The Pig and the Man

CHARACTER AND MISSION OF LATTER-DAY SAINTS. 1061 I am before a congregation of people who have not a superior, at least, anywhere in the world. My brethren and sisters, let us maintain our integrity, our high standard, our faith, our religion, our devotion to the cause of Zion and the redemption of the misguided, the saving of the erring and those who have fallen in sin. As far as it is within our power, let us save our young people from falling into sin, keep them from going astray. The way to do that is to keep a kind but firm hand upon them all the time — know where they are at night, know whose company they are in, what kind of people they are associating with, and guard them carefully, that they may not become a prey to the destroyer. Gospel Messengers. (For the Improvement Era.) Out of the blazing West they came, All armed with Truth and Light: Today a battle's lost or won, — They speed on wings of Right! Over the perilous plains they fly To lands of far away, To conquer there, or there to die, In the cause of Dawning Day. Full up the rugged steeps they climb, All set with cunning snares, To trip them in a hapless time, To catch them unawares. But on they press with dauntless hearts; They strike down every foe. In God alone they put their trust, And conquer as they go! Into the realm of reigning night, With banners all unfurled, They make their stand and fight their fight For the Day Dawn in the world. Then give them vict'ry, Lord of hosts, And let thy Light prevail, And when that Day dawns on the world, ' May all its dawning hail! Louis W. Larsen.

The Pig and the Man. BY H. R. MERRILL, AUTHOR OF "THE CALL OF AUTHORITY" AND "MY HOME AMONG THE HILLS." Sandy sat on the ditch bank holding his head in his hands. He was not feeling very well, for just the night before he had met some friends in town. Of course, all must treat, and as a result, Sandy was feeling queer. Occasionally he would take a drink from a flask that sat by his side, "just to sober up on," he said to himself. As he sat there dozing, with his eyes half closed, a pig came slowly along the end of the lucerne patch, his wobbling walk reminding Sandy of his friend's gait as he wobbled off toward home. He took another deep swig from his flask. By now his headache was partly assuag°d by his fresh intoxication, but he was very drowsy. The pig came ambling on, and Sandy seemed to find something very amusing in his face, for he laughed sleep- ily as the pig drew near. The new-comer stopped, surprised at the sudden noise, and looked into the man's red, swollen face. Sandy nodded good-humoredly, as he stretched out and allowed his head to rest upon the cool, soft grass that bordered the ditch. It seemed so comfortable, and the day was so warm, that Sandy closed his eyes contentedly. When he opened them again, he was surprised to see the pig standing upon his hind legs, dressed in man's attire. Sandy rubbed his eyes, and stared at the visitor a moment. "That's the funniest pig I ever saw,'' he muttered. "Looks something like a man, I swan if he doesn't!" The hog regarded the man critically for a moment, and then said, "Well, I didn't expect to find another pig out here."

THE PIG AND THE MAN. 1063 Sandy's eyes fairly popped with astonishment. He had never heard a pig talk before. "Say what are you?" he finally gasped. "I'm a pig," the visitor replied, "and you're another." "I ain't a pig!" Sandy cried indignantly. "Don't you dare call me a pig again!" "On second thought, I don't believe 1 will. I'd hate to claim relationship to you." The pig smiled condescendingly. "To me!" Sandy yelled. "You confounded old Baconsides! Do you know who you're talking to? A pig, indeed! I haven't a snout a foot long, with a ring in it, like yours." "No, .you havn't," the pig replied quietly. "But yours looks like a lump of beefs) eak, and ought to have a ring in it." Sandy looked cross-eyed at his nose, and felt of it to see really how big it was. "I'm not a pig, anyhow," he replied, a little subdued, for the visitor had very nearly told the truth. "Say, Baconsides, won't you have a drink?" He handed the half empty flask out to the hog. The hog smelled of it, and then shook his head. "No, I wouldn't care for any." "Why?" Sandy asked, surprised, for none of his friends of the day before' had refused. "It isn't poison." "Perhaps not," the pig replied, "but I think you have been drinking from that bottle." "Well, what if I have? That wouldn't hurt you, would it?" "I'm afraid it would. lean eat and drink almost anything, but that dirty tobacco is too much for me, and I'm sure you had your mouth full when you drank from that bottle." "By grannie, you're very particular! Say, do you know, Baconsides, I've got a mighty sweet little wife, and she even kisses me? Come along and drink — you're no better than she is." "I don't know how she ever does it. I'm sure I've been in nasty places, but nothing stinks worse than you do with that old pipe and plug, mingled with odors of whisky. Your wife is to be pitied if she has to kiss you." Sandy restrained his wrath with difficulty. "You old hypocrite! Don't you know my wife loves me, and

