In his left hand he held a heavy whale-bone whip
with a brass head. I sat down on a bench nearly opposite to him
and the landlord.
"Well," said Mr Pritchard; "did you find your way to Llanfair?"
"Yes," said I.
"And did you execute the business satisfactorily which led you
there?" said Mr Pritchard.
"Perfectly," said I.
"Well, what did you give a stone for your live pork?" said his
companion glancing up at me, and speaking in a gruff voice.
"I did not buy any live pork," said I; "do you take me for a pig-
jobber?"
"Of course," said the man, in pepper-and-salt; "who but a pig
jobber could have business at Llanfair?"
"Does Llanfair produce nothing but pigs?" said I.
"Nothing at all," said the man in the pepper-and-salt, "that is,
nothing worth mentioning. You wouldn't go there for runts, that
is, if you were in your right senses; if you were in want of runts
you would have gone to my parish and have applied to me, Mr Bos;
that is if you were in your senses. Wouldn't he, John Pritchard?"
Mr Pritchard thus appealed to took the pipe out of his mouth, and
with some hesitations said that he believed the gentleman neither
went to Llanfair for pigs nor black cattle but upon some particular
business.
