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御宅屋 > 其它小说 > 伊利亚随笔 > A DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG

A DISSERTATION UPON ROAST PIG

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  mankind, says a ese nuscript, whichfriend m. was obliging enough to read and explain to , for the first seventy thousand ages ate their at raw, clawing or biting it frothe living anil, just as they do in abyssinia to this day. this period is not obscurely hi by their great fucius in the sed chapter of his muations, where he designates a kind of golden age by the tercho-fang, literally the cooks holiday. the nuscript goes on to say, that the art of roasting, or rather broiling (which i take to be the elder brother) was actally dvered in the nner following. the swine-herd, ho-ti, having go into the woods oneas his nner was, tllect st for his hogs, left hittage in the care of his eldest son bo-bo, a great lubberly boy, who being fond of playing with fire, as younkers of his age only are, let so sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which kindling quickly, spread the flagration over every part of their poor nsion, till it was reduced to ashes. together with thttage (a sorry antediluvian ke-shift of a building, you y think it), what was of ch re iortance, a fiter of new-farrowed pigs, han nine in nuer, perished. a pigs have beeeed a luxury all over the east frothe retest periods that we read of. bo-bo was ist sternation, as you y think, not so ch for the sake of the te, which his father and huld easily build up again with a few dry branches, and the labour of an hour or two, at any ti, as for the loss of the pigs. while he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands over the sking reants of one of those untily sufferers, an odour assailed his nostrils, unlike any st whic&a;a;lt;cite&a;a;gt;藏书网&a;a;lt;/cite&a;a;gt;h he had before experienced. whauld it proceed fro? -- not frothe burnttage -- he had slt that sll before -- ihis was by no ans the first act of the kind which had ourred through the negligence of this unlucky young fire-brand. much less did it resele that of any known herb, weed, or flower. a prenitory istening at the sa ti overflowed his her lip. he knew not what to think. hestooped down to feel the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. he burnt his fingers, and tol thehe applied thein his booby fashion to his uth. so of the cru of therched skin had e away with his fingers, and for the first ti in his life (in the worlds life indeed, for before hino n had known it) he tasted -- crag! again he felt and fuled at the pig. it did not burn hiso ow, still he licked his fingers froa sort of habit. the truth at length broke into his slow uanding, that it was the pig that slt so, and the pig that tasted so delicious; and, surrendering hielf up to the new-born pleasure, he fell to tearing up whole handfuls of therched skin with the fleshit, and was craing it down his throat in his beastly fashion, when his sire entered ad the sking rafters, ard with retributory cudgel, and finding how affairs stood, began to rain blows upon the young rogues shoulders, as thick as hail-stones, which bo-bo heeded not any re than if they had been flies. the tig pleasure, which he experienced in his lions, had rendered hiquite callous to any inveniences he ght feel in those rete quarters. his father ght lay on but huld not beat hifrohis pig, till he had fairly de an end of it, when, being a little re sensible of his situation, sothing like the following dialogue ensued.

  &a;a;a;quot;you graceless whelp, what have you got there dev? is it not enough that you have burntdown three houses with ys tricks, and be hao you, but you st be eating fire, and i know not what -- what have you got there, i say ?&a;a;a;quot;

  &a;a;a;quot;o father, the pig, the pig, do e and taste how he burnt pig eats.&a;a;a;quot;

  the ears of ho-ti tingled with horror. he cursed his son, and he cursed hielf that ever he should beget a son that should eat burnt pig.

  bo-bo, whose st was wonderfully sharpened sincesoon raked out an, and fbbr&a;a;gt;?99lib?&a;a;lt;/abbr&a;a;gt;airly rending it asuhrust the lesser half by in forto the fists of ho-ti, still shouting out &a;a;a;quot;eat, eat, eat the burnt pig, father, only taste -- o lord,&a;a;a;quot; -- with such-like barbarous ejaculations, craing all the while as if he would choke.

  ho-ti treled every joint while he grasped the abohing, wavering whether he should not put his son to death for an unnatural young nster, when the crag sc his fingers, as it had done his sons, and applying the sa redy to the he in his turn tasted so of its flavour, which, ke what sour uths he would for a pretence, proved not altogether displeasing to hi in clusion (for the nuscript here is a little tedious) both father and son fairly sat down to the ss, and never left off till they had despatched all that reined of the litter.

