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Updated: June 8, 2025
I did not relish the job by any means. I felt sorry for the porkling: mere pig though it was, it had after all grown up in our house. And it was hard on me to have a hand in the affair. But one angry word of Anna's set me a-going. In a moment my hand was on the animal, which trusted me and believed in me implicitly. Then Anna handed me a rope to bind it.
His shrill voice cut the air like the yell of a stuck porkling not quite done to death. Suddenly he grew quiet. Some one must have struck him. An unexpected, oppressive silence ensued. The boy was being pushed forward. Then there came a deafening report. Andersen started back all in a tremble.
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