OCR Text |
Show THE Y. O. T. CLUB. Recently there was organized in Logan, with headquarters at the establishment of J----Esq. (Esquire), an association bearing the paradoxical name of the "Youthful Old Timers' Club." At the last meeting held Saturday evening the discourse turned on humorous remembrances and finally culminated in "driving stock." Many were the jokes told and great the laughter created. As the hour drew near for adjournment - and at the time when conversation had reached the subject of porcine animal, the president of the club, who was also the proprietor of the room, gave utterance as follows: What I know about driving pigs. I don't mean driving sense into them - but just driving them along toward where you want ‘em. Listen now, to the practical part: Your humble servant once undertook to drive one of these "critters" one hundred miles; and - well, I did it with a slight exception of time, during which period, I dragged him by the hind leg. No humble creature but myself and the pig (which by the way don't happen to be human,) will ever fully know the trials we passed through. What made it worse, we never could agree about direction; and there was always trouble when we came to crossroads. A fellow seldom or never gets lonesome when driving or being driven by a pig. His attention is pretty well occupied from the time he starts out until he gives out - and he is dead sure to give out; but the pig never does, at least this hog didn't. He was of the gray hound build and was reared during the hard times. Why, bless your soul! I have known that pig to scale a five rail fence and carry me along like a kite tail. He always jumped fences when he came to them although there was no occasion for it; for he was so thin, he could crawl between two pickets and never bark his shins either. But he preferred jumping. One day he undertook to jump a river and would have made the ??? tifile ??? if I had not braced myself and held fast to the rope; so he only succeeded in getting half way. The current was strong and he was soon carried down to the end of the rope, and hanging head down stream while I held him with the rope by the hind leg, and he was going round like a swivel. I labored hard to extricate him. I knew mighty well, if he was drowned it would be a sad loss to the community, as there was not another like him to be found. But this adventure took a great deal of the conceit out of him; although I could see no difference in his appearance with the exception of his hind leg, (the one the rope was tied to) but that was six inches longer than the other. This pig's appetite was always good - whenever there was anything to eat. One night he ate my shoes and socks and took the whip for desert. I suppose he preferred that latter inside his skin. I could tell you a great deal more about our journey - how he used to lie down in every mud hole we came to and make me lie down with him, and how he would run into every road side cabin and take me along to introduce him, but let this be enough; and if ever any one of the "Youthfuls" should have to start on a journey like that one just call around and I will give you a hint of a few tricks that pigs in this degenerate age don't know about. |