November 24, 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER; 
868 
THE TRUE PARABLE OF THE MODERN 
PRODIGAL SON. 
Once upon a time an Illinois husbandman with a 
discernment that bordered on the miraculous perceived 
that his younger son was endowed with those rare es¬ 
sentials of body and mind that fitted him to go into the 
fields to feed swine. So he divided his living, or rather 
the work of securing it, and placed the son at the head 
of' that department. Though still a boy lie had full 
control. He selected the breeding stock and was ex¬ 
pected to see that the hogs had plenty to eat and drink, 
especially on Fourth of July and the days he wanted 
to go fishing. Thus it came to pass that the son was 
literally brought up with the hogs, and to this day he 
would rather associate with a bunch of decent hogs 
THE IMAGE OF FATHER. Fig. 376. 
than a good many of the same order of genus homo 
that he knows about. He has never seen a hog—or 
for that.matter any four-footed animal, unless it was 
some dissipated billy goat—that was mean and “or¬ 
nery” enough to chew tobacco for example. 
Now in those days a “hog plant” consisted of the 
sunny side of a straw stack in Winter, and a “hog 
lot” in Summer. The hog lot comprised three-quarters 
of an acre of absolutely bare ground. The only vege¬ 
tation it contained was a burdock in one corner and 
a Jimson-weed in another. It was a feast or a famine 
with the hog. Until the corn was sold he fared pretty 
well. After that his diet was largely angleworms. 
The women were expected to see that he got green 
apples and potato peelings and weeds from the garden 
—when they didn’t forget it. As a relish he had soapy 
dishwater. In process of time he became a very re¬ 
spectable though somewhat venerable hog. It didn’t 
take the son long—being unusually bright as we have 
seen—to conclude that while a hog could be raised in 
the manner described, from the point of his nose to the 
twist in his tail there was no profit in him. Besides 
times began to change. The dairy, once the mainstay 
of the pigs, dwindled to two small Jersey cows, and 
the hogs began to sniff suspiciously at the buttermilk 
when it was put in the trough. Help became scarce, and 
became a factor in the work, for we may say without 
fear of successful contradiction, as the “spellbinders” 
say, that when a man has worked for 12 to 14 hours 
A FAMOUS WYANDOTTE HEN. Fig. 377. 
in the field he has neither the time nor inclination- 
after supper—to pull “pusley” enough to supply a 
drove of hungry pigs. Manifestly, something must be 
done, or the son would lose his job, and that wouldn’t 
do, for it was destined—it was so nominated in the 
bond—that he should be a hog breeder. 
About that time he read in a farm paper that an 
acre of clover, if pastured, would produce 600 pounds 
of pork in a season; that if 12 shotes were turned on 
said acre without anything else but water they would 
gain 50 pounds each. This did not seem unreasonable, 
and as pork seldom brings less than four cents live 
weight one quick at figures would see that this meant 
$24 at least for the acre, with very little labor and a 
benefit to the land. As feed and money were scarce 
he took some barbed wire and fenced the cow pasture 
hog-tight. The neighbors looked askance and tapped 
their heads when they went by, but the hogs enjoyed 
it, and the cost of fencing was saved several times that 
season. This led gradually to a somewhat improved 
condition. Let us admit that our conditions are by 
no means ideal—that any of you could beat it if you 
tried, and in fact any reader of The R. N.-Y. also can 
produce a 300-pound pig in four months has us beaten 
a mile, our only success being the production of cheap 
pork with a minimum of labor. There are now 50 
acres fenced hog-tight, to which 30 can be added tem¬ 
porarily if desired. Only 20 of these are permanent 
pasture, and this supports four or five cattle, three 
brood mares and all the work horses on Sundays. The 
rest is in clover meadow now, and will be kept so as 
far as possible. 
In Winter the larger hogs “follow” the steers, of 
which 30 to 50 are fed. The straw bedded yard with 
barn and open shed and a feed floor inside in case of 
wet weather make a very comfortable place to stay. 
There is a breeding shed 18 x 60 facing the south, with 
windows seven feet high on south and four feet on 
north side, shingled roof, rather flat, for greater 
warmth. Sixteen feet at one end is a feeding floor 
paved with brick and in one corner of this the steam 
cooker is fenced in, also a small tank of water fed by 
underground pipes from barnyard tank. A six-foot 
alley, brick floor, runs along the whole length, and 
pens with dirt floor, long and rather narrow, opening 
in the alley take up the rest of the room. No feed is 
bought except four to eight tons of middlings at a cost 
of $15 to $18 a ton. 
BREEDING STOCK.—From the largest and best 
litters of some favorite family the little females are 
marked by a notch in the ear. It hurts at the time, 
but as it adds a year or so to their lives they forgive 
this. In the Fall round-up when the wheat is separated 
from the chaff the best of these remain with the Fall 
pigs, and hence are fed. through the Winter, more 
largely on middling slop. They are bred to farrow in 
August, being then approximately 16 months old; when 
this litter is weaned, bred again for April pigs. If 
one had quarters absolutely safe no pig is like a Feb¬ 
ruary pig, but here the mortality is too great. The 
bleak winds of March are about the worst things an 
infant pig can encounter. After the second litter is 
weaned the sows go into the fattening bunch. Occa¬ 
sionally one may be kept longer, but if so she must 
show unusual inclination to “acquire merit,” as Kipling 
would say. For the head of the herd a large-boned 
pig, well "matured, from a large litter, most of which 
were raised, is selected. When not in service he has 
a half-acre pasture containing six-foot square house 
with usually some “cull” for companion. If the first 
litters prove satisfactory both in size and vitality he is 
kept as long as possible without inbreeding. 
