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"
True
again
,
"
said
Uncle
Pumblechook
.
"
You
’
ve
hit
it
,
sir
!
Plenty
of
subjects
going
about
,
for
them
that
know
how
to
put
salt
upon
their
tails
.
That
’
s
what
’
s
wanted
.
A
man
needn
’
t
go
far
to
find
a
subject
,
if
he
’
s
ready
with
his
salt
-
box
.
"
Mr
.
Pumblechook
added
,
after
a
short
interval
of
reflection
,
"
Look
at
Pork
alone
.
There
’
s
a
subject
!
If
you
want
a
subject
,
look
at
Pork
!
"
"
True
,
sir
.
Many
a
moral
for
the
young
,
"
returned
Mr
.
Wopsle
—
and
I
knew
he
was
going
to
lug
me
in
,
before
he
said
it
;
"
might
be
deduced
from
that
text
.
"
(
"
You
listen
to
this
,
"
said
my
sister
to
me
,
in
a
severe
parenthesis
.
)
Joe
gave
me
some
more
gravy
.
"
Swine
,
"
pursued
Mr
.
Wopsle
,
in
his
deepest
voice
,
and
pointing
his
fork
at
my
blushes
,
as
if
he
were
mentioning
my
Christian
name
—
"
swine
were
the
companions
of
the
prodigal
.
The
gluttony
of
Swine
is
put
before
us
,
as
an
example
to
the
young
.
"
(
I
thought
this
pretty
well
in
him
who
had
been
praising
up
the
pork
for
being
so
plump
and
juicy
.
)
"
What
is
detestable
in
a
pig
is
more
detestable
in
a
boy
.
"
"
Or
girl
,
"
suggested
Mr
.
Hubble
.
"
Of
course
,
or
girl
,
Mr
.
Hubble
,
"
assented
Mr
.
Wopsle
,
rather
irritably
,
"
but
there
is
no
girl
present
.
"
"
Besides
,
"
said
Mr
.
Pumblechook
,
turning
sharp
on
me
,
"
think
what
you
’
ve
got
to
be
grateful
for
.
If
you
’
d
been
born
a
Squeaker
—
"
"
He
was
,
if
ever
a
child
was
,
"
said
my
sister
,
most
emphatically
.
