"Miss Fosbrook, what does a pig cost?"

Miss Fosbrook shook her head and laughed, saying that she knew much
less of pigs than they did; and Susan exclaiming, "There's Purday in
the court," they all tumbled to the window, one upon the top of the
other.

The window was a large heavily-framed sash, with a deep window-seat,
and a narrow ledge within the sill--as if made on purpose, the first
for the knees the second for the elbows of the gazers therefrom.

As to the view, it was into a walled kitchen court, some high
chestnut and lime trees just looking over the grey roofs of the
offices. On the ground lay a big black Newfoundland dog, and a
couple of graceful greyhounds, one of them gnawing a bone, cunningly
watched by a keen-looking raven, with his head on one side; while
peeping out from the bars of the bottle-rack was the demure face of
the sandy cat, on the watch for either bones or sparrows.

A stout, stumpy, shrewd-looking labourer, in a short round frock,
high buskins, an old wide-awake, short curly hair, and a very large
nose, stood in front of the dairy door, mixing a mess of warm milk
for the young calves.

"Purday! Master Purday!" roared nearly the whole young population
above; but he was so intent on his mixture, that he went on as if he
were deaf, till a second explosion of "Purday! Purday! I say!" made
him turn up his face in an odd half-awake kind of manner.