"I'll slip away for just a little while," he said to himself. "If I'm not gone long no one will miss me." So when his mother was taking a nap he stole through the hole in the fence. "I'll be back before she wakes up," he chuckled.
In the garden, up the lane, through the pasture he made his way. And he enjoyed his holiday to the full—until he remembered suddenly that he had been gone a long time—a much longer time than he had planned to spend away from the farmyard.
"Oh, dear!" he whined. "Mother must be awake now; and she'll punish me if I go back." The more he thought about returning, the less he liked the idea.
"I won't go home at all!" he cried at last. "I'll stay in the pasture the rest of my life. There's plenty to eat here; and plenty of fun, too."
It was afternoon when Grunty Pig made up his mind that he would never go home. When the Muley Cow warned him once more to beware of the bears he actually jeered at her.
"There are no bears in Pleasant Valley," he scoffed. "And you needn't trouble yourself to mention them again to me. I'm going to live in this pasture and there's no use of your trying to frighten me away."
The Muley Cow said nothing more to him. She merely looked at him and smiled wisely.
"He'll sing a different song," she thought, "when it begins to grow dark."