114 WE FARM FOR A HOBBY 



kept both ham and bacon through hot weather. 

 Over the north wing of Tavern House is an attic 

 open at the eaves. It gets fearfully hot but appar- 

 ently this does not matter much: the important 

 thing is the circulation of fresh air. In damp 

 weather the meat gets mouldy on the outside, 

 which does no damage if it is scraped and washed 

 off before cooking. There is even one school of 

 hamologists says a ham is not ready to eat until 

 after it has grown its first coat of mould. 



I started my piggery with two young animals, 

 just weaned a sow and a barrow. A barrow, to 

 borrow Mr. Charles Browne's definition of a ca- 

 pon, is a boar that has given up hope. They came 

 on the place in the spring of 1933. That fall we 

 bred the gilt (young female pig) , and we have 

 been growing our own ever since. So far my in- 

 vestment in pens is nothing but time: they have 

 been built of the scrap lumber that mysteriously 

 and constantly accumulates on the farm, but I 

 foresee a day when something different must be 

 done. For at the present writing we have, in addi- 

 tion to the brood sow, five adult pigs including 

 one that belongs to my man and eight sucklings. 

 Two of the adults will be sold off, on the hoof, 

 and the other three will be worked up, before the 

 winter is out. Nevertheless the herd seems to grow 

 steadily. 



The explanation is that we have a good brood 



