Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
terms, while wind-root and Mayflower were posting 
the fact on their low banks, and the Razor-back 
wandered from under the barn, blinking her pale- 
lashed eyes. Pensively nosing the ground, she 
passed by untouched some corn that she certainly 
smelled, and, a day before, would have gobbled. 
But she was uneasy and nosed about till she reached 
the “branch” where she drank deeply. Still 
swinging slowly, she crossed the stream, and wan- 
dered into the woods. She listened hard, and looked 
back once or twice, then changed her course, 
crossed the brook twice more—yes, that is their 
way when they shun pursuit—and wandered on 
till, far in the shades, she reached an upturned tree 
root. She had been there before, and the layer of 
grass and leaves showed the beginnings of a bed. 
After sniffing it over, she set about gathering more 
grass, stopping like a statue occasionally when 
some strange sound was wind-borne to her ears. 
Once or twice she moved away, but each time re- 
turned to lie down uneasily in the nest she ha‘ 
prepared. 
Oh Mother, All-mother Nature that lays suc 
heavy hand upon maternity in towns, where hel 
is near! How kind thou art to the wildwoo 
beast that all alone must face the ordeal. Ho 
doubly blest is she, in strength and soon delive 
