nd
shut her eyes and wave her ears whilst the pigs was milking her, and
look as happy as if she was on salary. And pretty soon you'd hear a
loafer sing out, "Hi! _so_ boy! sick him, Tige!" and away the sow
would go, squealing most horrible, with a dog or two swinging to each
ear, and three or four dozen more a-coming; and then you would see all
the loafers get up and watch the thing out of sight, and laugh at the
fun and look grateful for the noise. Then they'd settle back again
till there was a dog-fight. There couldn't anything wake them up all
over, and make them happy all over, like a dog-fight--unless it might
be putting turpentine on a stray dog and setting fire to him, or tying
a tin pan to his tail and see him run himself to death.

On the river-front some of the houses was sticking out over the bank,
and they was bowed and bent, and about ready to tumble in. The people
had moved out of them. The bank was caved away under one corner of
some others, and that corner was hanging over. People lived in them
yet, but it was dangersome, because sometimes a strip of land as wide
as a house caves in at a time. Sometimes a belt of land a quarter of a
mile deep will start in and cave along and cave along till it all
caves into the river in one summer. Such a town as that has to be
always moving back, and back, and back, because the river's always
gnawing at it.

The nearer it got to noon that day the thicker and thicker was the
wagons and horses in the streets, and more coming all the time.
Families fetched their dinners with them from the country, and eat
them in the wagons. There was considerable whisky-drinking going on,
and I seen three fights. By and by somebody sings out:

"Here comes old Boggs!--in from the country for his little old monthly
drunk; here he comes, boys!"

All the loafers looked glad; I reckoned they was used to having fun
out of Boggs. One of them says:

"Wonder who he's a-gwyne to chaw up this time. If he'd a-chawed up all
the men he's ben a-gwyne to chaw up in the last twenty year he'd have
considerable ruputation now."

Another one says, "I wisht old Boggs 'd threaten me, 'cuz then I'd
know I warn't gwyne to die for a thousan' year."

Boggs comes a-tearing along on his horse, whooping and yelling like an
Injun, and singing out:

"Cler the track, thar. I'm on the waw-path, and the price uv coffins
is a-gwyne to raise."

He was drunk, and weaving about in his saddle; he was over fifty ye