Once, In My Indignation At Finding My Palings Broken Down, And Some
Sugar-Cane, That I Had Been Most Carefully
Rearing, rooted up and
destroyed, while the author of the mischief, a huge sow, innocent of the
restraining ring (I
Would have hung the ring of the 'Devastation's' best
bower-anchor to her snout, had I been allowed to follow out my wishes),
stood gloating over the havoc she had caused. Then, in my wrath, I had
hastily loaded a carbine with a handful of salt, and prematurely converted
a portion of my enemy's flank into bacon; but even this just act of
retribution was not to be accomplished without further loss to myself, for
on receipt of my hint to move on, her sowship dashed straight ahead, and
brought down a whole panel of my fence about her ears, owing to which the
village cows, which I had often observed throwing longing glances over the
paling at my bananas, doubtless apprised of their opportunity by the
evil-minded and malicious sow, took a mean advantage of the weakness of my
defences, and on the same night devoured everything in the garden that they
thought worthy of their attention.
Though I had now become hardened to the many injuries thus heaped upon me,
and had almost discontinued all attempts at cultivation, I still retained
the habit of stepping out into the verandah every morning with my gun, but
more with an eye to the pot than for any other reason.
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