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Grunty had no way of knowing that Henrietta Hen forgot all about him before she had crossed the farmyard. She fell into a loud dispute with a neighbor. And she never thought of Grunty again.
Grunty Pig enjoyed his ramble into the field of waving corn. The corn was sweet; and the dirt was loose--just the finest sort to root in that a body could possibly want. He had the place all to himself until at last a black gentleman came flying up in a great hurry and ordered him in a hoa.r.s.e voice to "get out of the corn--and be quick about it!"
On him Grunty Pig tried the same trick that he had used on Henrietta Hen. He looked up with a stupid stare at the newcomer and said never a word.
Old Mr. Crow--for it was he that had commanded Grunty to leave--old Mr.
Crow abused him roundly. Mr. Crow was not empty-headed, like Henrietta Hen. He was not to be deceived so easily.
"Why don't you answer me?" he bawled. "You make noise enough when you're at home. I've heard you often, way across the cornfield." Mr. Crow cawed so angrily that a dozen of his cronies flew over from the woods to see what was going on. And the whole thirteen made such an uproar that Farmer Green couldn't help noticing them. He and Johnnie were in the orchard, hunting for Grunty Pig.
"Those crows are up to some mischief," Farmer Green declared. "You don't suppose--do you?--that they're teasing that pig?"
Well, Johnnie Green was willing to go and find out. And sure enough! he found Grunty in the cornfield.
Johnnie Green picked him up, tucked him under his arm--plastered with dried mud as he was--and brought him in triumph to the barn.
Farmer Green laughed when he saw Grunty Pig.
"He looks as if he had been enjoying himself," he remarked as he dropped Grunty into the pen with the rest of Mrs. Pig's children.
"Are you going to feed him?" Johnnie Green inquired.
Again his father laughed.
"No!" he replied. "That pig has stuffed himself so full he can scarcely waddle."
As for Mrs. Pig, she didn't know whether to laugh or to weep. She was glad to have Grunty safe at home again; but he was a sad sight.
At first Mrs. Pig thought Farmer Green had made a mistake. She thought he had found somebody else's child. For Grunty was so daubed with black mud that she actually didn't know him until she heard him grunt. "Where have you been?" she asked him in her sternest voice.
"I've been out in the world," he answered. "And I've had a fine time."
"It's easy to see," said Mrs. Pig, "that you're a born wallower. It's a pity that you haven't your brother Blackie's complexion. The dirt does show so dreadfully on silver bristles!"
VII
THE GRUMBLER
All the farmyard folk agreed that Farmer Green took the best of care of everybody. Mrs. Pig often told her children that they were lucky to have so good a home. And not having lived anywhere else, they never imagined that anything could be finer than their pen.
After the day when he escaped from the pen, however, Grunty Pig began to complain. He wasn't satisfied with the food that Farmer Green gave him, he grumbled because there was no good place to wallow in mud, and especially did he object because there wasn't a tree to rub against.
"The orchard," he often said, "is a much pleasanter place than this pen is. There are trees enough in the orchard for every member of our family to rub against--all at the same time."
Somehow, when Grunty talked in that fas.h.i.+on every one of Mrs. Pig's children began to crowd against the sides of the pen. And even Mrs. Pig herself felt an annoying tickling along her back. She did wish that Grunty wouldn't mention such matters.
But nothing Mrs. Pig could say seemed to do any good. He was always prattling, anyhow. She could no more stop his flow of grunts and squeals than she could have kept the water in the brook from babbling down the mountainside to Swift River.
And even more annoying to Mrs. Pig was the way her son Grunty tried to rub his back against _her_. She said "Don't!" to him so often that she became heartily sick of the word.
What bothered Mrs. Pig most of all was Grunty's behavior whenever Farmer Green came to the pen. It was mortifying to her to have her son actually try to _scratch his back_ against her in the presence of a visitor.
"I do hope," said Mrs. Pig to Farmer Green, "I do hope you don't think that I haven't tried to teach this child better manners." And then, when all the rest of her family began to squirm and fidget against the sides of the pen she added with a sigh, "Look at them! Anyone would suppose they had had no bringing up at all!"
Farmer Green smiled as he leaned over the pen and watched the antics of Grunty Pig and his brothers and sisters.
"There's something that I can do for your family to make them happier,"
he told Mrs. Pig. "To-morrow--if I can spare the time--I'll make a change here. A lady who's raising such a fine family as yours deserves the best there is. She ought to have a home with every modern improvement."
"There!" Mrs. Pig exclaimed to her children as soon as Farmer Green left them. "Did you hear what he said? Farmer Green is a kind man. I shouldn't have blamed him if he had put us into the poorest pen on the place, after seeing your unmannerly actions. You'll have to behave better--especially after we have our new improvements."
Well, the next day Farmer Green brought a stout post and set it firmly in the center of Mrs. Pig's pen.
"That's for you and your family to rub against," he informed Mrs. Pig.
Really, he needn't have explained what the improvement was for. No sooner had he climbed out of the pen than Mrs. Pig and her children began to put the rubbing post to good use. Grunty was the first of all to try it. And to his mother's delight, he stopped grumbling at once.
Nor did he ever again disgrace her by scratching his back against her.
Instead, he always walked up to the rubbing post like a little gentleman. At least, that was what Mrs. Pig said.
[Ill.u.s.tration: The Muley Cow Advises Grunty Pig to Go Home.
(_Page 34_)]
VIII
FEARFUL NEWS
There came a day at last when Farmer Green gave Mrs. Pig and her family a great treat. He let them out of their pen and turned them loose in a little yard out of doors. Such gruntings and squealings hadn't been heard on the farm for a long time. It was just like a picnic. And everybody had the finest of times. Still, Grunty Pig wasn't content to stay in the yard with the rest of the family. It wasn't long before he found a hole in the fence big enough to wriggle through. And off he went. And he was actually glad, for once, that he was the littlest of the family. There wasn't another of Mrs. Pig's children that could squeeze through the opening.
Grunty Pig trotted the whole length of the lane. When he reached the pasture he found himself face to face with the Muley Cow, who acted much surprised to see him there.
"You'd better go back home at once," she advised him. "There are bears on Blue Mountain. Sometimes they come down this way. Only last week I had an adventure with one in the back pasture." She did not tell Grunty that she had run away from Cuffy Bear, down the hillside. "A bear," said the Muley Cow, "would be delighted to meet a tender little pig like you."
Grunty Pig did not even thank the Muley Cow for warning him.
"I'd like to meet a bear," he declared stoutly. "I hope I'll meet one to-day."
Leaving the Muley Cow, he zigzagged up the hill through the pasture, stopping now and then to dig up many a juicy root.
Although Mrs. Pig missed her runaway son after a time, she was not greatly disturbed.
"He can't be far off," she thought. "He'll come back before dark." And when Grunty did at last come crawling into the little yard Mrs. Pig was merely vexed with him for having gone off without her consent. She was just about to give him a well deserved scolding. But before she could speak to him, Grunty greeted her with a loud squeal.