never safe to bathe for at least an hour after eating. You just play about until it is time for your swim."

"Oh, listen! listen! listen! There's the band playing! Oh! may we go over where the music is?" All this in such a jumble of voices!

"That is not a band. It sounds more like a merry-go-round, I should say," answered Mother Grunty, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh goody, goody! Oh goody, goody!" sang Little-wee. For Little-wee never could be very much delighted without breaking into his favorite jingle.

So, gathering up all the baggage, off they went. And Mother Grunty was right; the very merriest kind of merry-go-round was just ready to start on another "trip."

I just know you can guess what happened next. Yes, they all jumped on. And, luckily, that merry-go-round could carry just thirty piglets! After the first ride another was demanded, and then another and still another, though they were warned that there would be no time for the play in the lake. But, do you know, it seemed as though that music just bewitched them!

If long, heavy, distant rumbles of thunder had not warned these merrymakers, no telling how long they would have kept whirling. But with the storm sending down large, splashy raindrops the picnickers hurried for the trolley station.

The ride home was lots of fun, for the car was closed to keep out the rain. "Let's sing 'Merrily We Roll Along,'" someone suggested. And sing they did! Not even could the thunder be heard!

Fathers and big brothers, carrying raincoats and umbrellas enough for all, waited at the station as the trolley rolled into town.

"Haven't we had just the loveliest time!" exclaimed Little-wee, as the three Gruntys turned in at the doorway of the little brick house.

"Mother," asked Blacky-ears as they waited for the door to be unlocked—"Mother,—was Bad Boy Mischief there at the picnic?"

"I didn't see anything of him—not a glimpse all day. And that is a pretty good record when thirty little pigs go off for an all-day picnic!"

MISS PINKY PIG VISITS MOTHER GRUNTY

For ever and ever so long Mother Grunty had been wondering what should be done about Blacky-ears once he had finished his schooling at the little old stone schoolhouse. So one day in early spring she decided to talk things over with Miss Pinky Pig, who still taught the "rule of three" to all the lively piglets in the district.

Mother Grunty wrote a very cordial little note, asking her to come for supper on the following Thursday. Blacky-ears and Little-wee could scarcely wait for Thursday to come. They did love Miss Pinky Pig! Even to be allowed to carry her books or sharpen her pencil made them very happy. But to have her promise to walk home with them and stay to supper was the very nicest thing that could happen!

Mother Grunty had fruit cakes tucked away and sugared doughnuts sealed in stone jars and fresh molasses cookies in the cooky box. And when Thursday finally came, and good Mother Grunty had finished her work and gone upstairs to put on her most becoming dress and dainty white apron, whiffs of apple pie and chocolate frosting and other mysterious goodies floated everywhere.

"I don't wonder they all love her," Mother Grunty murmured as she peeped out of the front window to see dainty Miss Pinky Pig and Blacky-ears and Little-wee coming up the gravel path toward the little brick house. "She is so pretty and sweet and so very, very good," breathed Mother Grunty thankfully as she opened the door to greet the three.

"I have enjoyed this walk so much, Mother Grunty," smiled Miss Pinky Pig as she seated herself before the fireplace where a cheery fire of logs crackled merrily and quite drove away the sharpness of the early spring air. "What a wonderful fireplace! You must enjoy it so much. Have you lived in this house always, Mother Grunty?"

"Oh yes, ever since I can remember,—or almost as long. It was to this house I came at the dreadful time when my two brothers were eaten by the Wandering Wolf," Mother Grunty answered with a far-away light in her eyes.

"Why, Mother Grunty, I never knew you were the heroine of that oft-repeated tale of years ago. I do wish you would tell me the real story just word for word as it happened."

"Well, of course you know my two brothers and I were alone. Finally we decided to go out into the world and each follow his own wishes.

"Everyone wonders how it happened that one of the three built a house of straw and one a house of wood, while I had this strong house of bricks. Now very few know the real reason which is this:—

"From the time we were tiny, wee pigs our mother had given each of us an equal amount of money each week. Well, my brothers used to make fun of me because I never spent my share. They called me stingy and were sometimes very unkind. But when the day came for us to seek our fortunes, I had more money than the other two together.

"My older brother had only enough left to buy straw for a house, but he meant to work hard and save and buy a better and stronger home as soon as ever he could. My other brother could almost pay for a wooden house, and finding an old friend who would trust him, he settled himself very comfortably, we all thought. But I, with all my saved-up pennies, settled on this land and built this same strong little brick house.

"We were scarcely settled when, without any warning, along came the Wandering Wolf and killed my older brother, and ate him up.

"Now, most unfortunately, my younger brother was at town, making arrangements for a good housekeeper when this happened, or he would have been warned at least. But, do you know, he had scarcely gone into his house and closed the door when the dreadful huffing and puffing started just outside his house! I heard some noise over that way, but before I could find out what had caused it, the wolf had finished his dreadful work and was coming this way.

"My doors and windows were barred because, living here alone in those days one had to be very, very careful, so I just kept as still as I could.

"I shook with fear and could scarcely keep from crying out when he started jumping at the door and huffing and puffing!

"Of course, he could not get in. So he changed his plans. Why, Miss Pinky Pig, I can see his wicked grin to this day! He tried time and time again to catch me. And once when I was up in an apple tree I nearly fell with fright when I saw him below, glaring up at me. But I escaped, as you see," Mother Grunty smiled.

"Didn't you once roll down the hill in a churn?" asked Miss Pinky Pig.

"You bet she did," answered Blacky-ears, who never could hear the tale often enough.

"Well, finally,—and if you'll excuse me, I'll take you out to the kitchen and prepare a bit of supper while I finish my tale—finally, one day the wicked Wandering Wolf grew beside himself with rage and scrambled up onto this roof. The old roof was of shingles, and it makes me shiver even yet to remember how his heavy feet scratched and clawed on the thin wood!

"Well, I was ready for him. I hung this same old iron kettle over my roaring fireplace and—well, do you know, I can never bear to tell anybody what happened next. But until this day I have never seen another wolf," she ended as they seated themselves at the dainty table.

"I heard a wolf