Pigscot

There the tire-tracks swept round a curve, away from the leafy stormy hill lane that had a rusty iron smell of cottages and pigscots. The hill went up abruptly above the roofs, and the slates shining looked like sealskin.

Halfway up the garden was a set of hives, for in those days my grandfather kept bees; and then, further up the garden and well away from the house was a pigscot, where a pig, our pig, was fattened on potato and other vegetable peelings […]