"A pretty sort of secret--known to eight already, and bawled out all
over the yard," said Sam.

"But don't tell him what it's for; you can ask him without that."

"A nice little young pig," said Sam, "such as you'd keep all the
summer, and fat in the winter."

"Mind, it ain't for you, Purday," cried Hal.

"Never fear my being disappointed, sir," said the free-spoken Purday,
with a twinkle of his eye, which Hal understood so well that he burst
out,

"Ah! you think I can never do what I say I will; but you'll see,
Purday, if we don't give a pig to--"

He was screamed at, and pulled into order and silence, ere the words,
"Hannah Higgins" had quite come out; and Sam repeated his question.

"Well," said Purday at last, "if pigs was reasonable, you might get a
nice little one to fat, at Kattern Hill fair, somewhere about ten
shillings, or maybe twelve--sometimes more, sometimes less."

"Ten shillings!" The community stood round and looked at one another
at the notion of such an awful sum; but Hal was the first to cast a
ray of hope on the gloom. "Kattern Hill fair ain't till Midsummer,
and perhaps Grandmamma will send us some money before that. If
anybody's birthday was but coming!"