When it came to communicating with pigs, Lord Emsworth had resources denied to other men. It so happened that there had come to Blandings Castle a year or so ago a young fellow anxious to marry one of his nieces, a young fellow who on leaving England under something of a cloud had found employment on a farm in Nebraska. He had forgotten his name, but he had never forgotten his teachings. In however deep a reverie a pig might be plunged, this young fellow had said, passing on the lore he had learned on the Nebraska farm, it could always be jerked out of it by what he described as the Master Call, and this he had taught to Lord Emsworth. It consisted of the word "Pig-hoo-ey," the "Hoo" to start in a low minor of two quarter notes in four-four time, building gradually from this to a higher note until at last the voice soared in full crescendo, reaching F-sharp on the natural scale and dwelling for two retarded half-notes, then breaking into a shower of accidental grace-notes.
(from Galahad at Blandings, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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