Somebody in the crowd gives the date of his birth, and at his master’s command Will selects the figures showing the man’s age. This is repeated a number of times for different individuals, to the wonder of the crowd. Then a watch is borrowed and the hog tells, in the same manner, the hour and minutes.
A suit of thirteen cards are substituted for the numbers, and the hog selects them as required to reply to various questions. After these have served their turn they are replaced by a number of cards on each of which is printed a single word in large type. Then the exhibitor continues in something like this manner:
“Now, Will, I suppose you are very much obliged to these ladies and gentlemen for their attendance this evening; [Will selects cards, on which is printed Yes; and now, Will, I want you to tell these ladies and gentlemen what day this is [hog dues so]; and what are you going to give the ladies that come to see you? [Kiss.] Well, that’s very gallant! And what reward do you want for amusing these people? [Corn.] And what induces me to exhibit you? [Money.] So you think I am fond of money, do you? [Yes.] And I wonder if there is anything else I’m fond of? [Rum.] And what happens when I get a little too much of that article? [Drunk.]”
And so on with a multitude of other questions which would be tiresome to repeat, but which it is quite amusing to see the hog answer. The card in each case would be brought to the exhibitor, who in all cases where the correct card was selected, dropped a few kernels of corn as a reward. Occasionally a wrong one would be brought, in which case a sly kick, or hit on the nose, was administered. Sometimes the hog seemed in doubt and would pick up a card and replace it, taking another; once or twice he stopped midway between two cards, turning his nose first toward one and then toward the other, squealing dismally, a very picture of perplexity. He had sense enough to know what he would get in case of a mistake. His mistakes, however, were very few.
The whole performance really consists in the hog selecting the card under the direction of his master. If the latter be watched narrowly, it will be seen that he changes his position from time to time, as the hog passes from one card to another. If the hog stops before he reaches the proper card the trainer moves his foot in the direction in which the hog should go; if he passes it the foot is moved in the other direction. When no movement is made the hog knows he is before the right card and picks it up. When the hog becomes confused and frightened this movement of the foot is quite obvious to a close observer, for at such times the hog does not so readily take the cue. This signaling is the secret of the performance; but before the hog can understand these signals, or will pick up the cards, a regular system of training must be pursued.
The pig—for the education begins when the animal is young—is first taught to come to the trainer when called. This is readily done by rewarding him when he obeys and thrashing him when he fails to do so. He is then taught to pick up articles in pretty much the same manner as in teaching dogs, and which we have already fully described. During the lessons the pig is rewarded with corn for obeying, and he is also fed immediately after his lesson, being kept a trifle hungry at other times. At first an ear of corn may be used in teaching him to pick up articles. He will naturally pick this up when placed on the ground. Instead of letting him keep it, however, call him to you, and on taking it away recompense him with some kernels of corn. He will soon learn that it pays better to bring you the ear over and over again, and be rewarded each time, than keep it himself. Then a cob without corn may be substituted. By-and-by cobs may be arranged in a row some foot or two apart, and the pig required to bring some one of them you have in mind. This is the difficult part; the pig will be inclined to pick up whichever comes handiest. This must be prevented by gently hitting his snout, and ordering him to “go on.” Always start him at the left of the line; you will be able thus to guide him better than when he goes hap-hazard. Keep on his left side, moving your foot toward him to keep him moving in the direction of the desired article. Avoid coming between him and the article. When he comes to it make no movement. If he picks it up, call him to you, take it from his mouth, reward him with corn, apple, or some other dainty, and replace the article in the row. If, however, he passes by it, change your position to his right side, and move your foot to urge him back.
These movements of the foot, during tuition, are, of course, more vigorous than those used at public exhibitions. At first they merely threaten him and drive him in the required direction, but by-and-by he learns to observe them and to understand and profit by them. It is possible sometimes during the lessons to help the pig’s selection by pointing out the card or article, but this is not desirable, as it is of course unavailable in public, and the trainer must compel the animal to do his duty so soon as he is out of the “rudiments,” with no more help than can be used in public.
Pigs are very fond of having their backs scratched, and this will often attach them to their instructor, make them more docile, and consequently more easily instructed. They are not very apt pupils, and though they may be taught several tricks performed by dogs, it is very seldom their education extends beyond what we have described. We have known an exhibitor advertise a hog who would “go through the multiplication table,” but this proved to be a catch; a hoop being covered with paper on which the multiplication table was printed, the hog was made to jump through it. The humor of the “sell” saved the exhibitor from the indignation his deception might otherwise have aroused.
In Holland, quite a number of years ago, a hog ran a race against a fast trotting horse. The training adopted to prepare the hog for this novel contest was a good illustration of “educating through the stomach,” and the performance sufficiently curious, we think, to warrant insertion here. Somewhat condensed the story is substantially this:
A member of a sporting club at the Hague was bragging of the speed of a certain horse possessed by him. Another member asserted that he had a hog which he should not fear to match against him, and this proposal, though at first laughed at as a jest, ended in a match of six English miles, for one thousand guilders; fourteen days being allowed the owner of Nero, the hog, for training; and the horse to carry two persons. The course selected was the avenue leading from the Hague to the sea shore at Scheveningen; the hour, eleven o’clock.