THE EPIC OF THE HOG.

I lived upon a little farm,

A happy hog was I,

I never dreamed of any harm

Nor ever thought to die.

All day I wallowed in the mud,

And ate the choicest slops.

I watched the brindles chew their cud —

The farmer tend his crops.

Upon the hottest days I'd go

And flounder in the river —

I thought that hogs might come and go,

But I would live forever.

Then finally I waxed so fat

That I could hardly walk,

And then the farmers gather‘ round

And all began to talk.

I could n't understand a word,

All I did was grunt;

You see that's all a hog can do —

It is his only stunt.

But finally they took me out

And put me on a train.

I really could n't move about

And squealed with might and main.

I grunted, grunted as I flew

And moved in vain endeavor,

But even then I thought it true

That I would live forever.

And so we came to Packingtown

Where there were hogs galore,

I never saw so many hogs

In all my life before.

Then we had to shoot the chutes

And climb a flight of stairs,

We never had a chance to stop

Or time to say our prayers.

Loud-squealing hogs above, below

They formed a seething river,

For men may come and men may go

But hogs go on forever.

And then I saw an iron wheel

Which stood alone in state,

And then I heard an awful squeal —

A hog had met his fate.

A devilish chain upon the wheel

Had seized him by the leg;

It was no use to kick and squeal,

It was no use to beg.

I longed in deepest grief and woe

To leave that brimming river;

If once into that room you go

Your fate is sealed forever.

Farewell, Farewell, a long farewell,

Around the room I spin,

And then a fellow with a knife

Smites me below the chin.

Dear reader I was just a hog,

But O it's awful hard

To die disgraced, and then to be —

Turned into “Pure Leaf Lard.”