Poor
Hudson, between the dead and the living pig, was dreadfully distressed,
being apprehensive of losing both; however being fortunate enough to engage
a man to pursue the absconded delinquent, he proceeded home with the
defunct, and by dint of ablutions, and scrapings, &c. really made of it "a
very pretty pig." This done, it was hung up in the dairy or beer-cellar, I
know not which, ready for market, and if Hudson plumed himself upon
cheating fortune at least in one instance, he was not to blame; but, lo! in
the morning, poor pig, presented a hideous and horrible spectacle, and poor
Hudson stood aghast to behold it! The cats had made during the night so
plentiful a repast upon his new purchase, so that instead of a handsome
corpse there remained only a mangled assemblage of bloody bones, and
fragments of flesh! Poor Hudson! but after all, these misfortunes were
mainly attributable to his own carelessness, and as to whether he ever
recovered his truant pig, I cannot say; perhaps the man may be in pursuit
of him still.
S.L.
* * * * *
ON A PERSON SAYING HE SPENT TOO MUCH TIME ON MUSIC.
On music that you spend your time,
You surely can't mean what you say,
For all who know you must allow
You keep time whilst you sing or play.
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