"
"Oh, yes, indeed!" agreed Mr. Pig. "Once, when I was a little pig, a dog
bit me on the tail, and I never got over it. In fact I have the marks
yet," and he tried to look around at his tail, which had a kink in it.
But Mr. Pig was too fat to see his own tail.
"So that's why I took hold of Squinty by the ear," went on Don. "Did I
hurt you very much?" he asked the little pig who had run out of the pen.
"Oh, no; not much," Squinty said, as he rubbed his ear with his paw.
Then, as he saw a bunch of pig weed close to him, he began nibbling
that. And his brothers and sisters, seeing him do this, began to eat the
pig weed also.
"Come! This will never do!" barked Don, the dog. "I am sorry, but all
you pigs must go back in your own pen. The farmer would not like you to
be out in his garden."
"Yes, I suppose we must," said Mrs. Pig, with a sigh. "Yet it is very
nice out in the garden. But we must stay in our pen."
"Come, children," said Mr. Pig. "We must stay in our own place, for if
we rooted up the farmer's garden, much as we would like to do it, he
would have no vegetables to eat this winter.
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