Then took himself off, and Pig ran away too.
And come to his mother to know what to do,
Who took no account of his crying and clatter.
He said, “Oh my ear!” she said “What does it matter?”
“’Tis only the bite that I bade you beware of,
Besides, your own ear you can surely take care of!
I wonder to hear you consulting another,
Especially me, your poor ignorant mother!”
All this time little Piggy was crying and screaming,
And over his cheeks the salt tears were streaming,
And sadly he grieved as he cast his eyes round,
And saw all his brothers with ears safe and sound.
You’ll think after this he was prudent and wise,
And loved his good mother and took her advice,
You’ll think he began his bad ways to forsake,
But this, I assure you, is all a mistake.
For still he was naughty, as naughty could be:
And as often was punished—then, sorry was he;
But as soon as he fairly was rid of the pain,
He forgot all about it, and did wrong again.
It happened one day, as the other pigs tell,
In the course of their walk they drew near to a well;
So wide and so deep, with so smooth a wall round,
If a pig tumbled in, he was sure to be drowned.
So the mother stopped two, who were running a race,
Saying, “Children, take care, ’tis a dangerous place!
Walk soberly on till you’re safe past the water.”
“Why, ’tis but a well, and pray, what does it matter?”