“See,” said Mabel, “it’s sucking my finger—I think it likes me.”
“It’s hungry,” said Sallie. “It seems too bad to leave it here to starve.”
“But we don’t want any pig,” objected Henrietta. “I don’t think I like pigs.”
“I’m sure I don’t,” said Maude. “Come on, girls, let’s climb up the ladder to that windmill over there and walk all around it on that ledge—I think it’s wide enough. We don’t want to be bothered with any pigs.”
But the lonesome little pig had no intention of being left behind. It trotted along at the girls’ heels and squealed piteously in its efforts to keep up.
“Poor little thing,” said Bettie, “it’s just starving.”
“And tired,” said Mabel. “Every minute or two it loses its footing and rolls right over. It thinks it belongs to us.”
“You’re afraid to pick it up and carry it,” teased Marjory.
“I’m not,” said Mabel. “I’m going to do it. The rest of you can climb all the windmills you want to, but I’m going to be kind to this pig.”
Whereupon kind Mabel picked up the pig and carried it. At first, however, the little animal squirmed and struggled so much that Mabel had all she could do to keep from dropping him.