Jim Lawson's Hogs
WHEN it cum to raisin' hogs, I don't s'pose
thar wuz ever enybody in Punkin Centre that had
quite so much trouble as Jim Lawson. One fall
Jim had a right likely bunch of shoats, but
somehow or other he couldn't git 'em fat,
it jist seemed like the more he fed 'em the
poorer they got, and Jim he wuz jist about
worried clar down to a shadder. He kept
givin' them hogs medecin' and feedin' of
'em everything he could think on, but it
wan't no use; every day or so one of 'em
would lay down and die. All the neighbors
would cum and lean over the fence, and
talk to Jim, and give him advice, but somehow
them hogs jist kept on a-dyin', and nobody
could see what wuz alin' of 'em, 'til
one day Jim cum over to Ezra Hoskins's
store, and he looked as tickled as though
he'd found a dollar, and he sed: "I want
you all to cum over to my place; I've found
out what's alin' them hogs." Deacon
Witherspoon sed: "Wall, what is it,
Jim?" and Jim sed: "Wall, you see the
ground over in my hog lot is purty soft, and
when it rains it gits right smart muddy, and
the mud gits on them hogs' tails, and that
mud it gits more mud, and finally they git
so much mud on their tails that it draws
their skin so tight that they can't shet their
eyes, and them hogs air jist a-dyin' fer the
want of sleep.
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