Instructor Literature Series—No. 318

More Stories of
The Three Pigs

SARAH GRAMES CLARK

F. A. OWEN PUBLISHING COMPANY

DANSVILLE, N. Y.

INSTRUCTOR LITERATURE SERIES

More Stories of the
Three Pigs

By
SARAH GRAMES CLARK

Illustrated by
BESS BRUCE CLEAVELAND

F. A. OWEN PUBLISHING COMPANY
DANSVILLE, N. Y.

Copyright, 1921

F. A. OWEN PUBLISHING CO.

More Stories of the Three Pigs

CONTENTS

A TRIP TO STYFORD
MOTHER PORKY GOES VISITING
CHRISTMAS IN PIGLAND
THE PIGLETS GO PICNICKING
MISS PINKY PIG VISITS MOTHER GRUNTY

A TRIP TO STYFORD

You have all heard of the three little pigs. And you know all about how Old Mother Pig sent them forth to seek their fortunes, don't you? Of course you do!

You remember, too, how the Wandering Wolf frightened the one in the straw house and "ate up that poor little pig." And you will never forget how he afterwards scared the one in the wooden house and "ate up that poor little pig." And then, were you ever so glad, in all your life, as when he tried and tried and simply could not get the third little pig—that cunning, curly-tailed, squeaky-voiced little pig who lived in the little brick house!

Well, of course, this last little pig, whose name was Grunty, lived safely in her neat little red brick house for many years after the day when she ate up the Wandering Wolf for her dinner.

Some years after that day of feasting, Grunty Pig had two wee piggies of her own. The older one was white all over, except for his two black ears, so Mother Grunty at once named him Blacky-ears. The younger one looked just as his mother had looked when she was little—white all over, with a curly tail and a squeaky voice so cheery that everyone smiled when he spoke. He was called Little-wee Pig.

One day in June Mother Grunty thought she must go on a journey, and she worried about leaving Blacky-ears and Little-wee Pig alone, for she had not forgotten that the Wandering Wolves were not all dead and that one of them might get after her babies.

"Come here, piglets," she called from her kitchen window.

"All right, Mother, I'm coming," answered Little-wee Pig as he jumped from his swing and ran to the house.

But not so Blacky-ears! And I'll tell you why. Bad Boy Mischief, you remember, is always after everyone; little children, little bears, and little pigs. Blacky-ears, I am sorry to say, had been very friendly with him. So, as soon as Bad Boy Mischief heard Mother Grunty call, he hopped right onto Blacky's shoulder and whispered in his ear.

And what do you suppose? Blacky-ears listened and answered his mother just as Bad Boy Mischief had told him to! "Aw, wait a minute, can't you?" he grumbled!

When Mother Grunty called the second time, Blacky-ears managed to jerk himself into the house and stand sulkily beside her chair. Then she told the two piggies of her plan.

"Now," said Mother Grunty, "I find that I must go to Styford at once. I fear to leave you here alone, for I too well remember what happened to my two brothers. So, if you'll promise to be very, very good, you may go with me."

"Oh goody, goody!" sang Little-wee Pig, dancing around his mother's chair.

"Hurrah for some fun!" cried Blacky-ears.

"You will promise to be good, my dears?" said Mother Grunty anxiously.

"Oh yes, Mother, we'll be good," answered Little-wee Pig.

"You bet!" cried Blacky-ears.

So everything was hustle and bustle in the little brick house, for Mother Grunty was very neat. And everything must be made tidy and not one speck of dust must be left behind. But finally, on the third day, came the time to go.

Blacky-ears, dressed in his new blue suit with its shiny brass buttons, and wearing his little round cap set straight between his ears, looked as neat as a new pin. And Little-wee Pig, all in white except for his bright red sailor tie, was attractive too. But you should have seen the charming Mother Grunty in her trim black suit and sailor hat to match! Then you would have said, "Isn't she splendid!"

On the train everyone was happy, for even in that short ride there were many interesting sights. And Mother Grunty was ever so patient about explaining.

"Let's play 'I Spy,'" cried Blacky-ears.

"I mean, tell what we can spy out of the window. Whoever sees a thing first can say 'I spy.' Watch sharply! Oh, I spy a tall pine tree on a hill."

"I spy a tiny brook," called Little-wee Pig.

"Styford! Styford!" called the brakeman. And what a hustle to slip into wraps and gather up bundles!

Styford was a busy city, and Mother Grunty was very nervous. Such a hurrying and so much noise! It seemed to the three country pigs that they could never cross the main street!

"Take my hands, my dears," Mother Grunty urged anxiously. At the first crossing they did so. But soon Blacky-ears became used to the noise and hurry. Before he knew it, Bad Boy Mischief was once more riding on his shoulder.

"You're too old to take anyone's hand. You're smart enough to take care of yourself," he whispered.

And Blacky-ears listened. He jerked his hand out of his mother's and ran across the street. A large red hose wagon clanged out of the side street and just missed knocking him flat!

"Oh-h!" shrieked Mother Grunty as she hurried to catch him. "Why will you do such things? You promised me you would be so good. I fear you'll come to some bad end."

But that was only the beginning of the trouble. In the "Piggie and Wiggie" shop Blacky-ears bumped rudely against a case of glass dishes, jarring two of them to the floor,