"Can I help you about anything this morning?" asked Robert of James, as he strolled out into the barnyard after breakfast.

"I am going to feed the pigs," said James. "You may go with me if you like."

Robert did not seem very much pleased with this invitation, and, as
James looked surprised, he said:

"I do not like pigs, they are so dirty. Besides, they are always squealing, and they live in such a disagreeable place under the barn."

James smiled. "Come with me and see our pigs," he said; "perhaps you will like them better than you think."

James had a large wheelbarrow with him, and on the way he stopped in a fine field of clover and cut enough of it to fill the wheelbarrow to the very top. Robert helped him pile up the clover, and he would have liked to wheel the barrow, but it was too heavy for him.

They passed on into another field where Robert saw a row of little houses. Each little house had a yard inclosed by a board fence, which was not too high for Robert to look over.

In the first yard was a fine, large sow and six clean little pigs, four of them white, and the other two black and white. They were frisking around their mother and playing almost as prettily as young puppies. There was space enough in the yard to give them plenty of room for their frolic.

Robert was so delighted with them that he wanted to feed them, and James let him put an armful of the sweet clover into the yard. "I have fed them once this morning," said James. "They had their regular breakfast before I had mine, which was very early."

Robert went on to the next yard where a large hog was lying contentedly in the sun. He gave a cheerful grunt as if to say "thank you," when James threw some clover over the fence.

"Here, old fellow, are some acorns!" said James, as he took a handful from his pocket and flung them over into the clover pile. "That's right. Hunt them up!"

Robert laughed to see what a good time the hog was having. As he went on he saw that all the yards were clean and so were the pigs. There was a trough of fresh water in each yard, and another trough for the food.

"I thought all pigs were dirty," said Robert.

"No, indeed!" said James. "They like to be clean and to have room to run about. They need to root in the earth and roll in the mud, but they prefer clean earth and clean mud to the filthy stuff they often get."

"There's a great difference in mud," said Robert, in such a wise way that James laughed. "Pigs like sunshine, too," said he, "and when you have seen me give them a bath you will never say again that they like to be dirty. We wash them and brush them with a stiff brush, and they think it great fun."

"Do they eat anything but scraps from the kitchen?" was Robert's next question.

"Of course," said James. "They have milk, beets, potatoes, a little grain, with plenty of hay, and green or dry clover. I don't give them much corn because it makes them too fat. In those small troughs I keep a mixture of clay, salt, ashes, and charcoal so that the pigs can reach it easily. In winter I always warm their food for them and take great pains to keep their bedding warm and dry. I am not allowed to give them any food which isn't sweet and fresh. If I were careless about it I should lose my place directly. Mr. Spencer made me understand that when I came. He said that a dirty pig-pen was a disgrace to a farmer and a danger to the neighborhood."

"These pigs look as if they knew you," said Robert. "Do you think they do?"

"I know they do," said James. "They are as bright as any of the other animals I take care of. Don't you know the old Welsh saying, 'Happy is the man who is as wise as a pig'? When they are stupid it is because they have been ill-treated. If we lived in a dark, damp hole under a barn we might look a little dull, sometimes. Don't you think so, Robert?"