A cow waded through it and the family hens fattened on it.

Opposite our window in one of the buildings dwelt an enormous sow with a large litter of young ones.

When any of the ladies of the family went to throw refuse on the manure heap, the old sow, driven by the pangs of hunger, would stand on her hind legs and poke her huge face out over the half door of her prison appealing in pig language for some of the discarded dainties.

Often nothing would stop her squeals but a smart slap on her fat cheeks by the lady's tender hand.

In the hayloft of the barn the men were quartered.