XXXV.— Feeding Time 



PIG feeding is now the noisiest function on the 

 farm. The little pigs are taking their share 

 of skim milk and chop feed from the trough, 

 and when their complaining falsetto is added 

 to the guttural roar of their mother there is an in- 

 tolerable racket on the place. Being every bit as 

 greedy as she is, they pile into the trough so that 

 it is almost impossible to get the feed before them. 

 As Beatrice is always consumed by an ambition to 

 get her nose into the pail while the food is being 

 poured the work of feeding is accompanied by much 

 kicking and language. As this interesting family 

 has the run of the barnyard its members have con- 

 siderable scope for enjoyment. The recent rains 

 have made possible a number of satisfactory wal- 

 lows, and the little pigs get as thoroughly plastered 

 as their mother. I am not sure whether their care- 

 free condition excites envy, but I do know that they 

 are not obliged to have their ears washed and they 

 can go to bed without having their feet scrubbed — 



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