THE FARMER'S MAGAZINE. 



67 



A PAPER ON SWINE. 



\^Read before the Committee of the Worcester (Massachusetts) Agricultural Society.'] 



Mr. PRESiDiiNT AND GENTLEMEN,— With instiuctive 

 modesty I appear before you as Chairman of the Committee 

 ou Swine, deeply feeling, as I do, the respousibilities of the 

 position I have unwittingly, and I fear unwisely, assumed ; 

 but, gentlemen, relying on your well-known courtesy, I have 

 endeavoured faithfully, and to the best of my ability, to dis- 

 charge the task which you have assigned me. 



It is placing one in a very awkward predicament, to be 

 invited out to a dinner or evening party, and whei the ices or 

 jellies have disappeared, to receive a quiet intimation from host 

 or hostess, that the time is arrived when he is expected to be 

 exceeding funny. Such a hint, however deliberately adminis- 

 tered, would chill the heart of the merriest, and banish every 

 thought of jest or humour, unless, like the farmer's farrow 

 cow, the luckless individual possess the faculty of never drying- 

 up, but is ever prepared to give down fun, frolic, and comical 

 stories the whole year round. 



The traditions of the past, the hallowed usages of days gone 

 by, all point to the report of the Pig Committee, as the pecu- 

 liar and proper vehicle for fun in the celebration of our Society. 

 Prosy we dare not be, merry we would be ; but the tricksy 

 spirit which inspires with wit and humour is coy indeed, and 

 comes not always at bidding, though wooed never so ardently. 

 Wit, fun, and frolic are like the dew-drops that sparkle and 

 glitter in the bright sunlight but for a moment ; sprite-like 

 they come and go — whence or whither no one knows. After 

 an earnest invocation to the Deity of Fun, that she will grant 

 me a few ideas which may interest or amuse you, I proceed 

 with the subject. 



Historically, socially, and gastronomically, the pig demands 

 our careful attention. The connection with commerce, with 

 the cuisine, and even with the great interest of lire insurance, 

 have all made him an object of particular regard. In the early 

 days of the Celestial Empire — as we learn from the veracious 

 writings of the witty and voracious essayist, Charles Lamb — a 

 wealthy Chinaman was so unfortunate as to have his dwelling 

 destroyed by fire. Prowling around the smoking ruins, and 

 seeking to save some of his valuables which the conflagration 

 might have spared, his hand came in contact with the smoking 

 remains of a poor pig which had perished in the flames ; in- 

 stantly, smarting with the pain, he carried his hand to his 

 mouth, when a peculiar flavour greeted his palate, such as the 

 gods (Chinese ones I mean, of course) might in vain have 

 sighed for. Regardless of pain he applied himself once more, 

 and drew forth from the smoking cinders the remains of the 

 pig. Carefully brushing off the ashes, he regaled himself with 

 the feast before him, but closely preserved the secret he bad 

 learned. In a few short months, however, ihe taste for roast 

 pig came back so strong, that John Chinaman's house was 

 burned down again, and again was a pig found in the ashes. 

 This was repeated so often that the neighbours grew suspicion?, 

 and watched until they ascertained that the reason for the 

 conflagration was the feast that invariably followed. Once 

 out, the secret spread like wildfire; every hill-top shone with 

 the flames of a burning habitation— every valley was blackened 

 with the ashes of a homestead ; but roast pig was dearer to a 

 Chinaman than home or honour, and s'ill the work of destruc- 

 tion went on. Alarmed at a course which bid fair to ruin 



every insurance oflSce in the empire, the directors petitioned in 

 a body to the General Court of China, for the passit)g of an 

 Act that should arrest the evil and avert their threatened ruin ; 

 and a careful examination of the revised statutes of China 

 would probably show stringent resolutions against the crime 

 of burning houses for the sake of roasting pigs. 



Since the invention of the modern cooking stove, however, 

 although incendiarism has decreased only in a slight degree, 

 still it has ceased to be attributed to this cause, and a juicy 

 crackling is no longer suggestive of fallen rafters or a houseless 

 family. 



There is an old adage, " Give a dog a bad name, and his ruin 

 is accomplished." Such may be true of the canine race ; but 

 the noble family of animals of which I am treating furnishes a 

 striking illustration that the proverb applies not to their num- 

 bers. A goose, it is said, saved lordly Rome by its cackling ; 

 and had not their list of Divinities just then been full, a grateful 

 people would have found for him a sedgy pool and quiet nest 

 in Olympus. How did the ancestors of that same people repay 

 the pig for a service scarcely less important? 



The veriest smatterer in the classics knows, that, when from 

 flaming Troy, " ^Eiieas the great Anchises bore," seeking in 

 strange lauds a new home for his conquered people, a white 

 sow, attended by thirty white little pigs, pure as herself, 

 pointed out to him the scene of his future empire. But what 

 did he and his people do for the pig in return ? Did they load 

 him with honours ? Did they cherish him with corn ? Did 

 they treat him with respect ? No ! with black ingratitude, 

 which still merits the indignation of every admirer of the pig, 

 they aftixed to the animal the appellation of " Porcus ;" and 

 " poor cuss" the pig would have been to the present day, had 

 not the Latin (ougue long since ceased to be the language of 

 the world. But " poor cuss" he is no longer, when in Wor- 

 cester county he spurns his classic name, and, adopting the 

 vernacular, he " grows the whole hog," that he may " pork us," 

 in return for the care which we bestow upon him. 



For the sake of our farmers, who are anxious to make a profit 

 from pig-raising, it is greatly to be regretted that the thirty- 

 at-a-litter breed, already alluded to, has disappeared from the 

 face of the earth. Breeding swine with such a rate of increase 

 must be almost as profitable as " shaving" notes at two per cent, 

 per month ; but still the impression is irresistibly forced upon 

 us, that, in a family so numerous, those who came last to din- 

 ner, at least in their infant days, would not have gained flesh 

 very rapidly. Indeed, in such a family it would seem almost 

 impossible to dispense with the services of a wet nurse, in order 

 to bring up profitably the rising generation. 



The course of the pig, like that of the Star of Empire, has 

 ever tended westward. From China we trace him to Italy, 

 the gloomy mountains of the Hartz, the broad plains of West- 

 phalia, the fertile valleys of France, and to the waving forests 

 of " Merrie England;" all have known him since the days 

 when their bold barons and hungry retainers sat down to feast 

 on the juicy chine of the wild boar, and the savoury haunch of 

 venison. In green Erin piijgy has been an important member 

 of society ; true, he has shared his master's meal, and basked 

 in the comfortable warmth of his cabin; but,likea "gintlenian" 

 as he is, he has ever paid the " rint ;" and St. Patrick, in the 



