66 OUT-OF-TOWN PLACES. 



corner, who squeals his entreaty, and declares thanka 

 with the click-clack of his active jaws. 



" He will take on larger and clumsier proportions 

 month by month, and will be none the worse for the 

 occasional carding which your zealous Irishman can 

 afford him in spare hours ; and when, in the month 

 of October or November, the waste growth of the 

 garden is abating, and the frost has nipped the bean- 

 tops, and laid your tomatoes in a black sprawl upon 

 the ground, your Suffolk (with, say, one or two addi- 

 tional bags of mixed feed) should be ripe for the 

 knife. 



" My advice, at this conjuncture, would be sell 

 him to the butcher. Those who like pig flesh better 

 would give you rules for cut and curing. But, while 

 I have considerable respect for the pork family when 

 fairly afoot and showing grateful appreciation of the 

 delights of life and of a full trough, I have very little 

 consideration for the same animals when baked or 

 stewed. Charles Lamb's pleasant eulogium on roast 

 pig is one of the most terrible instigators of indiges- 

 tion that I know ; and I want no better theory for 

 that charming writer's occasional periods of bitter 

 despondency, than to suppose him to have dined ' at 

 seven, sharp,' upon the dish he has so pleasantly and 

 fearfully extolled. 



" I do not mean to say that exception is not to be 



