The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1882-10-18
Butler Scratches the Pigs.

IL Is TerreSnlnU from TINS distance W
look beyond the vexed fields of New
York to the green pastures of Massa-
chusetts, where The peaceful and bucolic
Butler is engaged in the soothing and
time -honored pastime of scratching the
pigs at county fairs. He is reported to
be in a state of mental perturbation
over the question of accepting the DEM
ocratic nomination for Governor. and
so he seeks the placid retreats of the
cattle shows and pacilies his lofty emo
tjons amid the lowing of Jersey heifers
and the arunting of swine, as Chyrses
of old found comfort in walking by the
shore of the sea and meditating upon
the sacrificial bullocks and fat rams.
In the words OF the poet:
Ben Butler Is an old seG-fariny man
Who loves the rough paths of the o-cc-an,
and it seemed doubtful at first whether
he could ut once step from the deck of
his yacht after long summer voyage,
put off his rolling gait, forget all about
his sea-legs and turn land-lubber at
once; but The great protean statesman
OF Massachusetts is equal 10 any emer-
gency. and so he goes about making
speeches, friends and votes among the
rural population of the hills and valleys
of his adopted State. In the east he
hloSOhiSCS WAN AnO
farmer ON the merits of sugar beets, fiat
turnips and W,nningstadt cabbages; in
the river country he brings up reminis-
cences of Bloody Brook and of the
ghostly appearance of the regicide at
Hadley, and tells what he knows about
the exhaustion of soil by the tobacco
crop, while further west he is full of
information about fine wooled sheep
and the merits of the ancient breed of
speckled Berkshire hogs. Whether it
takes a bushel OF corn to raise upon that
animal the ornamental but useless ap-
pendage of a long, curly tail, or whether
il is worth while on the score of econo-
my to rob the adolescent porker of
what will never even wag to good pur-
pose or make u tolerable whistle, is one
of the problems which Just now are not
considered unworthy of the Butler in-
tellect. In the lore of short-horns and
big udders the captain of the America
is said to be surprisingly well read, and
he loves a trotting horse well enough, il
his size would permit. TO don a close
fitting cap with a broad visor and play
riding-jocSey in n race.
The great Benjamin likes to grasp the
horny hand of the son of toll, and the
honest granger can slap his broad back
the details of family history, inquiries
about the farmers wives and pats tile
children on the head. 1t is 4 mercy if
he does not even kiss them.
All these things General Butler does
because he loves the tillers of the land.
| At some other time he may have a
weakness for mill hands and even for
day laborers, or be anxious over plans
| for shortening the hours of work and
| for elevating the masses generally; but
| Just now he is devoted to agriculture
| and horticulture-to tall corn, gigantic
| apples and mamm, til squashes--to the
| growth of fruit trees, 30 improved
breeds of horses, horned cattle and
sheep, and to the production of large
eggs from small hens. The barn-yard
is his delight, and heaps of compost
| look to him like the delectable noun.
tains.
These rural scenes. the sight of the
falling leaves and the somber tints oI
early autumn, tend 10 compose Ben
| jamin's mind and lead him into thai
sentimental mood so necessary for de-
termining whether he will run for Gov.
ernor or not He discovers the occult
relation of pumpkins and politics, and
| comprehends the esthetic quality Of
sunnoWers Oy the garuen gate feace
and good will slide into his soul, and he
wonders whether he is not, after all,
putting of the old Adam and getting tc
| be . new sort of man.
When the fairs are all over and the
farmer has gone home to dig his pota.
| toes and husk his corn in the soft haze
| of the Indian summer, the great anC
| good statesman of Essex will seclude
himself in his Office and there compose
touching acceptance of the unex.
pected honor that has been imposed up
on him, and in due time the innumer
able army of men whose pigs he ha:
scratched with his silk umbrella will
walk up to the polls and drop in their
bits of paper whereon the name o
| Butler will be as one that has been wri
in water-invisible and forgotten.-De
tron Post and Tribune.