“Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
“No, no, by the hair of my chiny chin chin.”
“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in.”
Well, he huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he puffed and huffed; but he could not get the house down. When he found that he could not, with all his huffing and puffing, blow the house down, he said:
“Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips.”
“Where?” said the little pig.
“Oh, in Mr. Smith’s Home-field, and if you will be ready tomorrow morning I will call for you, and we will go together, and get some for dinner.”
“Very well,” said the little pig, “I will be ready. What time do you mean to go?”
“Oh, at six o’clock.”
Well, the little pig got up at five, and got the turnips before the wolf came (which he did about six) and who said: