Foam—A Razot-Backed Hog 
Boar, the click of weapons, the hideous rumbled 
hate, the animal heaving sounds, the screech and 
chop, the flying mist of hair, the maze of swift and 
desperate act, the drop to almost calm, then the 
slash, slash, slash with sounds of rending pelt and 
breaking bone, and tossing of a limp form here and 
there, or the holding of it with both forefeet while 
it is mangled yet again. 
The Boar grew calm, his battle madness went, 
and the little pigs came, one by one, to sniff and 
snort andrunaway. ‘They had added another that 
day to their catalogue of smells. 
And Runtie, he was lying deep in the brush on the 
other side of the stump. His mother came and 
nosed him over and nudged him gently and walked 
away and came again to nudge. But the brothers 
were lively and thirsty: she must go on with them. 
She raged against the fierce brute that had killed 
her little one. She lingered about, then led the 
others to the brook. Then they all came back. 
The little ones were once more merry and riotous, 
The mother came to nudge and coax the limp and 
bloody form, but its eyes had glazed. The father 
tossed the furry trash aside, and then all passed on. 
These things the Turkey-buzzard saw, and I 
would I had his eyes, for this was a chapter in the 
story of Foam and Grizel that was told only by the 
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