it seemed, which some farmer near her home kept chained up at the end of
his chicken run, in all weathers, till it had almost lost its voice from
barking!

"And the misery is," she said vehemently, "that if the poor thing didn't
bark at every one who passes it wouldn't be kept there. I do think men
are cunning brutes. I've let it go twice, on the sly; it's nearly bitten
me both times, and then it goes simply mad with joy; but it always runs
back home at last, and they chain it up again. If I had my way, I'd
chain that man up." Jon saw her teeth and her eyes gleam. "I'd brand him
on his forehead with the word 'Brute'; that would teach him!"

Jon agreed that it would be a good remedy.

"It's their sense of property," he said, "which makes people chain
things. The last generation thought of nothing but property; and that's
why there was the War."

"Oh!" said Fleur, "I never thought of that. Your people and mine
quarrelled about property. And anyway we've all got it--at least, I
suppose your people have."

"Oh! yes, luckily; I don't suppose I shall be any good at making money."

"If you were, I don't believe I should like you."

Jon slipped his hand tremulously under her arm. Fleur looked straight
before her and chanted:

"Jon, Jon, the farmer's son, Stole a pig, and away he run!"