neer.

But the pride of his forest farm was his pigs. He had built a strong pen
of logs, with a heavy door, in order to protect them in the night from
wild animals. It stood about five rods from the house, near the brook,
just across which, and not thirty feet from the sty, was the edge of the
dense natural forest.

During the day they were permitted to roam at large in the woods eating
nuts, by which they fattened for the larder; but when night approached,
they were called and zealously secured in the pen, a practice which soon
taught the pigs the habit of early retiring. Gradually, however, Mr.
Lohr's punctuality in this matter abated, until one evening it had
become fairly dark ere he went to shut them in. As he walked down the
beaten path, a rustling in the adjacent bushes made him think that the
pigs might still be out; and to satisfy himself on the point, he entered
the pen and felt around, saying as he did so, "One two, three--all
here." Then as he turned to the door, he wondered what caused the
rustling across the brook. But as he stooped to go out, his wonder was
threateningly answered by a low growl from a dark crouching object, only
two or three steps in front of him.

With swift hands he closed the door, shutting himself in; and none too
soon, for instantly a heavy animal leaped on the roof over his head and
began fiercely scratching at the cover. At the same time a mewing at
the door, and a snuffing at the side of the pen, showed him that he was
a prisoner, with at least three panthers as his jailors. But unlike
jailors generally, these were more eager to get their captive out than
to keep him in; while the prisoner, instead of wishing to "break jail,"
was anxious not to do so.

All night long he was a "Wide Awake," as were also the pigs, for the
panthers were growling and screaming, scratching and digging around and
upon the pen, trying to tear it to pieces and seize the occupants.
Although feverishly excited, he felt quite secure, because the sty was
so substantially built.

Yet such lodgings and neighbors, within and without, would not tend to
produce very placid slumbers, even if the walls were cannon-proof.

Various plans were tried by Polly, his wife, who had become aware of the
situation, to drive away the creatures, but in vain.

She held a torch where it shone toward the pen; she screamed through the
narrow casement, and rattled a tin pan at the animals; but she did not
know how to load and