These were some of the questions Squinty’s brothers and sisters asked of the little runaway pig.  They pressed close up to him, rubbing their funny, wiggling, rubber-like noses against him, and snuggling up against him, for they liked Squinty very much indeed.

Then, after the young pigs had had their turn, Mr. Pig and Mrs. Pig began asking questions.

“What made you run away?” asked Squinty’s papa.

“Oh, I wanted to have an adventure,” said Squinty.

“Well, did you have one?” asked his mamma.

“Oh, yes, lots of them,” answered the little pig.  “But I didn’t find very much to eat.”  Squinty was very hungry now.

“Oh dear!” exclaimed Mrs. Pig.  “You are just too late for supper.  It is all eaten up.  We did not see that you were not here until too late.  It’s too bad!”

Squinty thought so himself, for the smell of the sour milk that had been in the feeding trough made him more hungry than ever.

Squinty walked over and tried to find a few drops in the bottom of the wooden trough.  These he licked up with his red tongue.  But there was not nearly enough.

“Ha!  I guess that little pig must be hungry,” said the farmer looking down in the pen, after he had put some more stones and a board over the hole where Squinty had gotten out.  “I guess I’ll have to feed him, for the others have had their supper.”

And how glad Squinty was when the farmer went over to the barrel, where the pigs’ feed was kept, and mixed a nice pailful of sour milk with some corn meal, and poured it into the trough.

“Squee!  Squee!” cried Squinty as he made a rush over to get his supper.

“Squee!  Squee!” cried all the other little pigs, as they, too, made a rush to get more to eat.

“Here!  Hold on!  Come back!” cried Mr. Pig.  “That is Squinty’s supper.  You must not touch it.  You have had yours!” and he and Mrs. Pig would not let Squinty’s brothers and sisters shove him away from the trough.  For sometimes pigs are so hungry that they do this, you know.  Being pigs they know no better.

So Squinty had his supper, after all, though he did run away.  Perhaps he should have been punished by being sent to bed without having had anything to eat, but you see the farmer wanted his pigs to be fat and healthy, so he fed them well.  Squinty was very glad of that.

“Now all of you go to sleep,” said Mrs. Pig, when it grew darker and darker in the pen.  So she made them all cuddle down in the straw, pulling it over them with her nose and paws, like a blanket, to keep them warm.  For only part of the pen had a roof over it, and though it was summer, still it was cool at night.

But Squinty’s brothers and sisters had no notion of going to sleep so soon.  They wanted to hear all about what had happened to him when he had run away, and they wanted him to tell them of his adventures.  So they grunted and whispered among themselves.