The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1888-08-03
IN THE PACKING HOUSE.
LAST HOURS OF A HOGS LIFE IN
.."..@ EAST CAMBRIDGE. ".." Ave..

N@V0V SVV0T1J10es - -
P0rcine Executions That Take Place
Daily In One of the Suburbs of Boston.
Bloodshed In the Hot watcr-Thc Shaw
ing Machine.
A pig may 60 into the pork packing house
in East Cambridge a pig, but when no goes
out he is numerously referred to as hams,
pork sides, pigs feet, hogs heads, spare ribs,
picked tongues and shoulders, lard, bristles,
fertilizer, hair and hogs grease and lard oil.
Recently, in company with one of the en-
ployes of the concern, the writer spent several
hours in examining the various buildings. A
long, low structure at the extreme northeast
corner Of the enclosure, about which q high
fence extends to protect it from the world
outside, is the hog house where new arrivals
are kept before the slaughter. A car load Of
sleek looking porkers, that might be called
the aristocracy Of the swine population Of
the west, were just beginning to settle down
for q few hours of solid comfort when q small
boy and a man came hurriedly along, and
shouting to them, tho entire drove were in q
minute upon their feet. They saw a means
Of exit that had purposly been left open, and
through it they passed, unconscious of the
terrible fate awaiting them on the other side
Of the long, narrow bridge into which they
were entering. And what a long, dark
bridge it is! You ave seen covered railroad
bridges up in the country that are like it.
Through occasional cracks in the walls the
sunlight streamed in, and there in a babel of
sUuuus cUulu ue seen q line OF hugs pszckeu
closer than sleighs on the Milldam in Janu-
airy. They were crowding, pushing each
other towards the little opening SO far ahead
which marked the end of the bridge, and
pretty soon they had all passed through it
not into the sunlight which seemed to be
awaiting them, but into a triangular pen
where the rumble of machinery came to their
ears, and occasionally the dying vail Of one
of their kind whose wind had been cut by
the lord high executioner.
The porkers were closer together than sar-
dimes in a box, and restless as eels. They
tried to walk on top Of each other, rubbed
against the trousers of the men among them,
and then some would try to climb the wooden
wall and escape. As it was no less than six
feet high, they could do little more than
stand on their hind legs. This was an excel
lent opportunity for the swine herd. He had
been for several minutes watching a wire
AVPO G06S Auuk A1Ou u puAAcy 6Oku0 LWouty
feet above the pen Then it was lowered
toward him, and we knew the end was inn
minent.
II I were to describe the scene after the
newspaper style Of an execution, I would
say:
1908 o'clock-Pig Sly, the largest and most
Intellectual appearing victim, is now being
seized by the hind legs. The left is clasped
by q band of steel, which fastens like a hand
cuff.
1O:O3N-He is suddenly drawn high in the
air, and is swinging to and fro like the pen
dulum OF q grandfather's clock. A pro-
longed squea1 in the key Of high c reverbcr-
ates through the death chamber. The rope
begins suddenly to pull him along towards
tho executioner.
1904 o~'clock-The executioner has just let
fly a mouthful of tobacco juice. The victim
for a second hangs silent before him. The
awfulness Of the situation is evidently numb
ing his mind, for no sound escapes him.
Courage such as his in the last moment Of
life seems more than human. The execu-
TONER raises his knife. He holds it as Edwin
Booth docs his rapier in q stage duel. A
second its trusty blade glitters in the electric
light, and then it is buried in tho victims
apoplectic neck; He twists like a screw
driver, n then the killer pulls forth his
weapon, while the life blood starts in q GRIM
son stream like muddy Cochituatc througha
half open faucet. In an instant commissions
seize the dying porker. His flesh twists and
the muscles become distorted. Tho agonies
are intense, and then the reaction Of death
begins, the cords relax and on towards tho
bathing tub he goes, dead as a doornail.
Ten seconds after the pig becomes pork he
is shot down into a hot water bath. We who
have thought LIES end was coming in the
sweltering confines of a Turkish bath take
heart always. Don't kick about hot water
until you have seen the bubbling, seething
caldron in a killing room. Tho hog is
always supposed to be dead when this stage
is reached, but it sometimes happens that he
is not, and in the few brief moments before
final darkness blinds his mind how thoughts
of past wrongs and misdeeds must come from
their graves to hound himl The tub in
which he is dropped is q long one. and after
being rolled over several times until the
bristles arc ready to drop out Of their own
accord he is pulled up on q board, and in q
twinkling two men have removed his bristles
and he goes on his way rejoicing. Hooked
like q fish under the chin, the rope to which
he is suspended carries hiSa througha shower
bath, and then the shaving machine is
reached. I can say truthfully that I would
rather take my chances in going through
that machine than to repeat the experience
of being shaved by some BARRIERS I know who
claim to be first class workmen.
But you want to know. something about
this machine. Suppose, then, you see tho
head of a barrel removed, and in its place
imagine there are arranged upon springs
dozen or more knife blades, SO that when no
pressure is brought upon them from the under
side they remain so close together that you
could not drop q kitten down between them.
Then imagine that a pigs nose comes into
sight. It gently slides up, pushing back the
scrapers, which in turn do their duty and
leave his snout hairless and white as a baby's
face. On he comes, and further back the
blades are pushed. His neck comes through,
then his body, and finally, when he has been
all scraped, as he is by one passage through,
the knives resume their original position, a
stream-of water dashes over them, and the
hair is washed down through Q passage into
q repository below.
On goes the porker until he reaches a table
where four men are employed, two on each
side, in removing such hairs Us have escaped
the automatic barber behind. Before you
can say Jack Robinson he has resumed his
journey and is landed on a bench, where his
Intervals are removed and several shower
baths given. Then, when all is over and he
shocking as pure aud clean as pork can look,
he is given the only roller coaster ride a pig
was ever known to take. The course from
the end Of the finishing room to the cooling
room, where the pork is placed before pack
ing, is down a long incline Of perhaps 800
feet. The dressed hog is hitched to q little
truck by the hind legs, a push is given, and
down the track it runs to the refrigerator.
To be candid, this was the only portion of
the business that I should like to pass through,
and the enthusiasm of boyhood days could
not he kept down as wo watched tho porkcr
swing wildly to and fro as the truck carried
him down like the wind, faster than a bicycle
coasts down hill, with no chance for a header.
Henry G. Trickey in Boston Globe.
A Society GA<l's Bric-a-Brac.
But the room Of a society girl whose name
I could mention, but may not. The odd
things upon the walls and lying scattered
about are q wonderful mystery to the unini-
tiated. A variety Of cigars suspended from
the mantel by different hued ribbons, or q
bunch Of cigarettes attached to a picture
frame by means Of q huge ribbon bow, these
are eaaiv known for what they are; but q
pretty lltsle box IN the toilet table, with tho
inscription: "Cremated July IL, 1887 calls
for many guess. The open lid discloses .
heap Of gray ashes, with another inscription:
naaork .Ynlv 70 NJ y r. Z, <ho o.l.. |