The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1917-12-04

Many years ago, when we were Tor
was) boy, with only one gallus to
hold up our pants, and one pair Oh
shoes per annum, and was captain
and crew of a little farm stood up on
edges between two spurs of the Blue
Ridge, there came an autumn WHEEL
we had -middling crop of
corn-most forty bushels. And we
figured that with said corn and cou-
pie of hogs, and six-quart cow, and
three banks of potatoes, and plenty
of persimmons and 'possums, chest
nuts and squirrels in the woods, a
prosperous and plentiful winter was
ahead. But over on the other ridge OF
the mountain lived neighbor, who
had a drove of thirteen razorback
hogs, who could turn on one side and
push themselves thru a crack in the
fence like the carrier boy sometimes
pushes your Evening Star under your
office door. And in an evil night the
said swine pioneered over the noun
tains and found the place where a
15-year old boy was trying to keep up
three-quarters of mile of rail fence
in addition to his other troubles. So
they invited themselves in and deci-
mated our corn crop, and the next
night decimated it again, and the
next night after that, so it began to
look like there wouldn't be even a
half a decimate left. We struggled
along in the daytime, trying to dam
UP the cracks, but only a solid stone
wall would have turned those hogs.
We decided that if we had to starve,
those hogs shouldn't have the fun of
roofing up the grass on our grave,
and so on the fifth or sixth night we
put buckshot in the old muzzle-load-
ing, two-shooter that was our choic-
est possession and went and sat down
under tree in the most likely spot
for raid to hit. About the time any
decent hog would have been turning
over for his second nap, along came
the whole drove, trotting Indian file
along one of those thoroughfares
known in the mountains as hog paths.
The foremost one reached our fence,
stuck his nose into a crack that city
man would hardly try to push shad
thru, turned on his side and slid into
the field, gathered his feet under him
and stood up, looking with his nose
in the way an inquisitive hog has
About that time a load of buckshot
took him abaft the right front leg
and he never squealed; neither did his
brother in crime, who was half way
thru the fence and got his where the
chicken got the ak. Any well-breG
hog would have concluded he wasnt
wanted, and would have gone home al
once, but these hogs had no virtue
whatever, and kept on walking arounc
that fence. Every once in awhile one
would try to come over or thru, there
would always be bang and some
times, not often, squeal, and another
hog would be where the wicked cease
from troubling. 1t was good sport
our next door neighbor half mile
down the valley was away from
home, and the mountain walls ant
thick trees shut out the noise of tn,
shots and squeals from the rest o
the world. After the drove had beer
cut down to four. the survivors tool
the hint and started for home; blu
as we wanted to sleep the next nigh
we trailed along after them, an
about every hundred yards or SO W
dropped another. The last one sill
houetted himself on top the ridge
and if he had gone on he would hav
been safe, but he stopped to look wit
his nose. He was an extra thin no.
and we think some of the hucksho
went clear thru him. We put in tn
remainder of the night burying hog:
and we made an artistic job of it, TOT
The law in that state was that be
fore you could lawfully shoot no
you must have a fence ten rails higl
staked and ridered-and we neve
saw any such fence. Our neighbc
missed his hogs next day, but he wa