n which we were.

Somewhat like rats, there seems to be a mysterious distribution of swine
all over the face of the earth; and much astonishment was created in the
minds of the discoverers of the South Sea Islands, by finding them in
those far-off specks of the earth. Perhaps there had been earlier
navigators there than ourselves.

Pork, fresh or cured, forms the principal food of our sailors and
peasantry; and most precious is the pig to the poor man. It is often the
pet of the younger branches of his family, and returns their affection
with interest.

Of course, it is an idle fable that pigs can see and smell the wind; but
it is perfectly true that they are always much agitated when a storm is
approaching.

Considering the stupid way in which they run when they are frightened,
the manner in which they squeak on all occasions, and the obstinacy
which they evince, very often when an endeavour is made to add to their
relief or comfort, it is not surprising that a low estimate of their
intelligence should hare been formed. Nevertheless, they have been
trained to point out letters and spell words, till they have acquired
the appellation of "learned pigs." What, however, is more useful, they
draw the plough in the south of France--they are taught to hunt the
truffles, which are hidden under the soil--they even stand at game like
the most accomplished pointers. The latter instruction was conveyed by
means of stones and pudding; if they failed in their duty, they received
the former; but when they drooped their ears and tail, and sank upon
their knees, nor rose till the birds had already risen, they feasted on
"lumps o' pudding."

Of the voracity of pigs, there are many stories, all more or less
disagreeable; and none more so than when they have killed and partially
eaten children, and utterly devoured their young keepers. Such stories
have been too well authenticated to be doubted; but they are exceptions
to the general history of the animal. It is much more pleasing to refer
to the life, death, and burial of poor Jean, who was saved out of a
litter of six (born on board ship) from the butcher's knife. She was
brought up as a pet, and suffered to run about deck, among sheep and
goats. Most of the live stock was washed off, but Jean remained because
she had been stowed away in the long boat. In warm latitudes the men
took their meals on deck, and she was always one of the mess, poking her
nose into every bread bag, and