Word: porkers
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Blandings Castle, the Shropshire seat of pig-mad, sieve-memoried Clarence, ninth Earl of Emsworth, is once more the scene of action, and the threatened abduction of his prize porker, the Empress of Blandings, is again a mainspring of the plot. Before the final exposure, young love is triumphant and the Empress back snuffling...
Caught between AAA pig purges and the historic drought of 1934, the pig population of the U. S. took a mighty tumble. In 1933, when little pigs first got the attention of Franklin Roosevelt's planned agricultural economy, the porker crop was a whacking 84,200,000. For 1935 the crop fell to 55,086,000 and pork prices soared (peak: $10.95 per cwt. in September). Since then the crop has increased every year...
...ability of hogs. On April 6 you state that "pigs eat coal with relish, digest it with ease." This idea was rooted in a statement in my Next Hundred Years- ''Hogs eat coal and enjoy it" (TIME, June 1). Hogs undoubtedly eat coal. Many a mid-western porker sees the black lumps of bituminous coal constantly before him supplied by his indulgent master. If munching effectively and with gusto is a mark of enjoyment, then the pigs actually enjoy this unusual foodstuff, apparently considerably more than the average American enjoys his daily slabs of charred bread at breakfast...
...best medium-weight hogs in Chicago last week packers were paying $11 per cwt. Including processing tax a fat, tender 250-lb. porker cost nearly $30. In 1932 the same animal would have brought less than $9. Such fine pig news should have excited farmers of the Midwest but they were singularly apathetic about hog headlines. Fact was, they had very few pigs to sell...
...last week caught the hiccups. For three nights its pen, in Birmingham, Ala., echoed with a silly incessant guffaw. Owner of the pig, one Joseph St. George, deprived of sleep, surveyed his eccentric porker. He ordered a large plate of "swill" to be brought. This the pig ate greedily and continued hiccupping. Mr. St. George whacked the pig's back with a trowel; still the idiotic grunts continued. Then Mr. St. George soaked the pig with ice cold water; no cure. At last Joseph St. George came with a little perfumed sponge which he pushed against...