For some time the little lost pig rested on the cool earth, in the shade
of the rows of corn. Then he got up with a grunt and a squeal, and began
rooting in the ground.
"Perhaps I may find some potatoes, or some pig weed, here," thought
Squinty. "Who knows?"
But all he could root up, with his queer, rubbery nose, was some round
stones. Some of these were brown, and looked so much like the little
potatoes, that Squinty tried to chew one. But when he felt the hard
stone on his little white teeth he cried out in pain.
"Ouch!" squealed Squinty. "That hurt! Those are funny potatoes! I never
knew they could be so hard."
Later on he learned that what he supposed were potatoes were only
stones. You see it takes a little pig some time to learn all the things
he needs to know.
Squinty let the stone roll out of his mouth, and he looked at it with
such an odd look on his face, peering at it with his squinty eye, and
with one ear cocked up sort of sideways, that, if you had seen him, you
could not have helped laughing.
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