PIGS. 61 



its heavenly hue from the colour of the flowers it 

 lodges on ; and silkworms weave in accordance with 

 the food supplied them. But, after all, this is not to 

 be wondered at, when man, by dint of intelligent art, 

 has actually come at last to tint the very petals of a 

 favourite flower at will. I refer not to the negative 

 process, whereby we all know how the descendant of 

 St. Denis blanches his chicory salad — viz., by im- 

 murement in a garden bastille, where the oxygen tap 

 of light is all but cut off — but to an actual fact of 

 colouring in broad day, by supplying the root of the 

 plant with a medicated drink. 



The black pig is often preferred, as being less 

 liable to skin-disease, and having a thinner rind than 

 the white sorts. The first objection may be met by 

 the observance of proper cleanliness, a constantly 

 fresh bed, and an occasional washing (it is a myth, 

 by the way, that pigs cut their throats with their 

 claws in swimming) ; while the skin of the black one 

 will often require to be anointed with mutton or 

 other fat, to soothe the cracking surface ; or with tar, 

 in summer, to heal and drive away the flies from the 

 wounds they get by rubbing. There is another inter- 

 mediate colour occasionally seen — a sort of Napoleon 

 grey, which comes of a cross between the black and 

 white (as the roan of the shorthorn is from a red and 

 white admixture ; red sire and white dam produce 

 roan ; white sire and red dam, spotted red and white 

 — as a rule ; no rule without an exception, but such 

 usually holds), occasionally tinged by a light umber 

 or treacle wash. This Pliny states to have been the 

 hue of the Indian wild pig. Now-a-days, though 



