her own language, and alarmed the servants, who came to see what was the matter. I told them their old sow was going to swallow me up alive, bid them go and bring her meat, which they did, and the brute became peaceable. On the Sabbath morning I came into the house, the goodman asked me if I could shave any: yes, said I, but never did on the sabbath day. I fancy, said he, you are some Westland Whig? Sir, said I, you may suppose me to be what you think proper to-day, but yesternight you used me like a Tory, when you sent me into the sty to lie in your sow’s oxter, who is a fitter companion for a devil than any human creature; the most abominable brute upon the earth, said I, who was forbidden to be eaten under the law, and cursed under the gospel. Be they cursed or be they blessed, said he, I wish I had anew of them: but an’ ye will not take aff my beard, ye’se get nae meat here the day; then said I, if ye will not give me meat and drink for money, until the sabbath be past, I’ll take on my wallet, and go along with you to the kirk, and tell your minister how you used me as a hog. No, said the goodwife, you will not want your crowdle, man. But my heart being full of sorrow and revenge a few of them sufficed me, whereon I passed over that long day, and at night went to sleep with my old companions, which was not sound, being afraid of mistress sow coming to revenge the quarrel we had the night before. On the morning I went into the house, the goodman ordered me the pottage pot to lick; for, says he, it is an old property of chapmen. Well, I had no sooner began to it, than out came a great mastiff dog from below the bed, and grips me by the breast, then turns me over upon my back, and takes the pot himself. Ay, ay, said the goodman, I think your brother pot-licker and you cannot agree about your breakfast. Well, said I, goodman, you said that pot-licking was a chapman’s property, but your dog proves the contrary. So away I comes, and meeting the goodwife at the door, bade her farewell for ever; but what, said I, is your husband’s name? to which she answered, John Swine: I was thinking so, said I, he has such dirty fashions; but whether was yon his mother or his sister I lay with these two nights?