THE GOOD LITTLE PIGGIE AND HIS FRIENDS
BY L. WALDO LOCKLING
Once there was a little piggie, a very good little piggie, who obeyed his mother so well that often she let him out of the pen to play with his friends on the farm. One afternoon this little piggie was playing with them, when suddenly he heard his mother calling “Piggie, wiggie, wiggie, wiggie, wiggie!”
“Piggie, dear,” she said, as he ran to her, “take this and trot as fast as you can to market and get me a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night.”
“‘where are you off to, piggie?’ said bossie calf.”
So Piggie took the pail between his teeth, and off he went to do what his mother told him. Now, you must remember that this little piggie was such a dear, good little piggie, that he had a great many friends among the other animals. So he had not gone far when who should spy him but his friend Bossie Calf. “Hello, there!” said the calf. “Where are you off to, Piggie?”
“I’m going to market to bring my mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie.
“Are you? I believe I’ll go, too. I am so fond of milk.” And the calf leaped over his master’s fence, and away he went scampering after Piggie.
By and by, who should come along but Piggie’s friend Billie Goat. “Mercy on us!” baa-ed Billie. “Where are you going in such a hurry, Bossie?”
“Going with Piggie,” said the calf.
“Where are you going, Piggie?”
“Going to market to bring my mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie, in a great hurry.
“Are you? I believe I’ll go, too. I am so fond of milk.” So Billie Goat ran out of the barn-yard and hurried after the calf.
Just as they were passing the house, who should spy them but Rover the dog.
“Where are you going, Billie,” barked Rover, running out to the gate as he saw them rushing along. “Going with Bossie,” said the goat.
“Where are you going, Bossie?” “Going with Piggie.”
“Where are you going, Piggie?”
“I am going to market to bring Mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie, in a great hurry.
“Are you? I believe I’ll go, too. I am so fond of milk.” So Rover hurried along up the road after the goat.
Just as they turned into the road, who should come jumping along but Tabby the cat.
“Well, well!” he meowed. “When did the circus come to town, Rover?”
“This is not a circus parade,” said the dog, the goat, the calf, and Piggie all at once, as they ran on.
“Then, where are you going, Rover?” again meowed Tabby.
“Going with Billie,” barked Rover.
“‘my, that’s good!’”
“Where are you going, Billie?” “Going with Bossie.”
“Where are you going, Bossie?” “Going with Piggie.”
“Where are you going, Piggie?”
“I am going to market to get my mother a pail of milk for Father’s supper to-night,” squealed Piggie in a great hurry.
“Are you? I believe I’ll go along. I am so fond of milk.” So Tabby raced along after Rover.
When they got to the market, Piggie told his friends to wait outside while he hurried in and got the milk for his father’s supper. It did not take him long, and he soon came trotting out because he was to hurry back home.
“Give me a sup for politeness’ sake,” meowed Tabby the cat, as she stuck her head in the pail. “My, that’s good!”
“Pass it to me, Tabby,” barked Rover the dog, “for politeness’ sake. My, that’s good!”
“Give me a sup for politeness’ sake,” said Billie Goat. “My, that’s good.”
“Do not forget me, Billie, for politeness’ sake,” said Bossie the calf. “My, that’s good!”
“away he trotted with an empty pail.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear!” squealed Piggie, when he saw what had happened. “What shall I do?” And away he trotted all by himself with an empty pail, to tell his mother that he did really and truly get the milk, but that his friends had “supped” it all up!
But just then the farmer came with a great, big pail of milk and gave it all to them, so that the good little piggie and his father and mother had a fine supper, and much more milk than Piggie could have brought.
BABY’S PARADISE
By Lucy Fitch Perkins
Over the hills and far away,
There’s a beautiful, wonderful place,
Where happy babies in gardens play,
With mothers dressed all in lace,—
Dressed all in lace and in silken gown,
With flowers in their hair,—
Where trees with blossoms are laden down,
And perfumes fill the air.
“who speaks first?”
from an engraving of the painting by arthur j. elsley.
Moo, moo!
What can I do
For my little girl of three?
I will eat the sweet grass,
I will give her a glass
Of my milk for her tea;
Moo, moo! that ’s what I’ll do
For my dear little maiden of three.
Mew, mew!
What can I do
For my little girl of three?
I will catch all the mice,
And they shall not come twice
To the cake, you’ll see;
Mew, mew! that’s what I’ll do
For my sweet little maiden of three.
Bow-wow!
I will go now
With my little girl of three;
I will make a great noise;
I will frighten the boys,
For they all fear me;
Bow-wow! that is just how
I’ll guard my sweet maiden of three.
Neigh, neigh!
Out of the way
For my little girl of three!
I will give her a ride,
We will canter and glide
O’er the meadowy lea;
Neigh, neigh! that’s just the way
I’ll help my sweet maiden of three.