down--pint your gun,--and when I say fire--fire! there it is--fire!"

Bang! bang! went the two guns, and a piercing squeak followed the report.

"Ve've tickled him," exclaimed Spriggs, as they ran to pick up the spoil.

"Ve've pickled him, rayther," cried Grubbs, "for by gosh it's a piggy!"

"Hallo! you chaps, vot are you arter?" inquired a man, popping his head
over the intervening hedge. "Vy, I'm blessed if you ain't shot von o'
Stubbs's pigs." And leaping the hedge he took the 'pork' in his arms,
while the sportsmen who had used their arms so destructively now took to
their legs for security. But ignorance of the locality led them into the
midst of a village, and the stentorian shouts of the pig-bearer soon
bringing a multitude at their heels, Mr. Richard Grubb was arrested in
his flight. Seized fast by the collar, in the grasp of the butcher and
constable of the place, all escape was vain. Spriggs kept a respectful
distance.

"Now my fine fellow," cried he, brandishing his staff, "you 'ither pays
for that 'ere pig, or ve'll fix you in the cage."

Now the said cage not being a bird-cage, Mr. Richard Grubb could see no
prospect of sport in it, and therefore fearfully demanded the price of
the sucking innocent, declaring his readiness to 'shell out.'

Mr. Stubbs, the owner, stepped forward, and valued it at eighteen
shillings.

"Vot! eighteen shillings for that 'ere little pig!" exclaimed the