THE RAZORBACK 133 
some neighbor takes a better bunch of hogs to 
market, or gets a better price for them, than I 
do, I may be persuaded to think as he talks. 
Thus far I have sold close to the top of the mar- 
ket, and my hogs are never left over. 
Perhaps my hogs eat more than those of my 
neighbors. I hope they do, for they weigh more, 
on a “weight for age” scale, and I do not think 
they are “air crammed,” for “ you cannot fatten 
capons so.” I am more than satisfied with my 
Chester Whites. They have given me a fine 
profit each year, and I should be ungrateful if I 
did not speak them fair. _ 
I wished to get the hog industry started on a 
liberal scale, and scoured the country, by letter, 
for the necessary animals. I found it difficult 
to get just what I wanted. Perhaps I wanted 
too much. This is what I asked for: A regis- 
tered young sow due to farrow her second litter 
in March or April. By dint of much correspond- 
ence and a considerable outlay of money, I finally 
secured nineteen animals that answered the re- 
quirements. I got them in twos and threes from 
scattered sources, and they cost an average price 
of $31 per head delivered at Four Oaks. A 
young boar, bred in the purple, cost $27. My 
foundation herd of Chester Whites thus cost me 
$614, too much for an economical start; but, 
again, I was in a hurry. 
The hogs began to arrive in February, and were 
put into temporary quarters pending the building 