1064 IMPROVEMENT ERA. would do anything for me? If I asked her to kiss me, she'd do it." "She's a fool, then. You couldn't kiss my wife smelling as you do, and in your drunken condition — she wouldn't stand for it. You must not think much of your wife or you wouldn't ask her to do it." "I love my wife. She's the finest little woman in this coun- try," Sandy replied proudly. "I'd do anything for her." "Does she like to see you coming home drunk and smelling like a stale old to- bacco factory?" Sandy scratched his head. ."Well — er — no, she doesn't. Last night, when I got home, she felt awful bad and cried a a good deal, for, al- though I pretended not to, I could hear her sobbing softly to herself. No, she doesn't like to see me drunk." "Does she like to kiss you when your mouth is full of tobacco, and you smell like a whisky barrel besides?" Sandy was beginning to think the conversation was becom- ing too personal. He sat and sifted a handful of dirt carefully through his fingers before he replied. "No, I don't suppose she does," he finally said. "Now, would you like to kiss old man Jones?" Old man Jones was an inveterate tabacco-chewer, and stains From a sketch by George Atkinson 'THE pig and the man."

THE PIG AND THE MAN. 1065 from the filthy weed were usually plainly visible on his gray beard. "By crackey!" Sandy cried, relieved because the conversation had taken a turn. "I wouldn't kiss him if he'd give me his whole farm. Kiss old man Jones!" He lay back and laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks in streams. "My word, that would be a dose!" "Are you any better?" the pig asked. "Wasn't your mouth full of tobacco when you tried to kiss your wife this morning, on the porch, when she pushed you away? No wonder she wouldn't kiss you! If you were a gentleman you would never have asked her, or even appeared before her in the condition you were in; but you're not a gentleman — you're a pig — a dirty pig!" Sandy turned red in the face with shame and anger at this plain speech, for that was one reason why he had come out into the field, — he had attempted to kiss his wife, but she had pushed him away and called him a pig. "Well, may be I am a pig," he said sullenly, for he realized that he had acted no gentlemanly part towards his wife. "But I haven't a snout like yours," he continued. "I'm a man, and a gentleman. I pay my way, and smoke cigars in town. It was the drink that made me act so beastly." "No man would ever allow his appetite to rule him so far — only pigs do that. A man is not reckoned by his money, neither are all who smoke cigars gentlemen. In fact, no matter hoiv polished a man may be, if he smokes even cigars he just lacks that one point of being a true gentleman. A true gentleman will not satisfy his own abnormal appetites at the expense of his friends and loved ones. While he is puffing at one cigar, he may be rob- bing a dozen people of clean, pure air; and every glass of wine he drinks, sometimes adds just that much to the cup of sorrow that is being drained by a loved one. No, a man who smokes lacks that much of being a gentleman. He is that one point worse than a pig. A pig will rob his friends of food to satisfy his own hunger, but he will not rob them of the free gifts of God by doing that which does not even benefit himself." Sandy straightened up, and looked intently into the porker's sharp little eyes.

1066 IMPROVEMENT ERA. "Say, old man, you're a sage," he muttered, "I never looked at it just like that." "That's why I say you're a pig. Pigs never consider the rights of others — gentlemen do. I saw a party pass in a coach, the other day— a company of ladies and gentlemen. A young man got in at the crossing. He was dressed like a gentleman, and thought he was one. As soon as he, was seated, he drew a cigar- ette out of his pocket and began puffing away. He was robbing five persons to satisfy a craving of his own. He was selfish and ungentlemanly. Wasn't he a pig?" "Yes, that was a pigish trick," Sandy agreed. ' 'Now, suppose your wife should commence chewing tobacco, and should come home drunk, would you love her and kiss her as you do?" "No, sir! I'd leave her. I wouldn't have a dirty woman like that around me." The pig looked quisically at Sandy, and his little eyes seemed to convey a world of meaning, as he winked and pointed first one ear and then the other in Sandy's direction. Sandy began to feel uncomfortable, as the porker's meaning became clear to him. "I know a man," the hog continued, "who got married. He married a very sweet little woman who loved him dearly. He loved his wife, also, and tried to please her in every way, for a time — he even quit using tobacco for her sake. One day he began to use it again. For a while he used it secretly, and thought he would keep it from his wife, but tobacco is about as bad to hide as a skunk, and she soon discovered that he had been smoking. She said nothing at first, for she thought he had just taken an occasional smoke with a friend. Finally, he began to use it openly. She remonstrated with him, but he could not see that it was any of her business what he did, so he kept on. They were married then, you know. In this way he robbed her of her peace of mind, and some of the respect she had for him. Besides, he robbed her of clean, fresh air, and forced her to live in a nasty, sickening atmosphere, when he was present with her. He had become a tyrant in this, instead of a loving husband. One day he met some friends in town, and when he came home he was intoxicated. Imagine her feelings when she saw the man she loved in such a

