I know that, missus. If I had to do it, I wouldn’t. Mam says she has a pain in her back, that I’ll have to carry the pig’s head. I hold it against my chest but it’s damp and when the newspaper begins to fall away everyone can see the head. Mam says, I’m ashamed of  me  life  that  the  world  should  know  we’re  having  pig’s  head  for Christmas. Boys from Leamy’s National School see me and they point and laugh.Aw,Gawd,look at Frankie McCourt an’his pig’s snout.Is that what the Yanks ate for Christmas dinner, Frankie? One calls to another, Hey, Christy, do you know how to ate a pig’s head? No, I don’t, Paddy. Grab him by the ears an’ chew the face offa him. And Christy says, Hey, Paddy, do you know the only part of the pig the McCourts don’t ate? No, I don’t, Christy. The only part they don’t ate is the oink. After a few streets the newspaper is gone altogether and everyone can see the pig’s head. His nose is flat against my chest and pointing up at my chin and I feel sorry for him because he’s dead and the world is laughing at him. My sister and two brothers are dead, too, but if anyone laughed at them I’d hit them with a rock. I wish Dad would come and help us because Mam has to stop every few steps and lean against a wall. She’s holding her back and telling us  she’ll  never  be  able  to  climb  Barrack  Hill. Even  if  Dad  came  he wouldn’t be much use because he never carries anything, parcels, bags, packages. If you carry such things you lose your dignity.That’s what he says. He carried the twins when they were tired and he carried the Pope, but that was not the same as carrying ordinary things like a pig’s head. He tells Malachy and me that when you grow up you have to wear a collar and tie and never let people see you carry things. He’s upstairs sitting by the fire,smoking a cigarette,reading The Irish Press,  which he loves because it’s De Valera’s paper and he thinks De Valera is the greatest man in the world. He looks at me and the pig’s head and tells Mam it’s a disgraceful thing to let a boy carry an object like that through the streets of Limerick. She takes off her coat and eases herself into the bed and tells him that next Christmas he can go out and find the dinner. She’s worn out and gasping for a cup of tea so would he drop his grand airs, boil the water for the tea and fry some bread before his two small sons starve to death. 98