PRINCE MORDGE. 251 



gamebag. However, his master's word was law to 

 Slop, so hanging his head and tail, he turned sub- 

 missively after us. 



" Slop is sulking," I remarked, after a time, " and 

 we won't have much fun with him to-day." 



Slop glanced with slight contempt at the speaker 

 and walked ahead, never deigning to notice us more 

 than to look around protestingly if we lingered. 



When we reached the locale of the biting grice, we 

 glanced fearfully around lest she might be dangerously 

 near, but she was nowhere in sight, and we trotted 

 briskly in Slop's wake. 



Suddenly grunt ! grunt ! grunt ! In the ditch by 

 the roadside stood the biting grice, and oh, horror ! up 

 she came, followed by her family, and took up a posi- 

 tion in the path before us. Bella screamed ; I yelled. 

 Slop, a good way ahead, looked back, we suppose, and 

 took in the situation at a glance, for our cries had not 

 been uttered many seconds when, with a bound and 

 fierce snarling. Prince Mordge was on the enemy. 

 Fastening his fangs in one of her long ears, he hung on 

 to the sow, who, utterly discomfited by the unexpected 

 attack, squealed and wheeled about in vain attempts 

 to get rid of her antagonist. The mud flew from 

 beneath their feet, as the two performed circle after 

 circle on the road. The young pigs ran hither and 

 thither, adding noise to their mother's. No Billings- 

 gate scold ever gave more vigorous expression to her 

 outraged feelings than that grice did upon that occa- 

 sion. We were not silent either. Only Prince 



