Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1885-07-01
A Texas Razor-Back.

Bugle very long before l discovered
that there were lots of people who
were willing to help in molding public
opinion, if l would let them. Some
of them seemed to think that they
had a right to do so.
In Texas, as elsewhere, there are
any number of queer roosters who
think that the editor Of the local paper
wears the habiliments of poverty and
nibbles at the fea-bitten crackers and
pallid cheese of the free lunch counter
for no other purpose than to furnish
Thomas, Richard and Henry with
facilities for ventilating their private
grievances in his paper.
The worst one / ever saw was Sim
Holman, who had ranch on Calav-
eras Creek, and who came to town
once week to transact business, n
part of which was getting drunk, and
giving me advice as to how to write
local items.
One afternoon while at work at my
desk there was a smell of whisky in
the air, and few minutes later on in
came Sim Holman, showing his whis-
ky-laden breath in front of himself,
so to speak. 1t was evident that he
had something on his mind besides
whisky.
He sat down very close to me, and
although l managed to shut off some
of the distillery aroma with palm
leaf fan, l got enough of it to make
me think was in Austin during a
session of the Legislature. He was
just drunk enough to talk fuently.
He remarked
There's n hatchet-faced Yankee
living near my ranch, who should be
denounced by the Bugle as an enemy
of the South. He has swindled me
in a hog trade. You can draw a lit
tie, can't your"
"Just little"
81 want you to draw some pictures
of the hog he sold me. He sold me
one of these slab-sided razor-backs,
that prowls about the woods, living
on acorns, but can spare time to climb
under the fence and help harvest the
corn crop rather than let it spoil for
want of attention. 1t was one of
them pigs that is SO thin it can't crawl
through little hole if you tie knot
OH the end of its tail. That's the
kind of swine that Yankee aboli-
zionist sold me for a full-blood Berk-
shire"
81 suppose you drank glass of
cold water" l remarked; "and not
being used to it, you got so drunk
you couldn't tell razor-back hog
from a bronze statute of Niobe. If
you don't know anything more about
hogs than that you are fooling away
your time farming. You ought to
edit stock-raising journal"
81 wasn't drunk" replied Sim Hol-
man; 81 was rs sober as l am now.
l guess can tell one kind of hog
from another. Your name is Sweet
don't mistake you for anybody else,
But as l was saying, that slab-sided
hog, built on the Swiss cottage style
of architecture, wanted to rub its
back on something, and not knowing
any better, he allayed the irritation
by rubbing against bee hive.
"The bees" continued Sim, chap
pened to be in. They just dropped
whatever they were at, and proceed
ed to entertain their visitor. The hog
sang for them a plaintive ditty.
"Well, the busy little bees not only
improved the shining hour, but they
also improved the breed of that pig.
When you were a boy, and got stung
by the bees on the exposed parts they
swelled all up. You see that thin,
razor-back hog was exposed all over,
so he swelled up all over, until he
looked fat and plump like Berkshire
hog.
81 happened to come along, and
that cused Yankee incendiary sold me
that hog for a thoroughbred swine.
In a few days he began to fall off as
the swelling went down, and now he
is the same old razor-back he always
was. If the press of the country
doesn't propose to redress those kind
of wrongs, it has no lofty mission any
more."-A. L. Sweet, in Texas Sift-
ings.