  bo-bo was strictly enjoined not to let the secret escape, for the neighbours would certainly have stohefor uple of abonable wretches, whuld think of iroving upon the good at which god had sent the heless, straories got about. it was observed that ho-tittage was burnt down now re frequently than ever. nothing but fires frothis ti forward. so would break out in broad day, others in the night-ti. as often as the sow farrowed, so sure was the house of ho-ti to be in a blaze; and ho-ti hielf, which was the re rerkable, instead of chastising his son, seed to grow re indulgent to hithan ever. at length they were watched, the terrible stery dvered, and father and son suoo take their trial at pekin, then an insiderable assize town. evidence was given, the obnoxious food itself produced iurt, and verdict about to be pronounced, when the foren of the jury begged that so of the burnt pig, of which the culprits stood aused, ght be handed into the box. he ha, and they all ha, and burning their fingers, as bo-bo and his father had done before the and nature proting to each of thethe sa redy, against the face of all the facts, and the clearest charge which judge had ever given, -- to the surprise of the wholurt, towns- folk, strangers, reporters, and all present -- without leaving the box, or any nner of sul&a;a;lt;sa&a;a;gt;&a;a;lt;/sa&a;a;gt;tation whatever, they brought in a siltaneous verdict of not guilty.

  the judge, who was a shrewd fellow, wi theiniquity of the decision: and, when thurt was disssed, went privily, and bought up all the pigs thauld be had for love or ney. in a few days his lordships town house was observed to be on fire. the thing took wing, and now there was nothing to be seen but fires in every dire. fuel and pigs grew enorusly dear all over the district. the insurance offices one and all shut up shop. people built slighter and slighter every day, until it was feared that the very sce of architecture would in no long ti be lost to the world. thus thisof firing houses tiill in process of ti, saysnuscript, a sage arose, like our locke, who de a dvery, that the flesh of swine, or indeed of any other anil, ght boked (burnt, as they called it) without the y of ing a whole house to dress it. then first began the rude forof a gridiron. roasting by the string, or spit, ca in a tury or two later, i fet in whose dynasty. by such slow degrees, cludes the nuscript, do the st useful, and seengly the st obvious arts, ke their way ang n-kind.

  without plag too ilicit faith i above given, it st be agreed, that if a worthy pretext for so dangerous an experint as setting houses on fire (especially in these daysuld be assigned in favour of any ary object, that pretext and excuse ght be found in roast pig.

  of all the delicacies in the whole ndus edibilis, i will intain it to be the st delicate -- princeps obsonioru

  i speak not of yrown porkers -- things between pig and pork -- those hobbydehoys -- but a young and tender sug -- under a on old -- guiltless as yet of the sty -- with ninal speck of the ar iunditiae, the hereditary failing of the first parent, yet-- his voice as yet not broken, but sothiween a childish treble, and a grule -- the ld forerunner, or praeludiu of a grunt.

  he st be roasted. i anot ignorant that our aors ate theseethed, or boiled -- but what a sacrifice of the exteriunt!

  there is no flavour parable, i will tend, to that of the crisp, tawny, well-watched, not over-roasted, crag, as it is well called -- the very teeth are io their share of the pleasure at this ba inthy, brittle resistance -- with the adhesive oleaginous -- o call it not fat -- but an indefinable sweetness growing up to it -- the tender blossong of fat -- fat cropped in the bud -- taken in the shoot -- in the first innoce -- the creaand quintessence of the child-pigs yet pure food -- the lean, no lean, but a kind of anil nna -- or, rather, fat and lean (if it st be so) so blended and running into each other, that both together ke but one arosia, or on substance.

  behold hi while he is doing -- it seeth rather a refreshing warh, than a sc heat, that he is so passive to. how equably he twirleth round the string! -- now he is just doo see the extre sensibility of that tender age, he hath wept out his pretty eyes -- radia? jellies -- shooting stars -

  see hiin the dish, his sed cradle, how ek he lieth wouldst thou have had this i grow up to the grossness and indocility which too often apany turer swinehood? ten to one he would have proved a glutton, a sloven, an obstinate, disagreeable anil -- wallowing in all nner of filthy versation -- frothese sins he is happily snatched away -

  ere siuld blight, or sorrow fade,

  death ca with tily care -

  his ry is odoriferous -- nocurseth, while his stoch half rejecteth, the rank ba -- nalheaver bolteth hiin reeking sausages -- he hath a fair sepulchre in the grateful stoch of the judicious epicure -- and for such a to ght be tent to die.

