was headed by no less a person than his own intended father-in-law, the
man from Leavenworth. It was his pig. The rest of us had lived at
Heart's Desire for a considerable time, but there had hitherto seemed
no need for law. Order we already had in so far as order is really
needed; though the importance of order, or indeed the importance of
law, is a matter very much overrated. No man at Heart's Desire ever
dreamed of locking his door. His horse might doze saddled in the
street if he liked. No man spoke in rudeness or coarseness to his
neighbor, as do men in the cities where they have law. No man did
injustice to his neighbor, for fair play and an even chance were gods
in the eyes of all, eikons above each pinon-burning hearth in all that
valley of content. The speech of man was grave and gentle, the
movements of man were easy and unhurried; neither did any man work by
rule, or by clock, or by order. There was no such thing as want or
hunger; for did temporary poverty encompass one, was there not always
the house of Uncle Jim Brothers, and could not one there hang up his
gun behind the door and so obtain credit for an indefinite length of
time, entitling him to eat at table with his peers? Had there been
such a thing as families in Heart's Desire, be sure such a thing as a
woman or child engaged in any work had been utterly unknown. It was a
land of men, big, grave, sufficient men, each with a gun upon his hip,
and sometimes two, guaranty of peace and calm and content. And any man
who has ever lived in a Land Before the Law knows that this is the only
fit way of life. Alas! that this scheme, this great, happy simple,
perfect scheme of society should be subverted. And, be it remembered,
this was by reason of nothing more than a pig, an artless, lissom pig,
it is true; an infrequent, somewhat prized, a little petted and perhaps
spoiled pig, it is true; yet, after all, no fit cause of elemental
strife.