128 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
Hundreds have praised the rasher of ham, and 
thousands the flitch of bacon; it took the stroke 
of but one pen to make roast pig classical. 
The pig of to-day is so unlike his distant pro- 
genitor that he would not be recognized ; if by 
any chance he were recognized, it would be only 
with a grunt of scorn for his unwieldy shape 
and his unenterprising spirit. Gone are the 
fleet legs, great head, bulky snout, terrible jaws, 
warlike tusks, open nostrils, flapping ears, gaunt 
flanks, and racing sides; and with these has gone 
everything that told of strength, freedom, and 
wild life. In their place has come a cuboidal 
mass, twice as long as it is broad or high, with 
a place in front for mouth and eyes, and a fool- 
ish-looking leg under each corner. A mighty 
fall from “freedom’s lofty heights,” but a won- 
derfully improved machine. The modern hog is 
to his progenitor as the man with the steam- 
hammer to the man with the stone-hammer, — 
infinitely more useful, though not so free. 
It is not easy to overestimate the value of 
swine to the general farmer; but to the factory 
farmer they are indispensable. They furnish a 
profitable market for much that could not be 
sold, and they turn this waste material into a 
surprising lot of money in a marvellously short 
time. A pig should reach his market before he 
is nine months old. From the time he is new- 
born until he is 250 days old, he should gain at 
least one pound a day, which means five cents, 
————— ee ee oe 
