“You have, p’raps, heard of Major Roger Sherman Potter?  That’s my name,” resumed the major, a smile of confidence lighting up his features, as he extended his right hand, and patted the swine driver good naturedly upon the shoulder with his left.  “I bear no man malice, am known over the country as Major Potter, the honest in trade and strong in politics.”

“I have myself had something to do with politics,” moodily muttered the swine driver, relieving his shoulder of the steelyards.

And while this colloquy was proceeding, the herd nestled down upon the ground to rest.  One, more sagacious than his fellows, made a companion of the dog, at whose side he stretched himself, and laid his head upon his shoulder with an air of kindness and affection quite uncommon to his species.  “That pig,” spoke the swine driver, “seems a more cunning brute than our New York politicians, for he makes friends with his enemy, and by that means secures his peace, if not his services.  He has conciliated the good that is in the dog, and now the dog is his firm friend.  He will let that pig have the better half of his meal, while he would not permit another to come within barking distance of his trough.”  Here the swine driver entered upon a history of this sagacious animal, which it will be necessary to preserve for a future chapter in this history.  It may, however, be well here to say, as well for the benefit of the reader as for the instruction of mankind in general, that Felix Shulbert (for such was the swine driver’s name) bought him of Father Fenshew, a poor priest of great learning, who had so cultivated the pig’s understanding, that he could give his approval or dissent to the canons of the church quite as well as some popular members of the ecclesiastical councils of which the reverend and very learned Father was an ornament.  As to politics, he knew a great deal more of them, notwithstanding he mixed less with those who made them a profession.

“Now, tell us, honest man, what through life has befallen thee to produce this sadness?” inquired the facetious major, adding, that he saw the tale of his trouble written in his face.

The swine driver replied, that disappointment, and the malice of enemies, and the false reports of evil minded damsels, had reduced him to poverty, and poverty had forced him into the trade of swine selling, which he followed in the hope of getting a living that would be acceptable to heaven.  An air of deeper sadness now overshadowed his countenance, and raising the coarse straw hat from his head, he wiped the sweat from his safron-colored brow, and heaved a sigh.  The major having introduced me to the herdsman as the greatest politician Cape Cod had ever given the world, drew forth his never failing flask, which he said contained a panacea for all ills of the mind, and enjoined him to partake.  The man exhibited no timidity in accepting the invitation, for having taken two or three swallows, he smacked his lips in approval, and said, he already felt it mellowing his temper.  He then searched in his wallet, and finding some crusts and a ham bone, threw them to his dog, who generously shared them with his companion, the pig.  This done, we took seats by the roadside, while the drover began, in brief, to recount his troubles.