"You go first, ma, 'cause you got the light," begged Chinky. Mrs. Mulvaney boxed his ears, and as the sound was repeated in the attic, it didn't make it easier for Chinky to open the door. His mother pushed him in.
"Now what do you see?" she said.
"Nothing," chattered the boy, his very freckles growing pale beneath the lamp light.
It happened that the pigs were hiding behind a box back of the chimney. One gave a little thin squeal just as the light was blown out. Another said "Oof—oof!" Mike and Chinky bolted down the stairs. They thought the pig said, "Boo—boo!" only of course they didn't know they fled from the voice of a pig.
When Stubbins reached home the house was still. The family were shivering in the sitting-room, talking in whispers.
"Let's keep still and see what Stubbins says," suggested Sally. "Why, he's going upstairs!"
Mrs. Mulvaney and the children ran into the dining-room, but scarcely had they crossed the threshold before the pigs began to squeal, and Stubbins was heard shouting:
"Hold sthill, pig, hold sthill! Thay! Wait! Ith tho dark you make me bump my head."
"I'll bump your head," called Mrs. Mulvaney. "What are you doing with pigs in this nice, new house, you bad boy?"
