A farmer the other day took a plowshare to the blacksmith’s to be sharpened, and while the blacksmith worked the farmer chuckled and bragged about a sale of hogs he had just made.

“Them hogs was only eight months old,” he said, “and none too fat, nuther; but I seen that the buyer was at his wits’ end, and by skillful jugglin’ I boosted up the price on him just 300 per cent. Yes, by gum, I got three times more for them hogs than I uster get before the war.”

The plowshare being done, the farmer handed the smith 50 cents.

“Hold on,” said the smith; “I charge $1.50 for that job now.”

“You scandalous rascal!” yelled the farmer. “What do you mean by treblin’ your price on me? What have you done it for?”

“I’ve done it,” said the blacksmith, “so’s I’ll be able to eat some of that high-priced pork of yours this winter.”