There were seven pigs
in all, and Squinty was the last one, so you see he came from quite a
large family. When his mother had named six of her little pigs she came
to Squinty.
"Let me see," grunted Mrs. Pig in her own way, for you know animals have
a language of their own which no one else can understand. "Let me see,"
said Mrs. Pig, "what shall I call you?"
She was thinking of naming him Floppy, because the lid of one of his
eyes sort of flopped down. But just then a lot of boys and girls came
running out to the pig pen.
The boys and girls had come on a visit to the farmer who owned the pigs,
and when they looked in, and saw big Mr. and Mrs. Pig, and the little
ones, one boy called out:
"Oh, what a queer little pig, with one eye partly open! And how funny he
looks at you! What is his name?"
"Well, I guess we'll call him Squinty," the farmer had said. And so,
just as I have told you, Squinty got his name.
"Humph! Squinty!" exclaimed Mrs. Pig, as she heard what the farmer said.
"I don't know as I like that.
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