Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
grown, shaped in body and limbs like a Deer, and 
clad in a close coat of glistening grizzly hair that 
flashed in the sun when the weather was right, but 
now was thickly sprinkled with the reddish dust 
of the old Virginia highway. 
Down the long pike she trotted, swinging her 
sensitive nose, cocking her ears to this or that 
sound, running some trace a while, like an eager Fox, 
or making a careful smell study of posts that edged 
her trail, or marked the trails of offshoot. 
An hour, and another hour, she journeyed 
on, with the steady tireless trot of a searching 
Razor-back, alert to every promise offered by her 
senses. 
The miles reeled by, she was now in Mayo Val- 
ley, but still kept on. Now she found a good 
rubbing post. It seemed somewhat pleasing to 
her, she used it well, but soon went on. 
What was she doing? 
How often we can explain some animal act by 
looking into ourselves. There comes a time in 
the life of every man and woman when they are 
filled with a yearning to go forth into the world 
and seek their fortune. And the wise say, ‘Let 
them go!” This same impulse comes on wild 
things, and the wise ones go. This, then, is what 
Grizel was doing. She was seeking her fortune. 
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