atto complexion; and Jose, slighter, with
rather a feminine face,--not a gay, girlish one, but grave, reserved,
eying you sometimes with an earnest but secret expression, and causing
you to question what sort of person he is.

* * * * *

_Friday, October 1._--I have been looking at our four swine,--not of the
last lot, but those in process of fattening. They lie among the clean
rye straw in the sty, nestling close together; for they seem to be
beasts sensitive to the cold, and this is a clear, bright, crystal
morning, with a cool, northwest wind. So there lie these four black
swine, as deep among the straw as they can burrow, the very symbols of
slothful ease and sensuous comfort. They seem to be actually oppressed
and overburdened with comfort. They are quick to notice any one's
approach, and utter a low grunt thereupon,--not drawing a breath for
that particular purpose, but grunting with their ordinary breath,--at
the same time turning an observant, though dull and sluggish, eye upon
the visitor. They seem to be involved and buried in their own corporeal
substance, and to look dimly forth at the outer world. They breathe not
easily, and yet not with difficulty nor discomfort; for the very
unreadiness and oppression with which their breath comes appears to make
them sensible of the deep sensual satisfaction which they feel. Swill,
the remnant of their last meal, remains in the trough, denoting that
their food is more abundant than even a hog can demand. Anon, they fall
asleep, drawing short and heavy breaths, which heave their huge sides up
and down; but at the slightest noise they sluggishly unclose their eyes,
and give another gentle grunt. They also grunt among themselves, without
any external cause; but merely to express their swinish sympathy. I
suppose it is the knowledge that these four grunters are doomed to die
within two or three weeks that gives them a sort of awfulness in my
conception. It makes me contrast their present gross substance of
fleshly life with the nothingness speedily to come. Meantime the four
newly-bought pigs are running about the cow-yard, lean, active, shrewd,
investigating everything, as their nature is. When I throw an apple
among them, they scramble with one another for the prize, and the
successful one scampers away to eat it at leisure. They thrust their
snouts into the mud, and pick a grain of corn out of the rubbish.
Nothing within their sphere do th