“Don’t go—oh, don’t go,” said the fairy.
The pig turned round.
“You’ve not had your reward,” said the fairy.
“I don’t want any reward, thank you,” grunted the pig, and moved on.
But the fairy persisted. She flew after him. “You must have a reward,” she said. “I shall be most unhappy if you don’t.”
“But I don’t want anything, thank you,” said the pig. “I have been very glad to help you.”
The fairy stood in front of him, anxiously pondering as to what she could possibly give him that might be of any use. Nobody seemed to want her fairy gifts. She looked him up and down.
“Wouldn’t you like something—something to make you more beautiful?” she said.
She really meant less ugly, but she was so grateful to the pig that she was very anxious not to hurt his feelings, and so she put it that way.
“I’m afraid it’s rather hopeless,” said the pig, with half a smile. “You see, I’m such an ugly fellow. You’d have to alter me all over.”