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I lived in DC when I was young, and dad used to take us on weekend trips south into the Carolinas, so that we could see what ``real life'' was like. He'd just drive along the road for a while, then pull over at some farm and start talking to the people there.

Dad was chatting up a farmer's wife once, when I discovered this pig...

It was a nice pig, as pigs go. But it only had three legs. The right back leg was wooden! Well, I was as curious as could be, so I asked the farmer:

"Excuse me, sir. Why does your pig have a wooden leg?"

"Well, boy. That there is a courageous pig. The wife and me were asleep in the house one night, when that pig came running in and woke us up. The whole place was ablaze. We just got out alive."

"And the pig got its leg burned up in the fire?"

"Nope. Pig got out just fine. Matter of fact, he even went back in and saved the kids."

"Then why does the pig have a wooden leg?"

"I told you, boy. That is a BRAVE pig! A heroic pig! That pig saved our lives!"

"Yes, sir. But why does he have a wooden leg?"

"Boy, a pig like that, you don't eat all in one sitting!"

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