a time, a little girl named Wang was raised by pigs in a rural hamlet of
China. Behaving porcinely, she grew up wearing cute
little pigtails and porkpie hats, happy as a pig in spit when her relatives, sweating like pigs, carried her around the farm piggyback.
Devoted to the classics, they all spoke pig Latin.
Wang was an ethusiastic little pig
gal. She squealed with delight over the works of Francis Bacon and went whole hog and hog wild for cartoon characters like Porky Pig and Miss Piggy, movies like Porky's, novels like Swine Flu Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and plays like Pygmalion and Hamlet, which she loved to ham up. Naturally she rooted for
the Arkansas Razorbacks
pigskin program and
picked up their games on her ham radio
Wang was an exceedingly moral person. She hated apartheid,
especially when Boers discriminate against pygmies. She knew that the practice was
a pigment of the imagination, a hogshead of hogwash
that could ultimately hog-tie
and stymie an entire country and leave it pork mocked and squealing like a stuck pig.
She never dated male
chauvinist pigs who
sell women a pig in
a poke and then go squealing to their friends. One might
just as well cast
pearls before swine.
She also abboared
swine who live high off the hog of pork barrel politics. Snout the right thing to do. It just
Wang did have her faults. She could be really pigheaded about her room, which could
look quite sloppy, like a pigpen or pigsty. And at meals she could be a real boar, eating like a pig, hogging all the food, and having a swill time pigging out on , the trough, the whole trough,
and nothing but the trough.
I am hoping that this story af Wang's life will bring home the bacon for her. Then she can save her
royalties in her piggy
bank and eventually
stuff them into her purse, which is, of course, made out
of a sow's ear.
Is th-th-that all f-f-folks? Not in a pigs eye! Beartown News is loaded with all sorts of
extremely useful information and the latest news!
of my room commands a exhileratin view of Coop's Hill,
where Cotton Mather, the father of the Reformers and sich,
lies berrid. I went over to Lexington yes'd'y. My Boosum
hove with sollum emotioins. "& this," I
said to a man who was driving a yoke of oxen, "this
is where our Revolutionary forefathers asserted their
independence and spilt their Blud. Classic ground!"
"Wall," the man said, "its good for white
beans and potatoes, but as regards raisin' wheat, tain't
worth a damn."
I returned to the Hoss Cars, part way. A pooty girl in
spectacles sot near me, and was tellin' a young man how
much he reminded her of a man she used to know in Waltham.
Potty soon the young man got out, and smilin' in a
seductiv manner I said to the girl in spectacles, "Don't
I remind you of somebody you used to know?"
"Yes," she said, "you remind me of one man,
but he was sent to the pennytentiary for stealin' a Bar'l
of mackril - he died there, so I conclood you ain't him."
I didn't pursoo the conversation.
You get what you
wanted and did.
First of all, sweep
in front of your own hut.
No foot can stand
without a leg.
Even a wise man
doesn't know it all.
A woman's clothes
are the price of her husband's peace.
A rope will always
tear where it is weakest.
Never try to bribe
a woman with presents, for after all she'll have her own
A guest should not
be unmindful of what he owes to his host.
Dry leaves are not
tobacco, and rattan not rope.
was mean enough to hunt bears with a hickory switch.
He lasted as long
as a pint of whisky in a five-handed poker game.
He was so mad he
could bite himself.
He was as drunk as
a fiddler's clerk.
He was crazy enough
to eat the devil with horns on.
He couldn't hit a
bull's rump with a handful of banjo's.
He looks so bad his
He was meaner'n a
If he closed one
eye he'd look like a needle.
He's so mean he'd
steal a fly from a blind spider.
He was mad enough
to swallow a horned tad backwards.
He didn't have
manners enough to carry guts to a bear.
He was built like a
snake on stilts.
He was uglier than
a new sheared sheep.
His lip hangs down
like a blacksmith's apron.
He was popular as a wet dog at a parlor social.
He looked like the
hindquarters of bad luck.
He was so thin he
could take a bath in a shotgun barrel.
straight, but judges are crooked.
An untried friend
is like an uncracked nut.
The fiddle is
judged by its tune.