ORIGINAL TALE.

Tuapeka Times, Volume VI, Issue 268, 20 March 1873, Page 6

ORIGINAL TALE.

LAIRD RAGS AND HIS PIG. BY CRAIG£E£BE_ Laird Rags was a member of a small community in a country district,: and was much distinguished for his meanness, as his primitive neighbors were for their genuine warm heartedness toward one another. Indeed, he got the nick-name of Laird Rags from his penurious disposition. It was the custom in the village for each householder to keep a pig ; and it was also tie custom, when a pig was killed, the owner sent, as a token of good will, a bit of it to his nearest friends and neighbors; and so it went through the village, the Laird getting his share amongst the rest. Now, it so happened that he had _a very fine pig of his own — fat and ready for killing, but which he seemed by no means inclined to kill. A wag, however, who lived hard by, had made up his mind that the Laird's pig should be killed, and he lost no time in putting his resolution into effect. So one morning he strolled into the Laird's bail yard to have a smoke and crack, the Laird himself being busy digging his potatoes. After the usual salutations were over, the wag commenced operations, by saying, " Man, Laird, that's a splendid pig of yours. What for are ye no kif.in r't ? v " What's the use o' me killin' 't," said the Laird, "if I'm to gie a bit o' the sow to every ane I hae got a bit frae ? I'll no hae the tail o't left to myself!" " Man," says the wag, "ye wad be a greenhorn to pairt wi' as much as a cloot o' yer pig. I'll p^t you up to a trick worth twa o' that, and naebody will be the wiser but you and me. My plan is this — I'll come over in the gloaming, and gie you a hand to kill the pig ; in the meantime, have you plenty of water scalding hot to plout the beast, and when we've got it a' sorted, we'll carry it to the house, and hang it up by the heels, until it gets cauld. Then about three in the morning, yell come into the outhouse wi' a lantern, aaid cut the sow down and put it into the barrel, and I'll come as soon as it's daylight and see how you are looking." " Man," said the Laird, " that's a most famous plan, and if ye would really help me at this pinch, hang me if I don't gie you the four feet and the liver. It's a firstrate plan, nueboily will ever suspect." " Deevil an ane," said the wag. " But, I say, Laird, I maur get a dram, as well as the feet and liver. " Weel," said the Laird. " it's against my principles, either to gie drink or to talc it mysell, except at times when it's pressed upon me against my will, but as I consider this a case o' positive needcessity, we'll no cast out about the dram." "There's another thins; Laird, said the wag, " you must swear through thick and thin, that the sow's Bteal't. If you don't do that, 1.l never help you agnin." " You may depend your life upon me, I'll swear through thick and thin, that the sow's steal't ; and how are they to prove the contrar?" "Weel, Laird," said his friend, " it's a settler ; get ye the scalding water ready, and I'll be over in the gloaming, and we'll soon settle the business; but be sure and stick to your word, and swear that *he aow's Bteal't." " You may take your bible oath -upon that," said the Laird, and off went his future tormentor to make his other arrangements, which will be eeen in the sequel of the story. True to his word, he came over to the Laird in the gloaming, the devoted pig waskilled, plouted, dressed, carried to the out-house, and hung up by the heels — as all good fat pigs should be. The Laird was in great glee. His friend got his dram, and was offered the four ieet and the liver, which he modestly declined, saying, "he would bring -a pock to put them in, and take them with him in the morning." On leaving the Laird, he lost no time in seeking out a trustj friend, to whom he relatedhis adventure, as far as it has gone. They agreed to get a hand barrow, and make the best of their way to the Laird's out-house, cut down the pig, and make off with it, &vt hour before the Laird's appointed time. This they accomplished without let or hindrance, or anything happening to mar their deep laid scheme. In the meantime, the .Laird had gone to bed, greatly comforted at the way he had outwitted his more generous neighbors. Exactly as the clock struck 3, up got the Laird, lighted his lantern, and, armed with a large gully knife, sallied forth to the out-honse, to cut down the pig and put it in the barrel ; but how shall I attempt to paint the broad stare of astonishment which the li=urd gavels he stood with his sleeves rolled up, the knPe firm clenched in his grip, the lantern in his other hand ; lie looked the very picture of unutterable despair j lie gave a jell of horror, when, j suddenly composing himself, he thought it might it might be possible that it was all a dream, and that his beloved pig was still in the enjoyment of good, health. With this fond delusion, he rushed out to the late pig's domicile and cried "Gnsey? gusey! poor gusey!" It was of no use — there was no pig fchere ; and he lifted .up his voice and wept sore. From the late pig's residence he rushed into his own, sat down by , tho (ire, wrung his hands in despair, and looked altogether the very picture, of utter desolation. Daylight at last • dawned upon this scene of human mitery, when wbo should come in but his remorseless tormentor, smiling from

ear to ear. " Good morning to you, Laird. How did you get on with the pig?" Said the Laird. "Dinna speak to me about the pig ; the pig's stealt." " First-rate," replied the way ; " firstrate. Stick ye to that and there's nae fear o' ye." " But I tell you again," said the Laird, "just as sure as death has to break my heart, somebody has come in the night time and stealt my sow." " Nothing could be better, bless me, Laird. You would have made a perfect fortune if ye had been a playactor, you are acting this'so naturally." " JL> you," says the Laird, losing all patience ; " I'm no acting. I^'s God's truth I'm telling you j my sow's stealt." " Yon fairly take the shine out of me, Laird. I have no chance with you ; but you must keep it up through thick and thin that the sow's stealt. In the meantime I must be off and send it through the town that some villains have come in the night time and stealt your sow ;" and off he went, leaving the Laird to console himself with the four feet and the liver, which he was so generous as to offer him for his trouble.