  he is the best of sapors. pine-apple is great. she is indeed alst too tra -- a delight, if not sinful, yet so like to sinning, that really a tender-sced person would do well to pause -- too ravishing for rtal taste, she wouh and riateth the lips that approach her -- like lovers kisses, she biteth she is a pleasure b on pain frothe fieress and insanity of her relish -- but she stoppeth at the palate -- she ddleth not with the appetite -- and tharsest hunger ght barter her sistently for a tton chop.

  pig -- letspeak his praise -- is no less provocative of the appetite, than he is satisfactory to the critiess of the palate. the strong n y batten on hi and the weakling refuseth not his ld juices.

  uo nkinds xed characters, a bundle of virtues and vices, inexplicably iwisted, and not to be unravelled without hazard, he is good throughout. no part of hiis better or worse than another. he helpeth, as far as his little aend, all around. he is the least envious of bas. he is all neighbours fare.

  i aone of those, who freely and ungrudgingly iart a share of the good things of this life which fall to their lot (few as ne are in this kind) to a friend. i protest i take as great an i infriends pleasures, his relishes, and proper satisfas, as in ne own. &a;a;a;quot;presents,&a;a;a;quot; i often say, &a;a;a;quot;endear absents.&a;a;a;quot; hares, pheasants, partridges, snipes, barn-door chi (those &a;a;a;quot;ta villatic fo;quot;), s, plovers, brawn, barrels of oysters, i dispense as freely as i receive the i love to taste the as it were, upoongue offriend. but a stop st be put sowhere. one would not, like lear,&a;a;a;quot; give every thing.&a;a;a;quot; i kestand upon pig. methinks it is an ingratitude to the giver of all good flavours, to extra-dociliate, or send out of the house, slightingly, (under pretext of friendship, or i know not what) a blessing so particularly adapted, predestined, i y say, toindividual palate -- it argues an insensibility.

  i reer a touch of s this kind at sy good old aunt, who never parted fro at the end of a holiday without stuffing a sweet-at, or so hing, intopocket, had disssedone evening with a sking plucake, fresh frothe oven. inway to school (it was over londe) a grey-headed old beggar saluted(i have no doubt at this ti of day that he was a terfeit). i had no peo sole hiwith, and in the vanity of self-denial, and the very bry of charity, school-boy-like, i a;lt;tt&a;a;gt;?t&a;a;gt;ade hia present of -- the whole cake! i walked on a little, buoyed up, as one is on such oasions, with a sweet soothing of self-satisfa; but before i had got to the end of the bridge,better feelings returned, and i burst into tears, thinking how ungrateful i had been togood aunt, to go and give her good gift away to a strahat i had never seen before, and who ght be a bad n fht i knew; and then i thought of the pleasureaunt would be taking in thinking that i -- i self, and not another -- would eat her nice cake -- and what should i say to her the i i saw her -- how naughty i was to part with her pretty present -- and the odour of that spicy cake ca back uponlle, and the pleasure and the curiosity i had taken in seeing her ke it, and her joy when she sent it to the oven, and how disappointed she would feel that i had never had a bit of it inuth at last -- and i bladierti spirit of ai-giving, and out-of-place hypocrisy of goodness, and above all i wished o see the face again of that insidious, good-for-nothing, old grey iostor.

  our aors were ni their thod of sacrifig these tender victi. we read of pigs whipt to death with sothing of a shock, as we hear of any other obsolete . the age of discipline is gone by, or it would be curious to inquire (in a philosophical light rely) what effect this process ght have towards iing and dulcifying a substanaturally so ld and dulcet as the flesh of young pigs. it looks like refining a violet. yet we should be cautious while we n the inhunity, how we sure the wisdoof the practice. it ght iart a gusto -

  i reer an hypothesis, argued upon by the young students, when i was at st. ors, and intained with ch learning and pleasantry on both sides, &a;a;a;quot;whether, supposing that the flavour of a pig who obtained his death by whipping (per flagellatiore superadded a pleasure upon the palate of a n re intehan any possible suffering weceive in the anil, is n justified in using that thod of putting the anil to death ?&a;a;a;quot; i fet the decision.

  his sauce should be sidered. decidedly, a few bread cru, done up with his liver and brains, and a dash of ld sage. but, banish, dear mrs. cook, i beseech you, the whole onion tribe. barbecue your whole hogs to your palate, steep thein shalots, stuff theout with plantations of the rank and guilty garlic; you ot poison the or ke thestrohan they are -- but sider, he is a weakling -- a flower.

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