BEATRICE ANNOUNCES 



them instead of expecting them to fight for her. 

 Good for Beatrice ! 

 "Woof ! woof ! woof !" 



In spite of her high state of belligerency, Beatrice 

 is evidently very proud of her interesting family. 

 Others may be able to boast larger families, but none 

 can boast a plumper or lustier brood. (Nine seems 

 to be the right and mystic number with swine. 

 Hasn't Shakespeare something about a sow and 

 "her nine farrow"?) They were ready to fight for 

 their rights and squeal their protests for fair play 

 before they were an hour old. Every one who has 

 approached the pen to have a peep at them acknowl- 

 edges that they are little beauties. They have the 

 irresistible charm of youth which can make even 

 the young of a rattlesnake interesting if not lov- 

 able. Beatrice has every reason to be proud of 

 them, though there doesn't seem to be any reason for 

 being so gruff about it. A couple of weeks ago 

 The Globe accused me editorially of being lacking 

 in love for Beatrice. I admit the charge, but claim 

 that this is a merciful provision of nature. Pigs 

 are only lovable when they are small and plump and 

 roly-poly. Our love for them does not endure, 



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