More Stories of the Three Pigs

You have all heard of the three little pigs. And you know all about how Old Mother Pig sent them forth to seek their fortunes, don't you? Of course you do!

You remember, too, how the Wandering Wolf frightened the one in the straw house and "ate up that poor little pig." And you will never forget how he afterwards scared the one in the wooden house and "ate up that poor little pig." And then, were you ever so glad, in all your life, as when he tried and tried and simply could not get the third little pig--that cunning, curly-tailed, squeaky-voiced little pig who lived in the little brick house!

Well, of course, this last little pig, whose name was Grunty, lived safely in her neat little red brick house for many years after the day when she ate up the Wandering Wolf for her dinner.

Some years after that day of feasting, Grunty Pig had two wee piggies of her own. The older one was white all over, except for his two black ears, so Mother Grunty at once named him Blacky-ears. The younger one looked just as his mother had looked when she was little--white all over, with a curly tail and a squeaky voice so cheery that everyone smiled when he spoke. He was called Little-wee Pig.

One day in June Mother Grunty thought she must go on a journey, and she worried about leaving Blacky-ears and Little-wee Pig alone, for she had not forgotten that the Wandering Wolves were not all dead and that one of them might get after her babies.

"Come here, piglets," she called from her kitchen window.

"All right, Mother, I'm coming," answered Little-wee Pig as he jumped from his swing and ran to the house.

But not so Blacky-ears! And I'll tell you why. Bad Boy Mischief, you remember, is always after everyone; little children, little bears, and little pigs. Blacky-ears, I am sorry to say, had been very friendly with him. So, as soon as Bad Boy Mischief heard Mother Grunty call, he hopped right onto Blacky's shoulder and whispered in his ear.

And what do you suppose? Blacky-ears listened and answered his mother just as Bad Boy Mischief had told him to! "Aw, wait a minute, can't you?" he grumbled!

When Mother Grunty called the second time, Blacky-ears managed to jerk himself into the house and stand sulkily beside her chair. Then she told the two piggies of her plan.

"Now," said Mother Grunty, "I find that I must go to Styford at once. I fear to leave you here alone, for I too well remember what happened to my two brothers. So, if you'll promise to be very, very good, you may go with me."

"Oh goody, goody!" sang Little-wee Pig, dancing around his mother's chair.

"Hurrah for some fun!" cried Blacky-ears.

"You will promise to be good, my dears?" said Mother Grunty anxiously.

"Oh yes, Mother, we'll be good," answered Little-wee Pig.

"You bet!" cried Blacky-ears.

So everything was hustle and bustle in the little brick house, for Mother Grunty was very neat. And everything must be made tidy and not one speck of dust must be left behind. But finally, on the third day, came the time to go.

Blacky-ears, dressed in his new blue suit with its shiny brass buttons, and wearing his little round cap set straight between his ears, looked as neat as a new pin. And Little-wee Pig, all in white except for his bright red sailor tie, was attractive too. But you should have seen the charming Mother Grunty in her trim black suit and sailor hat to match! Then you would have said, "Isn't she splendid!"

On the train everyone was happy, for even in that short ride there were many interesting sights. And Mother Grunty was ever so patient about explaining.

"Let's play 'I Spy,'" cried Blacky-ears.

"I mean, tell what we can spy out of the window. Whoever sees a thing first can say 'I spy.' Watch sharply! Oh, I spy a tall pine tree on a hill."

"I spy a tiny brook," called Little-wee Pig.

"Styford! Styford!" called the brakeman. And what a hustle to slip into wraps and gather up bundles!

Styford was a busy city, and Mother Grunty was very nervous. Such a hurrying and so much noise! It seemed to the three country pigs that they could never cross the main street!

"Take my hands, my dears," Mother Grunty urged anxiously. At the first crossing they did so. But soon Blacky-ears became used to the noise and hurry. Before he knew it, Bad Boy Mischief was once more riding on his shoulder.

"You're too old to take anyone's hand. You're smart enough to take care of yourself," he whispered.

And Blacky-ears listened. He jerked his hand out of his mother's and ran across the street. A large red hose wagon clanged out of the side street and just missed knocking him flat!

"Oh-h!" shrieked Mother Grunty as she hurried to catch him. "Why will you do such things? You promised me you would be so good. I fear you'll come to some bad end."

But that was only the beginning of the trouble. In the "Piggie and Wiggie" shop Blacky-ears bumped rudely against a case of glass dishes, jarring two of them to the floor, where they broke to slivers.

While his poor mother was helping the clerk clean up the scattered glass, Blacky-ears pried open her purse and sent the change jingling to the floor. Poor Mother Grunty! She was almost ready to give up!

At the next crossing Bad Boy Mischief merely tugged at Blacky-ears' sleeve, and Blacky turned slyly down the side street and was hidden in the crowd.

Mother Grunty realized with a start that she and Little-wee Pig were alone. "Blacky-ears!" she called piteously. "Oh-h-h, what shall I do!" But if Blacky-ears heard, he pretended not to, and at last poor, sorrowful Mother Grunty took Little-wee Pig by the hand and started for the station.

Blacky-ears did not care--not he! He was so foolish that he was glad! "Guess I'm smart enough to go it alone," he told himself. "I hate folks always fussing over me!"

But when darkness settled down over the city, he felt uneasy. He began to tire of gazing at shop windows.

"Guess I'll get a drink," he thought. But where?

On and on he wandered. Although he did not notice it, the stores had been left behind and the houses were growing fewer, and farther and farther apart. Suddenly he stopped and looked about him. "Why, I'm out in the country," he exclaimed. "Now I can find a well of good water. It's rather smart of me to come out where I can find a drink!"

But finding a well seemed not so easy, after all. It was dreadfully dark, now that the street lights were far behind. Somehow, the night was full of noises he had never before heard. "Maybe the moon will come up by and by," he told himself. "It wouldn't be so bad if I had a drink and--"

A long drawn-out howl made him tremble with fright! He knew that sound, though never before had he heard it. Had not Mother Grunty told him often just what noise the Wandering Wolf made when he came to eat up her two fat brothers!

Blacky-ears never looked to left or to right. He did not dare. He simply broke into a run! He had no time to remember how tired and thirsty and hungry he was. He remembered only one thing--that a dreadful wolf had howled!

Down went his poor little face kersplash! in the mud. He could not breathe through his poor bruised, muddy nose. But up he jumped and on he ran. Great muddy tears rolled off his face onto the ground, but never once did he dare to think of stopping. Something hurt inside. Every few steps he stumbled. Then he fell and could not move or cry out.