Squinty, the comical pig, tried to look out through the slats of the

box, in which he was being taken away, to see in which direction he was

going. He also wanted to watch the different sights along the road. But

the sides of the farm wagon were so high that the little pig could see

nothing. He stretched his fat neck as far as it would go, but that did

no good either. Squinty wished he were as big as his papa or his mamma.

"Then I could see what is going on," he thought.

But just wishing never made anyone larger or taller, not even a pig, and

Squinty stayed the same size.

He could hear the farmer and the children talking. Now and then the boy

who had bought Squinty, and who was taking him home, would look around

at his pet in the slatted box.

"Is he all right?" one of the girls would ask.

"He seems to be," the boy would say. "I am glad I got him."

"Well, he acts real cute," said another girl, who was called Sallie,

"but I never heard of having a pig for a pet before."

"You just wait until I teach him some tricks," said the boy, whose name

was Bob. "Then you'll think he's fine!"

"Ha! So I am to learn tricks," thought Squinty in his box. "I wonder

what tricks are, anyhow? Does it mean I am to have good things to eat? I

hope so."

You see Squinty, like most little pigs, thought more of something to eat

than of anything else. But we must not blame him for that, since he

could not help it.

Pretty soon the wagon rattled over some stones, and then came to a stop.

"Here we are!" called the children's father. "Bring along your little

pig, Bob. Here comes the train."

"Ha! It seems I am to go on a train," thought Squinty. "I wonder what a

train is?"

Squinty had many things to learn, didn't he?

The little pig in the box felt himself being lifted out of the wagon.

Then he could look about him. He saw a large building, in front of which

were long, slender strips of shining steel. These were the railroad

tracks, but Squinty did not know that. Then all at once, Squinty heard a

loud noise, which went like this:

"Whee! Whee! Whee-whee!"

"Oh my! what a loud squeal that pig has!" exclaimed Squinty. "He can

squeal much louder than I can, I think. Let me try."

So Squinty went:

"Squee! Squee! Squee!"

And then the big noise sounded again, louder than before:

"Whee! Whee! Toot! Toot!"

"Oh my!" said Squinty to himself, snuggling down in the straw of his

box. "I never can squeal as loud as that. Never!"

He looked out and saw a big black thing rushing toward him, with smoke

coming out of the top, and then the big black thing cried out again:

"Whee! Whee! Toot! Toot!"

"Oh, what a terrible, big black pig!" thought Squinty. And he was a bit

frightened. But it was not a big black pig at all. It was only the

engine drawing the train of cars up to the station to take the

passengers away. And it was going to take Squinty, also.

Squinty thought the engine whistle was a pig's squeal, but it wasn't, of


Pretty soon the train stopped. The passengers made a rush to get in the

cars. Bob, the boy, caught up the handle of Squinty's box, and, after

some bumping and tilting sideways, the little pig found himself set down

in a rather dark place, for the boy had put the box on the floor of the

car by his seat, near his feet.

And there Squinty rode, seeing nothing, but hearing many strange noises,

until, after many stops, he was lifted up again.

"Here we are!" the little pig heard the children's papa say. "Have you

everything? Don't forget your pig, Bob."

"I won't," answered the boy, with a jolly laugh.

"Well, I wonder what will happen next?" thought Squinty, as he felt

himself being carried along again. He could see nothing but a crowd of

persons all about the boy who carried the box.

"I don't know whether I am going to like this or not--this coming to

live in town," thought the little pig. "Still, I cannot help myself, I

suppose. But I do wish I had something to eat."

I guess the boy must have known Squinty was hungry, for, when he next

set down the box, this time in a carriage, the boy gave the little pig a

whole apple to eat. And how good it did taste to Squinty!

"Are you going to make a pen for him?" asked one of the boy's sisters,

as the carriage drove off.

"Yes, as soon as we get to the house," said the boy.

By this time Squinty was thirsty. There was no water in his cage, but, a

little later, when he saw through the slats, that he was being carried

toward a large, white house, he was given a tin of water to drink.

"I'll just leave him in that box until I can fix a larger one for him,"

the boy said, and then, for a while, Squinty was left all to himself.

But he was still in the box, though the box was set in a shady place on

the back porch.

All this while Mr. Pig and Mrs. Pig, as well as the brother and sister

pigs, in the pen at home, were wondering what had happened to Squinty.

"Where do you think he is now, Mamma?" Wuff-Wuff would ask.

"Oh, I don't know," Mrs. Pig answered.

"And will he ever come back to us?" asked Twisty Tail.

"Perhaps, some day. I hope so," said Mrs. Pig, sort of sighing.

"Oh, yes, I think he will," said Mr. Pig. "When he gets quite large the

boy will get tired of having him for a pet, and perhaps bring him back."

"Were you ever carried off that way, Papa?" asked Grunter, as he rubbed

his back, where a mosquito had bitten him, against the side of the pen.

"Oh, yes, once," answered Mr. Pig. "I was taken away from my pen, when I

was pretty large, and given to a little girl for a pet. But she did not

keep me long. I guess she would rather have had her dolls, so I was soon

brought back to my pen. And I was glad of it."

"Well, I hope they will soon bring Squinty back," Wuff-Wuff said. "It is

lonesome without him."

But, after a while, the other pigs found so many things to do, and they

were kept so busy, eating sour milk, and getting fat, that they nearly

forgot about Squinty.

But, all this time, something was happening to the comical little pig.

