"Was his 'ittle curly tail all bwack, muzzer?"
"Yes; his little curly tail and all—pure black. He was the smallest pig of all; but his mother loved him dearly."
"Did he cwi, muzzer?"
"No; never; none of them ever cried. They were——"
"Jane cwied, muzzer."
"They were very good, obedient little pigs. They never interrupted their dear mother when she told them stories. They were——"
"I like my Jane," murmured the infant, applying his fists to his eyes, "an'—an' I like my supper. Tell Jane to div me my supper, muzzer!"
"Why, you poor little darling! Of course you must be hungry! Mother will give you your supper right away. Come, dear!"
Mrs. Belknap arose with a sigh of relief, and made her way to the kitchen. "Mary," she began, "I will give Buster his supper now; you may—" She stopped short in horrified dismay. Miss MacGrotty was lolling against the table, a saucepan grasped negligently in one hand, while its contents drizzled slowly down the broad expanse of her aproned front into a puddle on the floor.
"Why, Mary!" cried her mistress, "you are spilling that gravy all over yourself; do be careful!"