"That Moses Mouse was all wrong," he murmured. "He complained of the food here. When I see him I'll have to tell him that he was mistaken. Why, I never ate anything that tasted better than these rings!"
After making sure that there was nothing else for him to devour in the kitchen Grunty Pig pushed through a door that stood ajar. He found himself in a long, dimly lighted hall. There were doors on both sides of it. Grunty nosed around each one in turn. Not till he came to the last of all, at the further end of the hall, did he find one that wasn't shut tight. This door yielded to a little gentle pushing. And Grunty then found himself—though he did not know it—in the parlor of the farmhouse.
As he stood still and gazed about him, who should come stealing into the room but Moses Mouse.
"Ah!" said Moses in a whisper. "So you've arrived at last?"
"Yes!" said Grunty Pig. "Isn't this a fine pen? Now that I've come to the farmhouse to live I believe I'll make this pen my headquarters."
"That's a good idea," Moses Mouse told him. "Farmer Green's family don't use it often. They seldom come here unless they have company."
While he listened, Grunty Pig sidled up to a table in the center of the room and began, in an absent-minded fashion, to rub his back against it. To his surprise, the table tipped over and a lamp that had stood upon it crashed into a hundred pieces on the floor. Then a door slammed somewhere. And steps sounded in the hall.
Moses Mouse tried not to look startled.
"I must be going now," he said abruptly. "I'll see you later." Then he dashed into the fireplace and ran up the chimney.
"The accident was really your fault," Grunty called to him. "If you hadn't talked so much I'd have noticed what I was doing."