Of course it would not sound like real talk, such as you use, but it was real enough for Slicko and Squinty, and they could understand each other very well. They could also understand man-talk, your talk, also, as I will tell you a little later. But neither Slicko nor Squinty could speak man-language.
“Ha! So your name is Squinty, eh?” asked Slicko, of the little pig. “Why are you called such a funny name?”
“Because one of my eyes squints a little,” was the answer. “See!” Squinty looked up to show Slicko, and the little pig was such a funny picture, as he stood there, with one eye partly shut, and the other wide open, with his head on one side, and one ear cocked forward and the other backward, he was so funny, I say, that Slicko could not help laughing.
“Huh! What are you laughing at?” asked Squinty, in his funny grunting voice, with his little flat, rubbery nose wiggling sideways, and also up and down.
“I am laughing at you,” answered Slicko. “Excuse me, but I can’t help it. You are so funny, and you have such a funny name.”
“Oh, I don’t mind being laughed at,” said Squinty, with a sort of pig-laugh. “I am glad if you want to laugh, for it is better to laugh than cry. And I don’t mind my funny name,” he said. I think that was very nice of Squinty to say, don’t you?
“I am glad I met you,” said the little girl squirrel. “At first I thought you were a hunter in the bushes.”
“And I thought you were some one chasing me, when you called that way,” said Squinty. “But you haven’t told me your name yet.”
