spared it were
yon; but then I looked at t' lad, an' his eyes were as hard as two
grunstones; there was no gettin' round t' lad, I could see. So at lang
length I gav' in. I killed t' pig and I buried him same as I'd buried t'
potate.

"When I gat home I said nowt to t' missus about t' pig, for I couldn't
let on that I'd buried it; shoo'd have reckoned I were a bigger fooil
nor shoo took me for. Shoo gav me a sup o' poddish for my supper, an'
all t' time I were eytin' it I kept thinkin' o' t' fried ham that I'd
missed, an' I were fair mad wi' misen. I went to bed, but I couldn't get
to sleep nohow. You see, I'd bin plagued wi' mowdiewarps up i' t'
'lotment; they'd scratted up my spring onions an' played Hamlet wi' my
curly greens. An' then all of a sudden I bethowt me that t' mowdiewarps
would be sure to find t' pig an' mak quick-sticks o' him afore t'
mornin'. Eh! I gat that mad wi' thinkin' on it that I couldn't bide i'
bed no longer. I gat up 'thout wakkin' t' missus, an' I crept downstairs
i' my stockin' feet, an' went to t' coil-house wheer I kept my spade. I
were boun to dig up t' pig an' bring him home afore t' mowdiewarps sud
find him. But when I'd oppened coil-house door, what sud I see but a
pair o' green eyes glowerin' at me out o' t' darkness. I were that flaid