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I turned an' fled. Ther river wuz not fur erway,
an' I knowed thet if I beat them hawgs ter it I wuz safe.
"I jest did it, an' waded out ez fur ez I could an' started ter swim.
'When I gits ter ther other side I'll take some long shots at yer,'
thinks I, 'an' we'll hev hawg meat yit.'
"I gits out inter ther middle o' ther stream when I hears a puffin' an'
a gruntin' behind me. I looks over my shoulder an' here comes ther whole
herd swimmin' right after me as--"
"That settles it," said Ben, as he rose with a snort of disgust.
"What's ther matter with yer?" asked Bud calmly.
"Yer story is what I thought it would be--wild and woolly and full of
cockleburs."
"How is thet ag'in?"
"It's rotten. Don't you know, as long as you have been on earth, that
swine cannot swim without committing suicide?"
"Go ahead. Will you kindly tell us fer why, perfessor?"
"Certainly. The hoofs of pigs are so sharp, and their forelegs are set
so far under their bodies, that when they attempt to swim their hoofs
strike their fat throats, cutting them, and they die from loss of
blood.


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