“Hush-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh!” says the ogre, “don’t talk so loud, or you’ll be rousing the folks and having them about our ears like a hive of bees.”
“No,” bawled the little pig, louder than before, “but tell me, have you had enough yet?”
“Yes, yes,” says the ogre, “I have had almost enough, only be still about it!”
“Very well!” bawled the little pig, as loud as he could, “if you have had enough, and if you have eaten all of the sausages and all of the puddings you can stuff, it is about time that you were going, for here comes the farmer and two of his men to see what all the stir is about.”
And, sure enough, the farmer and his men were coming as fast as they could lay foot to the ground.
But when the ogre heard them coming, he felt sure that it was time that he was getting away home again, and so he tried to get out of the same window that he had gotten in a little while before. But he had stuffed himself with so much of the good things that he had swelled like everything, and there he stuck in the storehouse window like a cork in a bottle, and could budge neither one way nor the other; and that was a pretty pickle to be in.
“Oho!” says the farmer, “you were after my sausages and my puddings, were you? Then you will come no more.”
And that was so; for when the farmer and his men were done with the ogre he never went into the woods again, for he could not.
As for the three little pigs, they trotted away into the woods every day of their lives, for there was nobody nowadays to stop them from gathering all the acorns that they wanted.
