A poor woman came to the parson of the parish with the request—"Please, pass'n! my ou'd sow be took cruel bad. I wish now you'd be so good as to come and say a prayer over her."
"A prayer! Goodness preserve us! I cannot come and pray over a pig—a pig, my dear Sally—that is not possible."
"Her be cruel bad, groaning and won't eat her meat. If her dies, pass'n—whativer shall we do i' the winter wi'out bacon sides, and ham. Oh dear! Do y' now, pass'n, come and say a prayer over my ou'd sow."
"I really—really must not degrade my sacred office. Sally! indeed I must not."
"Oh, pass'n! do y' now!" and the good creature began to sob.
The parson was a tender-hearted man, and tears were too much for him. He agreed to go to the cottage, see the pig, and do what he could.
Accordingly, he visited the patient, which lay groaning in the stye.
The woman gazed wistfully at the pastor, and waited for the prayer. Then the clergyman raised his right hand, pointed with one finger at the sow and said solemnly: "If thou livest, O pig! then thou livest. If thou diest, O pig! then thou diest."
Singularly enough the sow was better that same evening and ate a little wash. She was well and had recovered her appetite wholly next day.
Now it happened, some months after this that the rector fell very ill, with a quinsy that nearly choked him. He could not swallow, he could hardly breathe. His life was in imminent danger.