English
Therowsofcorn,inthefieldwhereSquintythecomicalpigwaslost,werelikethestreetsofacity.
Theywereverystraightandeven,justlikethestreetwhereyourhouseis,and,ifyouliked,youcouldpretendthateachhillofcornwasahouse.
PerhapsSquintypretendedthis,ifpigseverdopretend.
Atanyratethelittlelostpigwanderedupanddownintherowsofcorn,peeringthiswayandthat,toseewhichwaytogosohecouldgethomeagain.
Hebegantothinkthatrunningawaywasnotsomuchfunashehadatfirstthought.
“Ohdear!”Squintygrunted,inhisfunny,squealingvoice.“IwonderifI’lleverseemymammaandpapaagain?”
Squintyranthiswayandthatupanddowntherowsofcorn,andyoucaneasilyimaginewhathappened.Hesoonbecameverytired.
“IthinkIwilltakearest,”thoughtSquinty,talkingtohimself,becausetherewasnooneelsetowhomhecouldspeak.
Ithinkthelittlepigwouldhavebeenveryglad,justthen,tospeakeventoDon,thedog.ButDonwasnotthere.
Squinty,wonderingwhathappenedtolittlepigswhentheywerelost,andiftheyevergothomeagain,stretchedoutonthedirtbetweentworowsofcorn.
Itwasshadythere,butover-headthehotsunwasshining.
Squinty’sbreathcameveryfast,justaswhenadogrunsfaronawarmday.
Buttheearthwasrathercool,andSquintylikedit.
Hewouldmuchratherhavebeendownbythecoolbrook,butheknewhecouldnothaveaswiminituntilhefoundit.
And,justnow,heseemedagoodwayofffromit.
PoorSquinty!Itwasbadenoughtobetiredandwarm,buttobelostwasworse,andtobehungrywasworsethanall—especiallytoalittlepig.And,morethanthis,therewasnothingtoeat.
Squintyhadtriedtonibbleatsomeofthegreencornstalks,buthedidnotlikethetasteofthem.
Perhapshehadnotyetlearnedtolikethem,forIhaveseenolderpigseatcornstalks.
Andpigsareveryfondoftheyellowcornitself.
Theylovetognawitoffthecob,andchewit,justasyouchewpopcorn.
Butthecornwasnotyetripe,andSquintywastoolittletohaveeatenit,ifithadbeenripe.Lateronhewouldlearntodothis.
Justnowhecaredmoreaboutfindinghiswayhome,andalsofindingsomethingthathecouldeat.
Forsometimethelittlelostpigrestedonthecoolearth,intheshadeoftherowsofcorn.Thenhegotupwithagruntandasqueal,andbeganrootingintheground.
“PerhapsImayfindsomepotatoes,orsomepigweed,here,”thoughtSquinty.“Whoknows?”
Butallhecouldrootup,withhisqueer,rubberynose,wassomeroundstones.
Someofthesewerebrown,andlookedsomuchlikethelittlepotatoes,thatSquintytriedtochewone.
Butwhenhefeltthehardstoneonhislittlewhiteteethhecriedoutinpain.
“Ouch!”squealedSquinty.“Thathurt!Thosearefunnypotatoes!Ineverknewtheycouldbesohard.”
Lateronhelearnedthatwhathesupposedwerepotatoeswereonlystones.Youseeittakesalittlepigsometimetolearnallthethingsheneedstoknow.
Squintyletthestonerolloutofhismouth,andhelookedatitwithsuchanoddlookonhisface,peeringatitwithhissquintyeye,andwithoneearcockedupsortofsideways,that,ifyouhadseenhim,youcouldnothavehelpedlaughing.
Noonecould,iftheyhadseenSquintythen,buttherewasnooneinthefieldtowatchhim.
“Well,”thoughtSquinty,afterabit,“thiswillneverdo.Ican’tstayhere.Imusttrytofindmywaybackhome.Letmesee;whathadIbetterdo?
Iguessthefirstthingistofindthatfieldofrealpotatoes,andnotthemake-believeoneslikethis,”andhepushedthestoneawaywithhisnose.
“WhenIfindthepotatofield,”hewenton,stilltalkingtohimself,“IamsureIcanfindthebrookwhereIhadaswim.
AndwhenIfindthebrookIwillknowmywayhome,forthereisastraightpathfromtheretoourpen.”
SoSquintystartedoffoncemoretowalkthroughtherowsofcorn.
Ashewalkedalongonhislittleshortlegshegrunted,androotedintheearthwithhisnose.
Sometimeshestumbledoverabigstone,oraclodofdirt,andfelldown.
“Ohdear!”exclaimedpoorSquinty,whenhegotupafterfallingdownaboutsixtimes,“Ohdear!Thisisnofun.
IwishIhadstayedinthepenwithmybrothersandsisters.Iwonderwhattheyaredoingnow?”
JustthenSquintyfeltmorehungrythanever,andhethoughtitmustbefeeding-timebackinthepen.
