Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-02-05

slzeu tombstone ana handed IL our. mart
ley passed 1t to the boy. He bit of a
hunk that made him look like he had the
mumps all on one side. and commenced
to crunch ii.
There" says l. That's proof enough.
amt it,
But he want satisfied. Wait a min
ute" says he. Il want to see what it
does to him
Well. it didn't do nothing. apparently.
except to make the little shaver's jaws
sound like rock crusher. so We went on.
BY and by We come to the fence along
side of the place where they had the
races. The sack race was on. half a
dozen fellers hopping around tied up in
meal bags. and we see that. Then Hart
ley was for going home again, but /
managed to hold him. The creased pig
was the next number on the dance order.
and / wanted TO see it,
Maj. Philander Phinney he's chairman
of the Eastwich selectmen. and pretty
nigh half as. big as Inc thinks he is. he
stood on tiptoe on the judges stand and
bellered that the greased-pig contest was
open to boys under fifteen. and that the
one that caught the pig and hung on to
IT would get So. In less than three shakes
of behring's hind leg there was boys
enough on that field to start reform
school They ranged al the way from
little chaps who ought to have been
home cutting their milk teeth to boys
that had yellow fuzz on their chins and
plug of chewing tobacco i'm their pants
pocket. They fetched in the pig shut up
III box with laths over the top. He
was little and black and all shining with
grease. Then they stretched a rope
across one end of the race field and lined
up the pig chasers behind it.
Hello. says Hartley. there's our
Portland cement youngster. He'll never
run with that marble quarry inside of
him.
Sure enough. there was the boy that
had tackled the candy. | could see his
red head blazing like a lightning bug
alongside of siX-foot infant with over
alis and promising crop CT side whsk
erS. Next thing j knew the starter-Issa-
char Tddit. twas-he opens the lid to
the pig box and hollers Co"
The line dropped. That little lone pig
see twenty odd pair of hands shooting
toward him. and he fetched yell like a
with the whole crew behind him. The
crowd got on tiptoe and stretched their
necks to see. Everybody hollered and
hurrahed and ."haw. hawed."
Now I've been calling the place where
they had the races and SO on a field.
Well. twa'n't really field. but just part
of the course where they had trotting
matches on cattle show days. There was
fence on each side of it. and across
the ends of the section they was using
there was ropes stretched. Back of the
fences was the crowd on foot and back
OF the ropes was more of EN-, but behind
these ropes likewise was lots Of horses
and wagons and carry-als and such.
Every wagon -as piled full of people and
amongst EN- l could see the Barry
coach. with the four gray steppers pranc-
ing up and down in front of it and old
Commodore Barry and his son on the
front seat with the women folk behind.
Well. when that pig started he made a
straight course for the lower end of the
field. but the sight of the horses and all
scared him. guess. and he jbed and
back he come again. Half a dozen of
the pig chasers-them that was nearest
to him when he come about-ran into
each other and piled up in heap.
squirming like an eel-pot. They got UP
in a jiffy and started over again. meeting
the gang that was coming back on the
second lap.
BY the time that pig had made three
laps round that course he was a candi-
date for the hogs lunatic asylum. Twic,
he'd been grabbed. once by the ears and
once by leg. but his liveliness and the
grease had got him clear. About half of
the boys had given up the job. and was
making for harbor behind the fence; COW
cred with sand and grease they was. and
red and ashamed. The crowd was pretty
nigh as crazy as the pig. only with joy.
Even Hartley was laughing out loud
first time I'd ever heard him.
That little chap with the red hair had
been right up with the mourners till the
third round. then he was stood on his
mead In the scuffle and left behind down
by the ropes In front of where the Barrys
was. The rest of the chasers were scat
tered around the other end OF the field
with the pig doing the grand right and
left in and out amongst their legs. One
of the boys-that big lanky one whose
cheeks needed mowing-made a flying
jump and dove head first right on top of
the critters shiny black back In a
shake he was the underpinning. so to
speak, of sort of monument OF boys,
all hghting like dogs over a woodchuck.
Next thing I knew the pig shot out
from underneath the pile same as If he'd
been fired out of a cannon. He was
squealing when he begun to fly and
squealing when he lit. but his running
tackle hadn't been hurt any, Down the
field he went and the only one of the
chasers in front of him was that little
red head. He makes a grab misses, and
the pig keeps straight on. right into the
crowd of men and horses and carriages.
Look OUT. yells everybody. LET him
go!' But that little shaver want built
that way. Under the ropes be dives.
right where the jam Of wheels and hoofs
was thickest. The Barry coach horses
rared up and jumped and backed You
could hear wheels grinding and men yell
ing and women screaming
l was one of the first over that fence
but. quick as l was. that Hartley invalid
was quicker. AS a general thing he
moved like twas hardly worth while to
he flew. ] could see his big shoulders
showing folk over like they was ninepins.
Under the ropes he went and in where
the tangle was the worst. And then it
closed up into a screeching kicking
whirlpool like. Down he went and lost
sight of him.
Everybody on the grounds WAS crazy
but / callate I was the worst Redla mite
OF the lot. Somehow I felt responsible
Twas me that told about the Fourth of
July doings first and got him over there
Twas me that coaxed him into staying
for the consarned pig business. And I
Kind of felt that / was his guardian, as
you might say. now that Van Brunt
want along. Yes. and by ginger, I liked
him! Course I thought of the poor little
boy. too but I'm free to say twas Hart
ley that thought of most.
For the doings OF the next two or three
minutes you'll have to ask somebody else
ATS l remember real we'll is catching
hold Of Issachar Tidditt's Sunday cut
away and ripping 1t from main truck to
keelson. You see. Issachar was trying to
back out Of the tangle and I was diving
In. Next thing I'm sure of is hanging
onto the bride OF one of the Barry horses
and playing snap the whip with my feet,
up and down and over and under.
She cleared up some finally and there
was a ring of folks jamming and pushing
and climbing between wheels and under
wagon bodies. and in the middle of the
r1ng was Hartley. kneeling on the ground
and looking pretty mddling white and
sick. with dripping cut over his eve
and with that little Shaver's red head i'm
his lap And old Doc Bailey was there
but how or when he come l don't know