Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
pins in it; it tumbled him heels over head, scratched 
and even bleeding. His yaps of glorious victory 
were changed into howls and yelps of dire defeat. 
Foam was on him again. The cur sought to escape; 
limping, howling through a mouthful of plundered 
feathers, he raced around the shed with Foam be- 
hind, then out the door, and through the weeds. A 
cur with a tail all tin-bedecked went never more 
loudly or more fast, and where or how he cleared 
the fence was almost overquick for certain seeing, 
and whence he came, or whither he went, was far 
from sure—only this: that his yelping died away in 
the woods and no more was seen of him. 
Lizette and her father both were on hand. Their 
dumb astonishment at the unexpected quality dis- - 
covered in the little Razor-back was followed by wild 
hilarity at the discomfort of the cur, and his ignomin- 
ious flight before the roused and valorous Foam. 
They went into the garden, and the pig came run- 
ning to them. Lizette was a little in awe of him 
at first, but he was now no longer a fighting demon. 
just a funny rollicking little Razor-back, and whe 
she wondered what he would do next, and whi 
~Pyshe should do, he held up both his feet on a benc 
that she might give them their morning coat « 
polish, and stuck his nose so tight between the 
that she gave that a coat of blacking, too. 
34 