“Oh,theymustbehavingsomenicesourmilkjustnow!”thoughtSquinty.“HowIwishIwerebackwiththem!”
Andthen,ashefanciedhecouldsmellthenicesourmilk,whichthefarmerorhiswifewaspouringintotheeatingtroughofthepen,Squintyjusthowledandsquealedwithhunger.Oh,whatanoisehemade!
Thenthisgavehimanidea.
“Ha!”heexclaimedtohimself,inawaypigshave,“whydidn’tIthinkofthatbefore?Imustsquealforhelp.Mymamma,orpapa,mayhearmeandcomeforme.”
ThenSquintyhappenedtothinkthatthehole,bywhichhehadgottenoutofthepen,wasnotlargeenoughforhisfatpapaormammatocrawlthrough.
“No,theycan’tgetouttocomeforme,”Squintythought.
“They’llhavetosendWuff-Wuff,orSquealer.
Andmaybethey’llgetlost,thesameasIdid.
Ohdear,IguessIwon’tsquealanymore.
It’sbadenoughformetobelost,withoutanyofmybrothersorsistersgettinglost,too.”
SoSquintystoppedsquealing,andwalkedonandonbetweentherowsofcorn,tryingtofindhiswayhometothepenallbyhimself.Squintywasreallyquiteabravepig,wasn’the?
Bythistime,asyoucanwellbelieve,Mr.andMrs.Pig,inthepen,hadawakenedfromtheirafternoonsleep.Andallthelittlepigshadawakenedtoo,fortheywerebeginningtofeelhungryagain.
“Isn’titabouttimethefarmercamewithsomesourmilkforus?”askedMr.PigofMrs.Pig.
“Ithinkitis,”shesaid,lookingupatthesun,forthesunistheonlyclockthatpigs,andotheranimals,have.
Whentheyseethesunintheeast,lowdown,theyknowitismorning.
Whenitshinesdirectlyovertheirheads,highinthesky,theyknowitisnoon.
Andwhenthesunsinksdowninthewestthepigsknowitisgettingtowardnight,andsuppertime.
Thesunwaslowdowninthewestnow,andMr.andMrs.Pigknewitmustbenearlytimefortheireveningmeal.
“Come,Wuff-Wuff.Come,Squealer.
Come,Squinty,andalltherestofyou!”calledMrs.Piginhergruntingvoice.“Come,getreadyforsupper.
IthinkIhearthefarmercomingwiththenicesourmilk!”
“Squee!Squee!Squee!”squealedallthelittlepigs,fortheywereveryhungryindeed.“Squee!Squee!Squee!”
Theyallmadearushtoseewhowouldgettotheeatingtroughfirst.
Someofthemevenputtheirfeetin,theyweresoanxious.Pigsarealwaysthatway.
Theyknownobetter,sowemustexcusethem.
Iftheyhadbeentaughtnottodothat,andthendidit,wewouldnotexcusethem.
“Herecomesthefarmerwiththesourmilk,”gruntedMr.Pig.“Oh,howgooditsmells!”
JustthenSquealercried:
“Why,where’sSquinty?”
Hisbrothersandsisterslookedaround.
Squinty,thecomicalpig,wasnottobeseen.
Butweknowwherehewas,evenifhismammaandpapaandbrothersandsistersdidnot.
Squintywasinthecornfield,tryingtofindhiswaybacktothepen.
“Why,wherecanSquintybe?”askedMrs.Pig.“Squinty!Squinty!”shecalled,gruntingandsquealingasshealwaysdid.“Cometothetrough!”shewenton.“Supperisready!”
ButSquintydidnotcome.Thefarmerpouredthesourmilkdowntheslide,whereitranintothetrough,andthelittlepigsbegantoeat.
ButMr.andMrs.PigbeganlookingforSquinty.
Theyturnedupthestraw,thinkinghemightbeasleepunderit.NoSquintywastobeseen.
ThenMr.Pigsawtheholeunderthesideboardsofthepen.
“Ha!”exclaimedMr.Pig,speakingtoMrs.Pig,“IthinkperhapsSquintywentoutthere.”
“Oh,sohedid!”saidMrs.Pig.“Whatshallwedo?”
Justthenthefarmerlookedoverinthepentoseehowfatthepigsweregetting.Hecountedthelittlepigs.Thenaqueerlookcameoverhisface.
“Hello!”heexclaimed.“Onlysixhere!Oneofthosepigshasgottenout.Imustlookintothis!”
Quicklyheglancedallaboutthepen.HesawtheholeoutofwhichSquintyhadrunaway.
“Ithoughtso!”exclaimedthefarmer.
“Oneofthepigshasrootedhiswayout.I’llhavetogoafterhim.Here,Don!”hecalledtohisdog.“Apigisloose!Wemustcatchhim!”
andhewhistledforthebigblackandwhitedog,whoranup,barkingandleapingabout.
AtfirstSquinty’sbrothersandsisterswerepayingsomuchattentiontodrinkingtheirsourmilk,thattheydidnotnoticewhatthefarmersaid,eventhoughtheymissedSquintyatthetrough.
