One little pig that ran away—
The one with his tail to the left, they say—
Knew well it was not right
To go so far. He could not be found
Though his master searched the woods around;
And so he was out all night.
But when that pig came back—Oh! then
He wished that he had not left the pen.
How sorry he did feel!
For the master tied the naughty pig's leg,
With a good stout rope, to a good stout peg!
Oh! you should have heard him squeal.