"Why them pigs is drunk!" he cried. "They act just like my pa!"
Wesley turned on Margaret.
"Where did you put the leavings from that grape juice?" he demanded.
"I sent Billy to throw it in the woods."
"Billy" began Wesley.
"Threw it just where she told me to," cried Billy. "But some of the pigs came by there coming into the pen, and some were close in the fence corners."
"Did they eat it?" demanded Wesley.
"They just chanked into it," replied Billy graphically. "They pushed, and squealed, and fought over it. You couldn't blame 'em! It was the best stuff I ever tasted!"
Faint squealing, punctuated by feeble crows filled the long pause which ensued.
"Margaret," said Welsey, "run, 'phone that doctor he won't be needed. Billy, take Elnora and Mr. Ammon to see the bugs. Katharine, suppose you help me a little."
Wesley took the clothes basket from the back porch and started in the direction of the cellar. Margaret returned from the telephone.
"I just caught him," she said. "There's that much saved. Why, Wesley, what are you going to do?"
"You go sit on the front porch a little while," said Wesley. "You will feel better if you don't see this."
"Wesley," cried Margaret aghast. "Some of that wine is ten years old. There's days and days of hard work in
