think I could pick out Hartlepool Helen; she's his favourite."

Latimer showed a belated firmness on the subject of Hartlepool Helen, and
Vera withdrew without pressing the point, having first settled the
gamecock on his extemporised perch and taken an affectionate farewell of
the pigling. Latimer undressed and got into bed with all due speed,
judging that the pig would abate its inquisitorial restlessness once the
light was turned out. As a substitute for a cosy, straw-bedded sty the
room offered, at first inspection, few attractions, but the disconsolate
animal suddenly discovered an appliance in which the most luxuriously
contrived piggeries were notably deficient. The sharp edge of the
underneath part of the bed was pitched at exactly the right elevation to
permit the pigling to scrape himself ecstatically backwards and forwards,
with an artistic humping of the back at the crucial moment and an
accompanying gurgle of long-drawn delight. The gamecock, who may have
fancied that he was being rocked in the branches of a pine-tree, bore the
motion with greater fortitude than Latimer was able to command. A series
of slaps directed at the pig's body were accepted more as an additional
and pleasing irritant than as a criticism of conduct or a hint to desist;
evidently something more than a man's firm hand was needed to deal with
the case. Latimer slipped out of bed in search of a weapon of
dissuasion. There was sufficient light in the room to enable the pig to
detect this manoeuvre, and the vile temper, inherited from the drowned
mother, found full play. Latimer bounded back into bed, and his
conqueror, after a few threatening snorts and champings of its jaws,
resumed its massage operations with renewed zeal. During the long
wakeful hours which ensued Latimer tried to distract his mind from his
own immediate troubles by dwelling with decent sympathy on the second
housemaid's bereavement, but he found himself more often wondering how
many Boy Scouts were sharing his Melton overcoat. The role of Saint