Then, after the young pigs had had their turn, Mr. Pig and Mrs. Pig began asking questions.
"What made you run away?" asked Squinty's papa.
"Oh, I wanted to have an adventure," said Squinty.
"Well, did you have one?" asked his mamma.
"Oh, yes, lots of them," answered the little pig. "But I didn't find very much to eat." Squinty was very hungry now.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Pig. "You are just too late for supper. It is all eaten up. We did not see that you were not here until too late. It's too bad!"
Squinty thought so himself, for the smell of the sour milk that had been in the feeding trough made him more hungry than ever.
Squinty walked over and tried to find a few drops in the bottom of the wooden trough. These he licked up with his red tongue. But there was not nearly enough.
"Ha! I guess that little pig must be hungry," said the farmer looking down in the pen, after he had put some more stones and a board over the hole where Squinty had gotten out. "I guess I'll have to feed him, for the others have had their supper."
And how glad Squinty was when the farmer went over to the barrel, where the pigs' feed was kept, and mixed a nice pailful of sour milk with some corn meal, and poured it into the trough.