ing songs and laugh and shout like the
children, and swear--ye'd think t'was Fripp hisself, he do do it so
naitral!"

Joseph Bold fairly groaned:

"Good Lard! I never did think to hear 'ee talk so voolish--a sensible
body like ye did always use to seem! Dear heart alive! Gold-fish! And
a poll parrot! Well, Mary, I did think as a body o' your years could
content herself wi' live things as had a bit more sense in 'em nor
that."

"Oh, I dare say," returned his spouse sarcastically. "Pigs and
sich-like!" giving a little tap to the wriggling, squeaking creature
at that moment struggling under her arm, "and chicken and ducks! Nice
pets they be."

"Upon my word, a man 'ud lose patience to hear you. _Pets_--at your
time o' life, wi' children grown up and married. Well, if ye want
pets, ha'n't ye had enough of 'em. Don't ye have nigh upon a dozen
lambs to bring up every spring?"

"'E-es, and where be they now, Joseph? Where be the lambs as I got up
afore light in the frostis and snow to attend to? Where be they? Ye
know so well as I do as butcher had 'em, every one. That's my
complaint--you do never let me keep a thing as isn't for killin'. A
body'd need a heart o' stone to stand it. This 'ere pig--ye know right
well as he'll be bacon afore this time next year."

[Illustration: BLACKBIRD'S INSPIRATION
"Here's my little pet," she cried jubilantly]

"Then, in the name of furtin have your fancy, woman! Give it a name,
and I'll get it for 'ee."

"Ye give me your word, do ye, Joseph?"

"I bain't a man to break it," responded the farmer shortly.

Mrs. Bold set the little pig carefully on its feet, and sidled across
the yard, eyeing her husband the while with a curious expression that
was half-fearful, half-triumphant. When she reached the closed stable
door she opened it, plunged into the dark recess within, and
reappeared, dragging forth by a wisp of his ragged mane--poor,
decrepit old Blackbird.

"Here's my little pet," she cried jubilantly, delight at her success
overmastering all other feelings. "You've give me your word, Joseph,
and, as ye d'say yerself, ye bain't the one to take it back. Here's
the only pet I'll ever ax to keep. He'll not cost much," she added,
seeing her husband's face redden and his eyes roll threateningly. "He
can pick about in the summer, and a bit of hay in the winter'll be all
he'll need. I'll make it up to 'ee, see if I don't; and I think you do
owe I summat, anyhow, for workin' so hard as