Butwhentheyheardthedogbarking,theywonderedwhathadhappened.
Thentheysawtheirmammaandpapalookinganxious,andtalkingtogetherintheirgruntinglanguage,andWuff-Wuffasked:
“Hasanythinghappened?”
“Squintyislost!”saidMrs.Pig,rubbinghernoseupagainstthatofCurlyTail,thelittlestgirlpigofthemall.“Hemusthaverunoutofthepenwhenwewereasleep.”
“Ohdear!”criedallthelittlepigs,andtheyfeltverybadly.
“Nevermind,”saidMr.Pig,“IheardthefarmercallDon,thedog,togooffandfindSquinty.Ithinkhe’llbringhimback.”
“Oh,butmaybeDonwillbiteSquinty,”saidWuff-Wuff.
“Iguessnot,”answeredMr.Pig.“Donisagentledog.But,anyhow,wewantSquintyback,andtheonlywaywecangethimistohavethefarmerandhisdoggoafterhim.”
Theotherlittlepigsfinishedtheirsupperofsourmilk,withsomesmallpotatoeswhichthefarmer’swifethrewintothem.
Mr.andMrs.Pigatealittle,andthenthefarmer,afterstoppinguptheholewhereSquintygotout,sonomoreofthepigscouldrunaway,startedoffoverthefields,callingtohisdog.
“Bowwow!Bowwow!Bowwow!”barkedDon.Thatmeant,indoglanguage,“I’llfindSquintyandbringhimback.”
MeanwhileSquintyhadtriedhisbesttofindawayoutofthecornfield.
Butallhedidwastowalkuponerow,anddownanother.
Ifhehadbeentallenoughtostandupandlookoverthetopsofthecornstalks,hemighthaveseenwhichwaytogo,buthewasnotyetlargeenoughforthat.
PrettysoonSquintylookedup,andhesawthatthesunwasnotasbrightasithadbeen.Squintyknewwhatthismeant.Thesunwasgoingdown,anditwouldsoonbenight.
“Ohdear!IwonderifIshallhavetostayoutallaloneinthedarknight,”thoughtpoorSquinty.“Oh,I’llneverrunawayagain;never!”
Justthenheheard,offthroughtherowsofcorn,adogbarking.
“Bowwow!Bowwow!Bowwow!”wentthedog.
“Oh,whatshallIdo?WhereshallIhide?”thoughtSquinty.“Abaddogisafterme.”
Heranthiswayandthat,stumblingandfallingdown.Thebarkingofthedogsoundednearer.ThenSquintyheardaman’svoicesaying:
“Getafterhim,Don!Findhim!Findthatpig!”
“Bowwow!”wasthebarkinganswer.
“Ha!”thoughtSquinty.“Don!That’sthenameofthegooddogonourfarm!Iwonderifheiscomingafterme?”
Justthenthefarmer,whohadbeenfollowingthetracksleftinthesoftgroundbySquinty’sfeet,cametothecornfield.Thefarmersawwherethepighadbeenwalkingbetweenthegreenrowsofcorn.
“He’shere,somewhere,Don,”thefarmersaid.“Findhim!”
“Bowwow!”barkedDon.“Iwill!”
JustthenSquintystumbledoverabigstone,andhecouldnothelpgrunting.Healsogavealittlesqueal.
“Hereheis,Don!”calledthefarmer.“Takehimbytheear,andleadhimbacktothepen.Easy,now!”
Squintystoodstill.HedidnotwanttorunawayfromDon.Squintywasonlytooanxioustobefound,andtakenhome.
Thenextminute,throughtherowsofcorn,cameboundingDon,thedog.Hewasfollowedbythefarmer.
“Ah,thereheis!Thelittlerunaway!”criedthefarmermanashesawthepig.“Afterhim,Don!Butdon’thurthim!”
DonracedupbesideSquinty,andtookhimgentlybytheear.
“Bowwow!”barkedthedog,andthatmeant:“Comealongwithme,ifyouplease.Youhavebeenawayfromyourpenquitelongenough.”
SquintygavealoudsquealwhenDontookhimbytheear,butwhenthelittlepigfoundthatthedogdidnotmeantohurthim,hegrewquiet,andwentalongwillinglyenough.
“Imustmakethatpigpenagreatdealtighter,iftheyaregoingtogetoutandrunawayeveryday,”saidthefarmertohimself,ashewalkedalongbehindDonandSquinty.
Soontheywereatthepigpen,andOh!howgladSquintywastoseeitagain.
Thefarmerpickedthelittlepinkfellow,nowalltiredoutandcoveredwithdirt,upinhisarmsanddroppedhimdowninsidethepenwiththeotherpigs.
“There!”criedthefarmer.“Iguessyou’llstayinafterthis.”
“Bowwow!”barkedDon,jumpingabout,forhethoughtitwasfuntochaserunawaypigs.
AndsoSquintygotsafelybackhome.Butverysoonhewastohavesomemoreadventures.
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