THE HISTORY OF AN ILLINOIS FAT-BACK.— 
When the infant porker discovers America during the 
first two weeks of April it is in one of the pens of the 
hoghouse. There is plenty of straw and plenty to eat, 
and he is on velvet from the start. His mother is fed 
rather scantily at first—depending somewhat on the 
size of the litter—with a little corn and wheat middlings 
slop, but this is gradually increased to full feed. He 
early learns one lesson never forgotten—namely, if he 
doesn’t grab his dinner at the first opportunity some 
brother or sister will get in ahead, and it pays to be 
first when the call to meals is extended. Whenjhe is 
10 days to two weeks old the door of the pen is left 
open during the day, and his mother is allowed to go 
out and pick at the early grass. In a few days lie 
ventures out into the alley and “scraps” with his little 
neighbors, and for pure ferocity and yet harmless re¬ 
sults their mix-ups are hard to match. In a few days 
more, tempted by the warm sunshine, he strolls out with 
his mother, gets his first bite of the new grass, and 
begins to realize his mission. He wonders also what 
it is that makes his mother rush for the trough when 
the cooked middlings are turned in, and gets a taste 
for himself. Some day he happens to creep under a 
board lately nailed across one end of the house, and 
finds some soft shelled corn and some slop which he 
proceeds to annex. He isn’t fed too much, because he 
would get too fat, and would not care quite so much 
to rustle for a living. His motto is not “root hog or 
die,” for when he indulges in that his nose is orna¬ 
mented with jewelry, eat grass or die would come near 
being riglit. Time goes by, the grass begins to dry 
up, likewise his natural food, and one day he finds 
a gate mysteriously opened, and remembering his early 
training he hikes out into the young clover, which 
has sprung up on purpose for him after the hay was 
put up. He does not get much corn now, but the 
clover is good and he doesn’t mind. After six or eight 
weeks of this diet he finds a new ear of corn, which 
tastes about the best of anything he ever had, and he 
fills himself up almost to overflowing and thrives 
mightily. When the early Winter comes and his best 
friend, the grass, is killed for the season, he is shut 
in the steeryard to clean up the waste. If it happens 
that he is rather fat and “pudgy” at this time he is fed 
more corn than the cattle waste—all the drove will eat 
up clean—with a hearty drink of middlings a day; and 
ends his day early in the Spring; 52 such pigs sold on 
February 28, 1906, weighed 13,330 in Chicago yards, 
and sold at $6.37 x / 2 , within five cents of the “top.” If 
at the beginning of Winter he is thrifty but not too 
fat he gets but little more than the waste frorn^ the 
cattle, with middlings to drink, and about April 15 
goes out again to grass and plenty of soaked shelled 
corn, and is sold in June. 
The Fall pig comes into being in the same pen. The 
house is fairly cool in Summer, and free from flies. 
The adjoining pasture is picking up again with the Sum¬ 
mer rains, as the main drove, consisting of the previous 
Fall and the Spring pigs have gone into the clover, 
so that he gets the same start as did his cousin in the 
Spring. When the new corn comes on he is ready for 
his share, and can look out for himself when the grass 
season is over. Then he gets two fairly satisfying 
feeds of middlings and corn a day. He comes out in 
the Spring thin, but thrifty and ready for business on 
THIRTY-POUND WHITE HOLLAND GOBBLER. Fig. 378. 
the pasture, with a small feed of corn. Then the clover 
completes his growth, and when the new corn is ready 
he goes into a feeding pen for a month or six weeks’ 
finish on all the corn he can stuff; 38 of these, includ¬ 
ing eight old sows, sold at $6.35, the top for “mixed 
packers” on October 26, 1906, and weighed 11,570. The 
90 head sold during the present year averaged 276, 
and cleared over shipping expenses $1,550. Just $80 
were spent for feed, and while the com could only be 
estimated we think 1,500 bushels would be liberal. A _ 
chemical analysis of that lot of pigs should show 75 
per cent grass, 20 per cent corn and five per cent 
middlings. 
One favorable item is the work expended. During 
the busy season about six minutes a day are allowed. 
Middlings are merely soaked over night. Most of the 
work is done in the Winter, and combines pleasure 
with profit. It is a pleasure to shovel out a feed of 
corn in the barnyard, and watch the pigs leave their 
sun bath to eat it. It is a delight on a cold Winter 
day to hear the throbbing of the steam cooker and 
watch the middlings bubble in the barrel. It is a joy 
to see the drove, every one of which, like Hamlet’s - 
ghost might a “tale unfold,” lined up at the gate wait¬ 
ing to be let in for their cooked feed. It is an exhilara¬ 
tion to watch the mad rush when the gate is opened, 
and every pig tries to be first at the trough. It was 
especially exhilarating on one occasion when the writer 
slipped and fell right in front of the approaching stam¬ 
pede. Our gentle readers - will; never know how near 
they came to losing this article ...unless they shut their 
“TOO HANDSOME TO KILL” ! TWO-YEAR-OLD BRONZE 
GOBBLER; 37 POUNDS. Fig. 379. 
eyes and imagine the position of a man with 60 pig s - 
each one of which seemed to weigh a ton, rushing oyer 
him. We have been in our share of football scrim¬ 
mages, and on one occasion had to be carried off “on a 
shutter,” but we never tried to buck that kind of a 
line before. And finally, brethren, let us hear the con¬ 
clusion of the whole matter. For the man who would 
raise cheap pork there exist middlings, corn and pas¬ 
ture, these three, but the greatest of these is pasture. 
Illinois. A * E - P RICE * 
