The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1906-06-30
BAcHELoRED By a poRKER.

An that's enough. you know
-E. A. BrGinst0ok. In Good Literature
BAcHELORED BY a PoRKER.
The favorite cotton picking song Of
the ante-bellum darkies, so I have
heard, had as its refrain the couplet:
"If 1t hadn't been for Cotton-eyed Joe,
I'd been married long time ago."
1 cannot lay the blame of my uu-
married state to "Cotton-eyed Joe"
or any other biped no, it was a
quadrupedal animal that brought me
woe.
1 had been for a long time think
ing that Lydia was the only girl in
the world for me, and one day l
screwed my courage to the popping
point and offered her my hand, my
heart and all my worldly goods
the latter being more or less myth
ical. She was, of course, taken
completely by surprise" and un-
able to frame definite response, but
she promised to give me her answer
the following day at the picnic. Her
bushes and her encouraging manner
lifted me to the seventh heaven of
hope, and I felt as if 1 was stepping
on air as l walked away. She called
out to me:
eff you should happen to find little
Peter please bring him to me.
Little Peter was pet white Ches-
ter pig-the sole remaining progeny
of a fine sow, which Lydia's grand
father had given her. The big sow
had come up that morning minus
this solitary hope and Lydia was
greatly distressed about it. an
swered fervently that I would bring
little Peter to her if he could be
found.
rue nexu morning evenerul
44.norniug of the picnic and of my prom
ised answer-dawned brightly, and
donnirg my Prince Albert suit and
a new derby, I set out for Lydia's
home to attend her to the picnic.
When nearly in sight of the house I
heard a feeble squeal, followed by a
grunt. The sounds came from
vent near the road and after a con-
siderable search I was able to locate
them. They came from down a
hole about three feet deep, at the
bottom of which I saw something
white, and knew it was little Peter.
1 got down fat on the ground and
running my long arm into the hole,
1 grabbed the pig and pulled him
out, thereby plastering the sleeves OF
my coat with mud, but then didn't
Abe Lincoln get big praise for stop
ping on his way to a campaign
speaking to help an unlucky pig out
Of mud hole? And wasn't this
Lydia's pig-her pet pig? Ipictured
her smiles when I should deliver little
Peter to her, safe and sound, and l
felt like conquering hero as strobe
on with my head up and the pig
squealing for ali he was worth. AS
he was all over mud, I had tied him
up in my big handkerchief and hung
him on my arm, and thinking his
predicament was worse than the hole,
the little ungrateful cuss rent the air
with his squeals for help. And the
squeals were answered all to my
sorrow. All at once I heard rush,
an angry snort behind me and the
huge mother sow with bristles erect
and mouth open, was right upon me.
She struck my legs blow like a
battering ram, and down I came on
nv knees. She grabbed some part
of my apparel but with mighty et-
fort I freed myself and scampered to
nv feet. And still l had little Peter
slung on my arm I hadn't enough
presence of mind to rid myself of him)
and still his squeals punctured the
air and maddened his dreadful mann
ma.
Snorting like an angry elephant,
she came at me again and saw my
only safety was in flight. My one
course lay right on the pike that ran
by Lydia's home. What would she
think to see me coming batting the
breeze, muddy, hatless (my new
derby had been shed on the battle
feld) flying from a pursuing sow !
And had heard her declare her
scorn for coward.
Like a flash these thoughts ran
through me as ran, for l had led
off like a veteran baseballist and the
porker was bringing up the rear in
grand style.
In this order we reached the top OF
the hill. Gas in a dream, TO quote
the lady story-writers-I saw Lydia
standing on the porch. determined
to make one great effort to preserve
her respect. would face about and
do battle. As I turned the great
brute, her teeth gnashing, her jaws
dropping foam, came rushing to-
wards me. I couldn't stand it.
turned again to ey.
drop the pig 7" screamed my in
amorata from the porch. And ther
for the first time it flashed on me
how stupid had been not to think
Of this before. I unslung the hand
kerchief as quickly as thought
Piggy tumbled out at his mother:
feet, and instantly the blood-thirsty
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