Hudson, who is a general dealer, purchased a cottage, to which pertained
amongst other _furniture_ a sty. As this was of course uninhabited, his
first care was to supply it with inmates, and, having purchased a couple of
fine pigs, he set off homewards with his bargains comfortably lodged in his
cart. Upon arriving at Buenos Ayres, a part of the harness broke, down went
the cart, and out shot Hudson and his bristly companions backwards; but
unfortunately falling upon one of the poor animals, he crushed him to
death. This was bad, Hudson looked blank, as who does not upon perceiving
Dame Fortune playing him foul? and woeful was it indeed to witness death
amongst his live stock; in this dilemma however, his wits did not utterly
forsake him, and concluding that if he could make the animal bleed, it
would probably be marketable and not prove a _dead_ loss, he proceeded to
act on this prudent supposition, and immediately cut its throat; which
sanguinary act so alarmed the companion pig, that taking to his heels, he
instantly made off (like his swinish brethren of old) towards the sea. Poor
Hudson, between the dead and the living pig, was dreadfully distressed,
being apprehensive of losing both; however being fortunate enough to engage
a man to pursue the absconded delinquent, he proceeded home with the
defunct, and by dint of ablutions, and scrapings, &c. really made of it "a
very pretty pig." This done, it was hung up in the dairy or beer-cellar, I
know not which, ready for market, and if Hudson plumed himself upon
cheating fortune at least in one instance, he was not to blame; but, lo! in
the morning, poor pig, presented a hideous and horrible spectacle, and poor
Hudson stood aghast to behold it! The cats had made during the night so
plentiful a repast upon his new purchase, so that instead of a handsome
corpse there remained only a mangled assemblage of bloody bones, and
fragments of flesh! Poor Hudson! but after all, these misfortunes were
mainly attributable to his own carelessness, and as to whether he ever
recovered his truant pig, I cannot say; perhaps the man may be in pursuit
of him still.