CHAPTER XI.

IN WHICH MAJOR POTTER ENCOUNTERS A SWINE DRIVER, AND TRADES WITH HIM
FOR AN INTELLIGENT PIG.





A VOICE crying "Schew, ho! schew, ho!" broke louder and louder upon
the ear, until, beneath a cloud of dust, there appeared the snouts
of some twenty lean swine, scenting the road from side to side, as
if in search of food. They were followed at a short distance by a
tall, square shouldered man, dressed in the homespun of the country.
He carried a pair of steelyards over his shoulder, and was
accompanied by his dog, a sharp eyed sagacious animal, that every
few minutes coursed into the bushes by the roadside, and kept the
swine in proper marching order.

The major was thrown into ecstasies at what he deemed an auspicious
opportunity for another trade, and began to count his profits ere he
had come up with the swine driver. A few minutes more, and the swine
driver cried out at the top of a voice that seemed to have come
through a tin trumpet, so grating was it, "If you kill my shoats,
neighbor peddler, them tin traps of thine shall suffer as will not
be good." The major now reined up old Battle, and throwing down the
reins, dismounted, and began parleying with the swine driver as to
the value of his drove. "It is cruel of you," said the major, "to be