Toward evening of the first day that Squinty had been put in the new

little cage, the boy, who had not been near him in some time, came back

to look at his pet.

"Now I have a larger place for you," the boy said, speaking just as

though Squinty could understand him. And, in fact, Squinty did know much

of what was said to him, though he could not talk back in boy language,

being able to speak only his own pig talk.

"And I guess you are hungry, too, and want something to eat," the boy

went on. "I will feed you!"

"Squee! Squee! Squee!" squealed Squinty. If there was one word in

man-talk that he understood very well, it was "feed." He had often heard

the farmer say:

"Well, now I must feed the pigs."

And right after that, some nice sour milk would come splashing down into

the trough of the pen. So when Squinty heard the word "feed" again, he

guessed what was going to happen.

And he guessed right, too.

The boy picked Squinty up, box and all, and carried him to the back


"Now I'll give you more room to run about, and then I'll have a nice

supper for you," the boy said, talking to his little pig just as you

would to your dog, or kittie.

With a hammer the boy knocked off some of the slats of the small box in

which Squinty had made his journey. Then the boy lifted out the comical

little pig, and Squinty found himself inside a large box, very much like

the pen at home. It had clean straw in it, and a little trough, just

like the one at his "home," where he could eat. But there was nothing in

the trough to eat, as yet, and the box seemed quite lonesome, for

Squinty was all alone.

"Here you are now! Some nice sour milk, and boiled potatoes!" cried the

boy, and then Squinty smelled the most delicious smell--to him at least.

Down into the trough came the sour milk and potatoes.

"Squee! Squee!" yelled Squinty in delight. And how fast he ate! That was

because he was hungry, you see, but pigs nearly always eat fast, as

though they were continually in a hurry.

"Oh, isn't it cute!" exclaimed a voice over Squinty's head. He looked

up, half shutting his one funny eye, and cocking one ear up, and letting

the other droop down. But he did not stop eating.

"Oh, isn't he funny!" cried another voice. And Squinty saw the boy and

his sisters looking at him.

"Yes, he surely is a nice pig," the boy said, "In a few days, when he

gets over being strange, I'm going to teach him some tricks."

"Ha! There's that word tricks again!" thought Squinty. "I wonder what

tricks are? But I shall very soon find out."

For a few days Squinty was rather lonesome in his new pen, all by

himself. He missed his papa and mamma and brothers and sisters. But the

boy came to see Squinty every day, bringing him nice things to eat, and,

after a bit, Squinty came to look for his new friend.

"I guess you are getting to know me, aren't you, old fellow?" the boy

said one day, after feeding Squinty, and he scratched the little pig on

the back with a stick.

"Uff! Uff!" grunted Squinty. That, I suppose, was his way of saying:

"Of course I know you, and I like you, boy."

One day, about a week after he had come to his new home, Squinty heard

the boy say:

"Now I think you are tame enough to be let out. I don't believe you will

run away, will you? But, anyhow, I'll tie a string to your leg, and then

you can't."

Squinty wished he could speak boy language, and tell his friend that he

would not run away as long as he was kindly treated, but of course

Squinty could not do this. Instead, he could only grunt and squeal.

The boy tied a string to Squinty's leg, and let him out of the pen. The

comical little pig was glad to have more room in which to move about. He

walked first to one side, and then the other, rooting in the dirt with

his funny, rubbery nose. The boy laughed to see him.

"I guess you are looking for something to eat," the boy said. "Well,

let's see if you can find these acorns."

The boy hid them under a pile of dirt, and watched. Squinty smelled

about, and sniffed. He could easily tell where the acorns had been

hidden, and, a moment later, he had rooted them up and was eating them.

"Oh, you funny little pig!" cried the boy. "You are real smart! You know

how to find acorns. That is one trick."

"Ha! If that is a trick, it is a very easy one--just rooting up acorns,"

thought Squinty to himself.

Squinty walked around, as far as the rope tied to his leg would let him.

The other end of the rope was held by the boy. Once the rope got tangled

around Squinty's foot, and he jumped over it to get free. The boy saw

him and cried:

"Oh, I wonder if I could teach you to jump the rope? That would be a

fine trick. Let me see."

The boy thought a moment, and then lifted Squinty up, and set him down

on one side of the rope, which he raised a little way from the ground,

just as girls do when they are playing a skipping game.

On the other side of the rope the boy put an apple.

"Now, Squinty," said Bob, "if you want that apple you must jump the rope

to get it. Come on."

At first Squinty did not understand what was wanted of him. He saw

nothing but the apple, and thought how much he wanted it. He started for

it, but, before he could get it the boy pulled up the rope in front of

him. The rope stopped Squinty.

"Jump over the rope if you want the apple," said the boy. Of course

Squinty could not exactly understand this talk. He tried once more to

get the apple, but, every time he did, he found the rope in front of

him, in the way.

"Well!" exclaimed Squinty to himself, "I am going to get that apple,

rope or no rope. I guess I'll have to get over the rope somehow."

So the next time he started for the juicy apple, and the rope was pulled

up in front of him, Squinty gave a little spring, and over the rope he

went, jumping with all four legs, coming down on the other side, like a

circus man jumping over the elephant's back.

"Oh, fine! Good!" cried the boy, clapping his hands. "Squinty has

learned to do another trick!"

"Uff! Uff!" grunted Squinty, as he chewed the apple. "So that's another

trick, is it?"

SQUINTY IS LOST SQUINTY ON A JOURNEY facebooktwittergoogle_plusredditpinterestlinkedinmail