“Is he all right?” one of the girls would ask.

“He seems to be,” the boy would say.  “I am glad I got him.”

“Well, he acts real cute,” said another girl, who was called Sallie, “but I never heard of having a pig for a pet before.”

“You just wait until I teach him some tricks,” said the boy, whose name was Bob.  “Then you’ll think he’s fine!”

“Ha!  So I am to learn tricks,” thought Squinty in his box.  “I wonder what tricks are, anyhow?  Does it mean I am to have good things to eat?  I hope so.”

You see Squinty, like most little pigs, thought more of something to eat than of anything else.  But we must not blame him for that, since he could not help it.

Pretty soon the wagon rattled over some stones, and then came to a stop.

“Here we are!” called the children’s father.  “Bring along your little pig, Bob.  Here comes the train.”

“Ha!  It seems I am to go on a train,” thought Squinty.  “I wonder what a train is?”

Squinty had many things to learn, didn’t he?

The little pig in the box felt himself being lifted out of the wagon.  Then he could look about him.  He saw a large building, in front of which were long, slender strips of shining steel.  These were the railroad tracks, but Squinty did not know that.  Then all at once, Squinty heard a loud noise, which went like this: 

“Whee!  Whee!  Whee-whee!”

“Oh my! what a loud squeal that pig has!” exclaimed Squinty.  “He can squeal much louder than I can, I think.  Let me try.”

So Squinty went: 

“Squee!  Squee!  Squee!”

And then the big noise sounded again, louder than before: 

“Whee!  Whee!  Toot!  Toot!”

“Oh my!” said Squinty to himself, snuggling down in the straw of his box.  “I never can squeal as loud as that.  Never!”

He looked out and saw a big black thing rushing toward him, with smoke coming out of the top, and then the big black thing cried out again: 

“Whee!  Whee!  Toot!  Toot!”

“Oh, what a terrible, big black pig!” thought Squinty.  And he was a bit frightened.  But it was not a big black pig at all.  It was only the engine drawing the train of cars up to the station to take the passengers away.  And it was going to take Squinty, also.

Squinty thought the engine whistle was a pig’s squeal, but it wasn’t, of course.

Pretty soon the train stopped.  The passengers made a rush to get in the cars.  Bob, the boy, caught up the handle of Squinty’s box, and, after some bumping and tilting sideways, the little pig found himself set down in a rather dark place, for the boy had put the box on the floor of the car by his seat, near his feet.

And there Squinty rode, seeing nothing, but hearing many strange noises, until, after many stops, he was lifted up again.

“Here we are!” the little pig heard the children’s papa say.  “Have you everything?  Don’t forget your pig, Bob.”