BIRDIE'S PIG STORY.
I told my story first, as mammas usually do; and it was all about a naughty little pig, who did not mind his mother when she bade him stay in the sty, but crawled through a hole in the wall.
Of course this pig got into the garden, and was whipped by the farmer, and bitten by the dog, and had all sorts of unpleasant things happen to him, till he was glad to get back again to the sty.
"Now I'll tell you a pig story," said Birdie, with a very wise look.
"Once there was a big mother-pig, and she had lots of children-pigs. One was spotted, and his name was Spotty; one's tail curled, and he was Curly; another was white, and he was Whitey; another was Browny; and another was Greeny."
"Oh, dear! the idea of a green pig!" said I.
But Birdie's eyes were fixed on the floor. He was too busy thinking of his story to notice my remark. He went on,—
"One day the pigs found a hole in the wall, and they crawled through,—all of 'em, the mother-pig and all; and, when they got out, they ran off, grunting with—with joy. And when the farmer saw them, he went after them on a horse; but he couldn't catch them, for they all ran down under a bridge where there had been a brook; but the water was all dried up.
"Then the farmer got a long pole, and poked under the bridge; but he couldn't reach them. He put some potatoes down there too, but the pigs weren't going to be coaxed out. And when they had staid as long as they wanted to, they came out themselves, and got home before the farmer did."
That was the story, and I forgot to ask how they got home before the farmer did unless he drove them; but I think they must have gone home across the field, because it is plain that Birdie's pigs did just as they liked all through. What I did ask was, "Well, what was the good of it all?" for I thought nobody ought to tell a story without meaning some good by it.
"Why, they got some fresh air!" cried Birdie, triumphantly; and considering that most farmers keep their pig-sties in a filthy condition, which can't be healthy for the pigs, nor for those who eat them, I thought Birdie's story had a very good moral, which is only another way of saying that it had a good lesson in it.
Birdie's Mamma.
