I BUY MY PIGS 7 



ration of the earth was entirely out of the ques- 

 tion, except by the use of high explosives, and I 

 was far too modest to try any such innovation 

 as dynamitic ploughing. 



So I would fain content myself with raising a 

 few pigs and hens until the gladsome spring was 

 at hand. I had really set my heart on pigs. Pigs 

 were so comfortable, so good-natured, and so 

 delightfully lazy. I respected and admired that 

 trait. I was lazy, and had my circumstances in 

 life permitted full indulgence in that most ami- 

 able of virtues, I would undoubtedly have done 

 little more than to eat, sleep, and cultivate my 

 mind by omnivorous but light reading. 



But unfortunately my financial state had been 

 such that I was, and had been from the time 

 when I burst upon a large and unappreciative 

 community as a sort of reincarnated chrysalis 

 attorney-at-law, compelled to spend a large part 

 of my waking hours in that sort of practice which 

 is commonly spoken of as active; why active, I 

 cannot say. Consequently, not being able to give 

 free rein to my slothful yearnings, I could respect 

 and envy its possession in pigs, and pigs I was 

 determined to have. 



Now my wife objected strongly to pigs, and 

 when informed of my intentions, delivered quite 

 a masterly argument on the subject. I was in- 

 formed that pigs were filthy, nasty animals, al- 



