Life — February 28, 1895 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LIFE: AT Se1S§R Af WLly “1 went down into the Black Belt shortly after the war, when it was a good deal blacker than it isnow, It was in central Alabama, The niggers, gentlemen, were so thick that they actually darkened the landscape. The whole region was gloomy with Mricans, It seemed like a partial eglipse of the sun all the while. | hada plan at one time to set up reflectors about, here and there, to lighten up things a little, but I never carried it out. I said that [ engaged in hog-raising. 1 did, buc I did not grow the native razor-back variety. You know the old Southern excuse for this style of swine—that it doesn't pay to raise a hog that can't run faster than a nigger. Still I determined to grow the obese style of porker which we see in the fashion plates of the agricultural papers.” Jones paused, and pufled reflectively at his cigar. “As Twas saying, gentlemen, | determined to raise portly, short-legged hogs. 1 knew what I had to contend with.” I owned at that time a fine full-blooded bull-dog named the Whited Sepulchre. He was a very intelligent beast, and game. I sent to New Orleans and had made a rubber hog—that is, a rubber bag which, when inflated, had the exact outlines of one of my fine swine. It was light, strong and pliable. I put this on my dog precisely as a diver puts on his suit. [allowed the animal's feet, nose, and eyes to remain on the outside ; and then I blew up this artificial skin with a small bellows. It transformed him into a very presentable half-grown blooded pig. A farmer or stock-raiser could no doubt have distinguished him from the genuine article, but believe that he would have deceived the editor of an agricultural paper. 1 then trained him to stay with my swine, but not to run off with them when they were frightened. In fact, intelligent as the beast was, I doubt if I could have taught him to run from any- thing. The chapter on ‘The Retreat’ seemed to have been lost from that dog’s book of military tactics. The first evening I had my hogs turned out in the pasture in charge of my inflated dog 1 determined to watch the proceedings. The swine were busily en- kaxed in hunting for pecan-nuts, when a friend and brother in the guise of a large colored person with a fondness for fresh pork emerged from some neighboring brush. Instinct seemed to teach all of those hogs except one to make off as fast as their short and largely ornamental legs would carry them. The dark voter came up rapidly, and started to fall upon this loitering swine, Gentlemen, | was myself startled to see that hog rear on its hind legs, utter a deep, blood-curdling bark, and leap for the throat of the gentleman from Alias. He just missed, and the nigger turned and ran as I never saw another free American citizen run before or since. The Whited Sepulchre kept close behind, giving vent to hollow barks. They crashed away through the underbrush and were lost to sight. In a half hour the dog returned, and I was alarmed to see a calm expression of satisfaction in his eye which made me fear the worst. However, | conducted my hog plantation for two years and never missed a hog. I cleared $30,:co, bat lost it all the next year on a pop-corn farm in Kentucky."—Harper's Weekly. Twas talking with the old colored man, who was watching the big pile of bacon on the depot platform, when a very black but very tidy-looking young woman came down from the passenger depot and said : “Twas wantin’ to go down to Demopolis dis eavenin’, but can’t find out "bout de trains.” What yo’ wanter know about trains ?” asked the old man as he looked her over “+L wanter find out when de train goes, of co’se,” she replied. “Huh! Didn't yo" see dat time table posted up in de depot ?- What we git out dat time table fur onless folks am gwine to read it?” **Reckon yo' might tell me,” she said as she turned away. “Reckon T_might tell fo" hundred people a day, but I shan't do it. from, eh?” “| Why. don't yo" dun know yo'r own family 2” she exclaimed. ‘Own family? How own family? 1 nebber dun sot eyes on yo" befo “Dat's kase I wasn't home when yo' dun married my ma last Tuesday. down to Demopolis an’ couldn't cum home.” . “Huh, Yo'don't say. Yes, | married Mrs. Green last Tuesda: counted up nine children, but I didn’t see yo’. ‘So yo" am my stepdarter + Reckon so.” “ An’ I'ze you stepfadder >” “ Dat's what ma says.”” ; “Huh. Dat takes my breaf away. Waal, young woman, I'ze gwine fur to tell yo dat de train far Demopolis leaves yere at 5 o'clock, an’ furdermore, dat _yo'r mudder has dun made a mighty narrer escape.” “What's gwine to hurt my ma 2” she asked. “Nuffin’ gwine to hurt her now, nuffin ‘tall, but yo’ jest presume to consider, an’ don't yo' forgit it, dat if T had sot eyes'on yo’ two minits befo' | got jined to yo'r mudder yo' would now be my wife an’ she would have been lef'."—Terre Haute Express. Whar yo’ cun 1 was an’ I'ze don For sale by all Newstealers in Great Britain. The Inter — mal Ne Krream’s Building, Chancery Lane, ECROPEAN AOENTS—Memra Brentano, 37 Avenue de TOpers, Paris; Saarbach's News Exchange, 1 ‘Ciarmérame, Mayence, Germany, Agents for Germany, Austria and Switzerland. 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He could not even tell whether the United States was republic or a monarchy. Finally the instructor in despair asked him to name the Governor of Massachusetts. “don’t know,” said the boy, “+ Well,” said the teacher, wearily, “ when you see your father this evening to tell you Next day young Russell came to school again, and the instructor asked him if he ha found out who was Governor of Massachusetts, ** Yes,” replied the boy. ** Father says that he is Governor, but he is such a liar tha! I don't know whether to believe him or not.”—Exchanee. LEVIS. FEUKSRURY Banker, 50 Broadway, New York, Buys and sells Bills of Exchange on all parts of the worl comicbooks.com $1 he