posies in the front yard, and a-plenty of rats in the cellar; there was
half an acre of ground out back, but so little room inside that I had to
sit with my feet out a window. It was just the place to go for a picnic,
but it's been my experience that a fellow does most of his picnicking
before he's married.

Your Ma did the cooking, and I hustled for things to cook, though I
would take a shy at it myself once in a while and get up my muscle
tossing flapjacks. It was pretty rough sailing, you bet, but one way and
another we managed to get a good deal of satisfaction out of it, because
we had made up our minds to take our fun as we went along. With most
people happiness is something that is always just a day off. But I have
made it a rule never to put off being happy till to-morrow. Don't accept
notes for happiness, because you'll find that when they're due they're
never paid, but just renewed for another thirty days.

I was clerking in a general store at that time, but I had a little
weakness for livestock, even then; and while I couldn't afford to plunge
in it exactly, I managed to buy a likely little shoat that I reckoned on
carrying through the Summer on credit and presenting with a bill for
board in the Fall. He was just a plain pig when he came to us, and we
kept him in a little sty, but we weren't long in finding out that he
wasn't any ordinary root-and-grunt pig. The first I knew your Ma was
calling him Toby, and had turned him loose. Answered to his name like a
dog. Never saw such a sociable pig. Wanted to sit on the porch with us.
Tried to come into the house evenings. Used to run down the road
squealing for joy when he saw me coming home from work.

Well, it got on towards November and Toby had been making the most of
his opportunities. I never saw a pig that turned corn into fat so fast,
and the stouter he got the better his disposition grew. I reckon I was
attached to him myself, in a sort of a sneaking way, but I was mighty
fond of hog meat, too, and we needed Toby in the kitchen. So I sent
around and had him butchered.

When I got home to dinner next day, I noticed that your Ma looked mighty
solemn as she set the roast of pork down in front of me, but I strayed
off, thinking of something else, as I carved, and my wits were off wool
gathering sure enough when I said:

"Will you have a piece of Toby, my dear?"

Well sir, she just looked at me for a moment, and then she burst out
crying and ran away fro