“Bow-wow!” barked Don, for he was getting old enough now to bark almost like a big dog. I guess he meant to say that he was not afraid of a rooster, though, to tell the truth, I think he was, just a little bit.
“Come on, Don!” called Bob, and the dog followed his master.
On the way to the chicken coop they passed the pen where the pigs were kept.
“I guess I’ll show you the pigs, Don,” said Bob. “You must get to know them, so if any of them get out, any time, you can chase them, and make them go back into their pen.”
Bob lifted Don up in his arms, and held him over the edge of the pig pen. There was one big, mother pig, and seven little ones. One of the little pigs had a funny, squinting eye. It was partly closed, and the other eye was wide open, and when this little pig looked up at you, with one ear lifted up, and the other drooping down, you felt as though you wanted to laugh, he was so comical.
As Bob lifted his dog Don up to see the pigs, this one I have told you about raised up on his hind legs and squealed.
“Hello, Squinty!” called the boy, for the pig was named Squinty, on account of his squinting eye. “Hello, Squinty!” cried Bob. “I guess you’d like to get out and dig in the garden, eh? Well, you can’t, so you must stay in the pen.”
“Squee! Squee!” cried Squinty, the comical pig, about whom I have told you in the book named after him. He had many adventures, did Squinty—adventures with Slicko, the squirrel; with Mappo, the merry monkey; and with Tum Tum, the jolly elephant.
“Squee! Squee!” grunted Squinty, looking at Don in that funny way.
“No, you can’t get out,” said Bob, laughing.