"Squee! Squee!" cried Squinty as he made a rush over to get his supper.
"Squee! Squee!" cried all the other little pigs, as they, too, made a rush to get more to eat.
"Here! Hold on! Come back!" cried Mr. Pig. "That is Squinty's supper. You must not touch it. You have had yours!" and he and Mrs. Pig would not let Squinty's brothers and sisters shove him away from the trough. For sometimes pigs are so hungry that they do this, you know. Being pigs they know no better.
So Squinty had his supper, after all, though he did run away. Perhaps he should have been punished by being sent to bed without having had anything to eat, but you see the farmer wanted his pigs to be fat and healthy, so he fed them well. Squinty was very glad of that.
"Now all of you go to sleep," said Mrs. Pig, when it grew darker and darker in the pen. So she made them all cuddle down in the straw, pulling it over them with her nose and paws, like a blanket, to keep them warm. For only part of the pen had a roof over it, and though it was summer, still it was cool at night.
But Squinty's brothers and sisters had no notion of going to sleep so soon. They wanted to hear all about what had happened to him when he had run away, and they wanted him to tell them of his adventures. So they grunted and whispered among themselves.
"What happened to you, Squinty?" asked Wuff-Wuff.
"Oh, I had a fine swim in a brook," said Squinty.
"I wish that had happened to me," said Wuff-Wuff. "What else?"
"I found a nice field of corn," went on Squinty, "but I did not like the taste of it. I got lost in the cornfield."