most absurd thing you ever saw, especially as it proceeds from so
unromantic an animal. Late in the spring (that is to say, about
November last) we were all returning from a great pig-hunting
expedition, when I saw one of the party coming down a steep hill
near the house with a small and glossy-black wild pig under each
arm; he was very proud of his captives, placed them in a box with
some straw, and fed them like babies out of a bottle. We laughed at
him very much; but when he went away he begged so earnestly that the
pigs should be reared that we promised to keep them. In a few days
they became perfectly tame, and were very handsome little creatures;
and one of them attached itself to me, following me all about, even
into the house (but _that_ I really could not stand), accompanying
me in all my walks, and, as far as it could, in my rides. Many a
time have I seen poor little piggy carried down a creek by the
current, squealing piteously, but it was evidently a case of "many
waters cannot quench love," for a little further on piggy would
appear, very much baked, but holding out gallantly, till sheer
exhaustion compelled him to give in, when he would lie down under a
tussock, apparently dying; but, as we were coming home in the dusk,
Helen, my pretty bay mare, has given many a shy at piggy starting up
from his shelter with gambols and squeals of joy.

It is always a great temptation to loiter about in the lovely fresh
morning air, but I have to be dressed in time for prayers and
breakfast at nine; directly after breakfast I go into the kitchen;
sometimes, it is only necessary to give orders or instructions, but
generally I find that practice is much better than precept, and I
see to the soup myself, and make the pudding--the joint can take
care of itself.