Fairer than Morning by Rosslyn Elliott

fence. But Will was glad the doctor let them run free. It was better than the nasty sty where Master Good penned his pigs.
    â€œLoo-cy!” the doctor called, making a clucking noise with his tongue. The white sow raised her head and looked at him. Her little tail wagged like a dog’s. She was a very smart pig and a valuable brood sow. But she would not leave her piglets, even for her owner.
    Skirt billowing, Miss Miller ran across the freezing yard toward the middle sister, who had her piglet pinned down and was holding it with fierce determination. “Let go, Susan!” the pretty young woman said.
    â€œBut he’ll get away!”
    Miss Miller hesitated, then knelt down, her skirt crunching into folds. She reached for the piglet.
    â€œMiss Miller! Your dress!” Dr. Loftin called out, raising a hand as if to stop her.
    She ignored him, seized the piglet in a truss-hold by both pairs of legs, and whisked it upside down. She marched to the doctor, who took it from her with a wry grimace as it expelled a blob from its nether parts.
    Another piglet stood at bay against the barn. Will scooped it up and walked toward the pig run. The doctor called Lucy again, and this time the sow peered over at the three piglets on the Loftin side of the fence. She walked back through the gate and headed for the run, and one by one, the other five piglets swiveled their little heads and trotted nimbly after their mother.
    â€œMy apologies, Master Good,” Dr. Loftin said. “We’ll find that hole and fix it before I let them out again.”
    â€œI’d be much obliged, Doctor,” the master said, with a bizarre death’s-head grin that made Will want to smash his teeth in. He could not abide the way the master ranted on at length in private about the doctor’s pigs but was all ingratiating smiles to the doctor’s face. He knew his master was jealous of the doctor’s pigs—their fine breeding, the prolific sow, the way people came even from across the river to admire them and talk to the doctor about the piglets. Most of all, his master hated the doctor’s “soft” treatment of the animals.
    Will himself quite liked the doctor’s pigs and stopped to scratch their jowls and stroke the piglets when he thought he could do so unobserved by his master or mistress. The white pigs were much better tempered than his master’s pigs, which were surly and restless from their confinement in their own filth.
    The Miller girls walked back to the doctor’s property, the littlest one crowing to the middle one, “Did you see me hold that pig?”
    â€œYes, but he almost got away,” the middle one said. “I held mine all by myself.”
    â€œI held mine all by myself too—” the little one said, indignant.
    â€œGirls! Shush,” their older sister said. The excitement had left high color in her face, brightening her eyes. “I’m sorry if we created more difficulties for you, Master Good,” she said.
    â€œNot at all, miss,” he said in his false jovial way, as if he were the neighborhood benefactor. “Now, we’d best be getting back to work, eh, boy? Time’s a-wasting.”
    â€œYes, sir.” Will stole a glance at Miss Miller. She was looking at him with pity—he could not stand that. He had seen the way the littlest girl wrinkled her nose at him earlier. They thought him beneath them. He walked back to the barn and slammed the door behind him.
    The barn’s dark privacy was welcome, but in only a moment the door banged open. Master Good had followed him.
    â€œWhat’s that, boy? You’re not showing a bit of temper, are you?” His voice was deceptively quiet.
    Will’s skin crawled, and he tried with all his might to blanch the anger from his face and substitute innocence. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.” He wanted to retch, but he knew his master would have his hide at the slightest