DICKORY DARE PIG
YOU remember, I hope, where I left off in the last story—just as the rooster came up the steps of the little house at the end of the narrow street where Puss, Junior, was making a call on the little Yellow Hen. Well, he was very much surprised to see our small traveler, but nevertheless he was most polite. He stretched forth his right wing to shake hands when, all of a sudden,
Dickory, dickory, dare,
The pig flew up the stair,
A very funny thing to do,
And made the rooster doodle-doo.
"Gracious me! Oh me, Oh my!" screamed the little Yellow Hen. "That awful pig will just spoil my stair carpet." This made the rooster all the more angry at the Dickory Dare Pig, as he called him, and he strutted across the piazza. "I'll spur him when he comes down," he said, and he waited at the front door. But Mr. Pig took no chances. He staid upstairs until the little Yellow Hen began to cry. "I want to go to bed." Puss, by this time, was also very sleepy, and the gaily feathered rooster—well, I think he was half asleep, as he stood by the front door, with his head tucked under his wing.
"He'll forget to crow in the early morn;
And little Boy Blue with his silver horn
Is always asleep, so what shall I do
If my Rooster sleeps the whole night through?"
"It's time for me to do something," exclaimed Puss, Junior, whipping out his sword and running upstairs two at a time. But, would you believe it if I told you, he couldn't find the Dickory Dare Pig anywhere? Puss looked in every room and in every closet. He even lifted the cover of the big clothes hamper that stood in the bathroom, but Mr. Pig was not to be found.
Well, after a while, Puss looked out of the window. There on the roof of the porch was the Dickory Dare Pig. "What are you doing?" asked Puss, and he waved his sword threateningly. But the Pig only grunted.
"You people downstairs are making an awful fuss," and he closed his eyes again, he was so sleepy. And, anyway, he had a very nice soft place, for he had spread a big woolen comforter on the roof for a bed.
"Well, you get out of here," said Puss. "You have no right to take the Yellow Hen's nice comforter, nor have you any right to sleep on the roof, and if you don't go I'll stick my sword in you." Well, after that, the Pig ran downstairs and out of the front door, and maybe he's running yet, if a butcher hasn't caught him and made him into little sausages.