"Oh, I understand," replied Puss, Jr. "Is that your house?"
"Yes, and there's mother."
Puss, Jr., saw a very nice-looking lady pig standing in the doorway of a queer little cabin. She had on a blue gingham apron over a short skirt of gray, and a very tight-fitting shirt-waist, which was stretched almost to the bursting-point as she raised her right forefoot to shade her eyes.
"Well, here you are at last!" she exclaimed to Piggie. "But look at your trousers; you've torn a big hole in them!"
He looked ruefully at the rent in his little blue jeans. "I got stuck in the fence," he whimpered.
"He'd be there yet if I hadn't pulled him out," volunteered Puss, Jr., hoping to divert her attention from his little friend.
Mrs. Porker, for that was her name, turned and looked at him, as much as to say, "Where did you come from?" but she didn't; she only very politely remarked: "Thank you for helping Piggie. I'm sorry to say he does not always mind mother. But come, you both are hungry, I know." And she led the way into the cabin.
At a round table in the room two little pigs were already eating their dinner. "What is your name?" asked Mrs. Porker in a kindly tone, pushing a chair up next to hers for Puss.
"Puss in Boots, Junior, madam," he replied, with a polite bow.
"This is Wiggie and this is Tiggie," said their mother, and the two small pigs got up and shook hands with him.