"A hind leg, if you please," answered Jack; "and, pray, be so good
as to include the tail."

"With all my heart," said Peterkin, exchanging the axe for his
hoop-iron knife, with which he cut off the desired portion. "I'm
only too glad, my dear boy, to see that your appetite is so
wholesale; and there's no chance whatever of its dwindling down
into re-tail again, at least in so far as this pig is concerned.
Ralph, lad, why don't you laugh? - eh?" he added turning suddenly
to me with a severe look of inquiry.

"Laugh?" said I; "what at, Peterkin? why should I laugh?"

Both Jack and Peterkin answered this inquiry by themselves laughing
so immoderately that I was induced to believe I had missed noticing
some good joke, so I begged that it might be explained to me; but
as this only produced repeated roars of laughter, I smiled and
helped myself to another slice of plantain.

"Well, but," continued Peterkin, "I was talking of a sail to-
morrow. Can't we have one, Jack?"

"No," replied Jack, "we can't have a sail, but I hope we shall have
a row, as I intend to work hard at the oars this afternoon, and, if
we can't get them finished by sunset we'll light our candle-nuts,
and turn them out of hands before we turn into bed."

"Very good," said Peterkin, tossing a lump of pork to the cat, who
received it with a mew of satisfaction. "I'll help you, if I can."