THE PIG AND THE MAN. 1067 beastly condition. He tried to embrace her, drunkenly , but she pushed him away. Then he became angry, and said harsh words to her. He might have struck her, but she locked herself in her room. Was he a gentleman?" "No," Sandy replied meekly. "Now the young lady is almost broken-hearted. She has discovered that she married a pig — without the snout, it is true, but a pig, just the same. Her fine, gentlemanly husband has become a traitor, a drunkard and a pig, with a nose like a piece of raw beefsteak, and a breath that smells like a sewer pipe. Her idol is shattered, and the sunshine has been stolen from her life. She's crying up there in the house now, and you— are the pig." The porker pointed an accusing forefoot at the humbled man, and then quietly reached out and took the whisky bottle between his teeth. Sandy made a grab for it, but before he reached it he heard the glass crash. He opened his eyes just in time to see the pig disappearing in the tall grass. His flask lay broken upon the ground, and the sun was beating down upon his bare head. He had been asleep. He brushed the dirt from his trousers, as he arose from the ground, and tried to straighten his tangled hair. He recalled the conversation that he had with the pig in his dream, and glanced towards the house. He was almost sober now. His pipe was lying upon the ground ; he kicked it savagely into the ditch, as he removed the plug of tobacco from his pocket and dropped it into the water. "I've been a pig," he said to himself, "but I'm going to be a man now, and a gentleman, too, please God!" He washed his hands and face in the cold water, and then dried them upon his handkerchief. He picked up his hat, put it on his head, and started for the house. Sandy was thoroughly ashamed of himself. His dream had deeply impressed itself upon his mind. He realized how unkind and ungentlemanly he had been in dealing with his wife. He really loved her, and when he was made to see how degraded he had appeared in her eyes, tears of sorrow and repentance rolled down his cheeks. In the barnyard he could see the effects of his recent condition.

1068 IMPROVEMENT ERA. His buggy was not in the shed, and pieces of harness were lying about where he had dropped them in his drunken carelessness. He gathered up the harness, ran the buggy into its place, and then went on up the path towards the house. There every- thing was different: flowers lined the walk and everything was beautiful and orderly, the porch was clean and the dooryard was in perfect order. Sandy knew whose faithful hands had been at work there, and he thought of the happy days when he and his wife lived as married sweethearts together. In the old days his wife would have been at the door to meet him with a kiss; now the door was open, but the loved form was not there. He thought of the condition he was in when he entered the house the night before, and was not surprised that she did not come to greet him. He went into the kitchen. All was clean and quiet. The tinware shone like silver, from their pegs upon the wall, the range was polished until he could see his image in the nickel upon th.3 doors. He glanced around the room. Not a spot of dirt was vis- ible, excepting on the window sill, where one of his old, dirty pipes lay with the ashes strewn around it. He hastily took it up and, lifting a lid from the stove, dropped it into the fire. "Marks of the pig," he muttered. "This is no place for pigs to live, and there will be no room for one here any more." He went into the dining-room. His wife was busily engaged shelling peas, and only glanced up when he entered. Then she continued her work, without speaking a word. Sandy glanced at her closely. He could feel a blush of shame creeping over his face and neck, for he noticed that she had been weeping. It was not the same pleasant face that used to greet him in the days when they were newly wed. A few wrinkles had crept around the eyes, and the mouth was sad. Sandy noticed these signs of sorrow, and his eyes became moist with tears of contrition, as he took a step towards her. "Mary, may I come in?" he asked humbly. She glanced up, surprised at the question. "Why, certainly, you may do as you like." "Mary, I've come to ask forgiveness for what I did last night." She was about to make a cold reply, but glancing into his