RUMOURS OF THE PIG-FARM 



nearly always tenantless by reason of the pig-farm at the 

 back. The farmer who kept the farm was amazed and 

 indignant when one of the passenger tenants remonstrated 

 with him and threatened him with the Sanitary Inspector. 

 What if his pigs were noticeable ? " Pigs ain't pizen," he 

 said. I dare say, to him, by reason of associations with 

 his bank account, they were sweeter than violets. 

 Personally we should never keep pigs for choice, no matter 

 how interested we might be in farming. However we 

 might insist on the spotless condition of their dwelling- 

 place, however affectionately we might invite them to the 

 frequent bath and rejoice at the clean pink of their skins, 

 the horror of the moment of inevitable parting would 

 always be before us. 



A near relation of ours was the centre of a certain horrid 

 little anecdote, likewise connected with pigs, that is never- 

 theless humorous enough. It happened in Dorset, in a 

 picturesque manor-house, the walled gardens of which abut 

 on a comely, prosperous farm. One April morning the 

 air was rent with the agonizing clamours of protesting 

 pigs / and she, whose tender heart suffered with the pain 

 of every animal, was rent too with compassion. 

 " Oh, what/ 7 she cried to her hostess, who was also her 

 daughter, " what can Mr. Boyt be doing to the poor, poor 

 pigs ? Oh ! Polly, I'm afraid he's killing them ! " 

 Polly was not at all sure in her own mind that this was 

 not the case, but she was stout in asseverations to the 

 contrary. 



" Oh, dear no, darling / nobody ever kills pigs this time 

 of year. They're just cleaning out the sties, that's all. 

 YOU" know what pigs are, darling/' 



115 



