THE CATERPILLAR HUNTER . 
U9 
sticks of juicy sugar-cane, or bundles of “ old woman’s hair,” 
or did they lay out their pice in alley taws and paper kites ? 
Or is it possible they spent their earnings in the furtive 
enjoyment of country tobacco ? 
They were mostly the children of very poor parents, 
and anything they were known to possess was pretty sure 
to be escheated to the family treasury, but I daresay they 
contrived to deceive their fathers and mothers as cleverly 
as they duped us. Poor little Pigs ! The race is becoming 
extinct now, for I have got almost everything they are 
likely to find, and I cannot maintain a population for the 
chance of a lucky discovery now and then. And it is 
as well. They have returned to the wholesome routine 
of their lowly lives, and my conscience is more at ease 
since I ceased to be the cause of the perishing of hundreds 
of harmless creatures. 
They have not forgotten me, however, and I am often 
greeted by a half impudent salaam from a nude urchin 
in his native gutter, or a sturdy brat mending his father’s 
nets, or a nice-looking boy, in a suit of jail cloth, returning 
from the carpenter’s shop, where he is now serving his 
apprenticeship. He catches my eye and smiles comically, 
as much as to say, “ I was a Pig once.” 
