Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
crouched in dull, motionless despair. Then Liz- 
ette’s own nurse came with a feeding bottle. Foam 
kicked, squealed, and champed his jaws, but strong 
hands wrapped him up in a cloth. The bottle 
feeder was put to his open mouth. It was warm 
and sweet. He was oh! so hungry now! He could 
no more help sucking than any other baby could, 
and when the bottle was empty, he slept the long 
sweet sleep he so much needed. 
When you help some one it always makes you 
love that some one very much; so of course Lizette 
was now devoted to little Foam; but he knew her 
only as a big dangerous thing, and hated her. Yet 
not for long. He was an intelligent little Razor- 
back; and before his tail had the beginning of 
a curl he learned that “Lizette” meant “food,” so 
he rose each time to meet her. Next he found he 
could bring Lizette—that is, food—if he squealed, 
and thenceforth his daily practice developed a 
mighty voice. 
In a week his shyness was gone. He was now 
transferred to a stall in the stable. In a month he 
was tame as a cat and loved to have his back 
scratched, and the large wound on his nose was 
healed, though it left an ugly scar. 
Then two companions entered his life, a duck and 
a lamb, strange creatures that Foam inspected nar- 
28 
