The Pulaskian., 1917-03-16
THE PEA RIDGE POD MAN RAMB- LING THROUGH PULASKI CoUN- TY ENJOYS HIS LIBERTY.
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" ENJOYS HIS LIBERTY.
 fContinued from Page 1.)
 am back in the Southland and though I am a very sedate old fellow 1 just had to whistle Dixie little bit and I had to finger along the banks and look at the white crystal rocks.
 Ioitered along the road all morning, enjoying the fresh spring air until about dinner time, when l began to get busy. I was not hungry, but l did want a good, strong cup of coffee. I found it in an old Southern home. It was made by Mrs. l.. c. Young. Mrs. Young lives in the house where she was born. She regretted very much that it did not belong to them. There were two heirs, they could not divide the place so it was sold and the pro- ceeds divided between the two.
 From now on I was in country which is not settled up except along the road. Every person I met was friend of The Pulaskian and greeted me most cordially, and the names I put on The Pulaskiani list would have been a good directory of the rural route, tslt for the fact that numbers of them were already on it.
 I found a mill run by A l.. Pritch- ard, where 1 was hospitably enter tained for the night in their comfort able home There had arrived a MT. Canant from Perry county, B miles away, another man from the other side of Conway, and yet another from Ben ton, all with wheat to be ground into four.
 MT. Pritchard has an excellent and most interesting family. When I ar rived there were only Mrs. Pritchard and the baby boy at home, and won- dered why MT. Pritchard could stay away all week from so good looking young wife and pretty baby, whether at saw mill he owned near the Louis jana line or stave mill at Benton, but when he came in about 8 o'clock in his Ford with a son about grown, who is attending Draughon's Business College, and four other children who attend the public schools in Little Rock I saw the reason. He is looking after the interests of as fine a family of children as can be found in the state. It is 13 miles and 600 feet from the front gate, and his children make the trip to the Robert E. Lee school in 45 minutes.
 MT. Pritchard has fine valley farm here and a beautiful home on the hill- side that oyerlooks it. He is a good farmer and timberman. Hogs, he says, are hard to understand One year he had fine blooded SOW and a litter of fine pigs. GA miller, you know, is supposed to have fat hogs and be rich. That's why I printed Flowers poem about the miller this week instead of the one about Spring Mir Pritchard is no exeeption.) One pig was extra smart and found way to get into the yard. Mrs. Pritchard petted it and fed it butter milk every love with it. One day when MT. Pritchard came to dinner, with tears in her eyes, she informed him she had killed it 'You did not" he replied sT did,' repeated she. .'It came into the yard as healthy and happy as a pig could be, and I gave it a lot of milk. It drank it all. squealed and fell down dead" A little later on he watched another healthy pig go to the creek and drink; it reared up on it's hind legs, squealed and died. As he was telling of the death to some men at the mill and all were looking at sleeping pig it squealed and died, Every fine stock hog he had died the same way that year. but the scrub hogs on the range did well, not a one diod. The next year the scrubs died, but the fine stock did we'll
 After nearly all were dead, an old negro asked him why he did not cure them. He told him because he did not know how The old negro got some polk root, boiled it, put it in the slop and not hog that ate that slop died. MT. Pritchard has used it ever since then, with never a failing success. At daylight there came a hard rain and MT. Pritchard cranked up his faithful Ford and brought me to town, show