eplied Mrs Nickleby. 'Roast pig;
let me see. On the day five weeks after you were christened, we had a
roast--no, that couldn't have been a pig, either, because I recollect
there were a pair of them to carve, and your poor papa and I could
never have thought of sitting down to two pigs--they must have been
partridges. Roast pig! I hardly think we ever could have had one, now
I come to remember, for your papa could never bear the sight of them
in the shops, and used to say that they always put him in mind of very
little babies, only the pigs had much fairer complexions; and he had a
horror of little babies, to, because he couldn't very well afford any
increase to his family, and had a natural dislike to the subject. It's
very odd now, what can have put that in my head! I recollect dining
once at Mrs Bevan's, in that broad street round the corner by the
coachmaker's, where the tipsy man fell through the cellar-flap of an
empty house nearly a week before the quarter-day, and wasn't found till
the new tenant went in--and we had roast pig there. It must be that, I
think, that reminds me of it, especially as there was a little bird in
the room that would keep on singing all the time of dinner--at least,
not a little bird, for it was a parrot, and he didn't sing exactly, for
he talked and swore dreadfully: but I think it must be that. Indeed I am
sure it must. Shouldn't you say so, my dear?'

'I should say there was not a doubt about it, mama,' returned Kate, with
a cheerful smile.

'No; but DO you think so, Kate?' said Mrs Nickleby, with as much gravity
as if it were a question of the most imminent and thrilling interest.
'If you don't, say so at once, you know; because it's just as well to be
correct, particularly on a point of this kind, which is very curious and
worth settling while one thinks about it.'

Kate laughingly replied that she was quite convinced; and as her mama
still appeared undetermined whether it was not absolutely essential that
the subject should be renewed, proposed that they should take their
work into the summer-house, and enjoy the beauty of the afternoon.
Mrs Nickleby readily assented, and to the summer-house they repaired,
without further discussion.

'Well, I will say,' observed Mrs Nickleby, as she took her seat, 'that
there never was such a good creature as Smike. Upon my word, the pains
he has taken in putting this little arbour to rights, and training the
sweetest flowers about it, are beyo