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Updated: May 10, 2025
Peter succeeded in due course to the estate of Ballawhaine, but he was not a lawyer, and the line of the Deemsters Christian was broken. Meantime Thomas Wilson Christian had been married to Mona Crellin without delay. As soon as she became his wife he realised the price he had paid for her. Happiness could not come of such a beginning.
Crellin, the hog-manager, showed them Lady Isleton, who, with her prodigious, fat, recent progeny of eleven, won various naïve encomiums, while Mr. Crellin warmly proclaimed at least four times, "And not a runt, not a runt, in the bunch."
"God bless her!" cried Pete, with a shout that was heard across the street. "We'll pick her up at Crellin's, it's like," said Cæsar. "What? Crellin's round the corner Crellin the draper's I Woa! Let me down! The mare's tired, father;" and Pete was over the wheel at a bound.
Proceeding at a hand gallop along a road that was one of the spokes radiating from the Big House hub, Forrest overtook Crellin, his hog manager, and, in a five-minute conference, outlined the next few months of destiny of Burgess Premier, and learned that the brood sow, Lady Isleton, the matron of all matrons of the O. I. C.'s and blue- ribboner in all shows from Seattle to San Diego, was safely farrowed of eleven.
Crellin, a young man of thirty-five, with the maturity of a long-time father stamped upon him along with the marks of college and the youthfulness of a man used to the open air and straight-living, showed his appreciation of his employer's interest as he half-flushed under his tan and nodded. "Think it over," Forrest advised.
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