Some Beasts of Reproach. 95 



Nor unfamiliar is the mud-mashed comer, b7 the farm- 

 yard gate, where Gay's " batt'ning hogs roll in the sinking 

 mire," — for your " pig is a philosopher, who knows no pre- 

 judice." 



But Blomfield is emphatically the poet of the pig, and 

 some of his vignettes are delightful Thus the indolent pig 

 being tickled by geese — 



" As when by turns the strolling swine engage 

 The utmost efforts of the gander's rage. 

 Whose nibbling warfare on the grunter's side 

 Is welcome pleasure to his bristly hide ; 

 Gently he sleeps, or stretched at ease along. 

 Enjoys the insults of the gabbling throng 

 That march exulting round his fallen head." 



Or this other of the frequently occurring panic among 

 piglings— 



*' No more the swains with scatter'd grain supply 

 The restless wandering inmates of the sty ; 

 From oak to oak they run with eager haste ; 

 And wrangling share the first delicious taste 

 Of fallen acorns ; 



The trudging sow leads forth her numerous youngs 

 Playful, white and clean, the briars among ; 

 Till briars and thorns increasing fence them around. 



With bristles raised the sudden noise they hear. 

 And ludicrously wild, and wing'd with fear, 

 The herd decamp with more than swinish speed. 

 And snorting dash thro' sedge, and rush, and reed ; 

 Through tangling thickets headlong on they go, 

 Then stop and listen for the fancied foe. 

 The hindmost still the grunting panic spreads." 



Clare, too, was a pig-observer, and here is an excellent 

 touch of the evening farmyard — 



*' Hogs with grumbling deafening noise 

 Bother round the server boys, 

 And far and near the motley group 

 Anxious claim them suppering up : 



