He said they were by
no means the stupid animals that some people considered them. He had had
pigs that were as clever as dogs. One little black pig that he had once
sold to a man away back in the country had found his way home, through
the woods, across the river, up hill and down dale, and he'd been taken
to the place with a bag over his head. Mr. Wood said that he kept that
pig because he knew so much.
He said the most knowing pigs he ever saw were Canadian pigs. One time
he was having a trip on a sailing vessel, and it anchored in a long,
narrow harbor in Canada, where the tide came in with a front four or
five feet high called the "bore." There was a village opposite the place
where the ship was anchored, and every day at low tide, a number of pigs
came down to look for shell-fish. Sometimes they went out for half a
mile over the mud flats, but always a few minutes before the tide came
rushing in they turned and hurried to the shore. Their instincts warned
them that if they stayed any longer they would be drowned.
Mr. Wood had a number of pigs, and after a while Daddy was put in with
them, and a fine time he had of it making friends with the other little
grunters.
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