"Eighteen score of pounds," said the man.
"And how much do you expect to get for him?"
"Eight pounds; I shan't take less."
"And who will buy him?" said I.
"Some gent from Wolverhampton or about there," said the man; "there
will be plenty of gents from Wolverhampton at the fair."
"And what do you fatten your hogs upon?" said I.
"Oatmeal," said the man.
"And why not on barley-meal?"
"Oatmeal is the best," said the man; "the gents from Wolverhampton
prefer them fattened on oatmeal."
"Do the gents of Wolverhampton," said I, "eat the hogs?"
"They do not," said the man; "they buy them to sell again; and they
like hogs fed on oatmeal best, because they are the fattest."
"But the pork is not the best," said I; "all hog-flesh raised on
oatmeal is bitter and wiry; because do you see - "
"I see you are in the trade," said the man, "and understand a thing
or two."
"I understand a thing or two," said I, "but I am not in the trade.
Do you come from far?"
"From Llandeglo," said the man.
"Are you a hog-merchant?" said I.
"Yes," said he, "and a horse-dealer, and a farmer, though rather a
small one."
"I suppose as you are a horse-dealer," said I, "you travel much
about?"
"Yes," said the man; "I have travelled a good deal about Wales and
England."
"Have you been in Ynys Fon?" said I.
