“Yes, we’ll take him along in the balloon with us,” said the taller of the two men.  “See, he doesn’t seem to be a bit afraid.”

“No, and look!  He must be a trick pig!  Maybe he got away from some circus!” cried the other man.  For, at that moment Squinty stood up on his hind legs, as the boy had taught him, and walked over toward the big balloon basket.  What he really wanted was something to eat, but the men did not know that.

“He surely is a cute little pig!” cried the tall man.  “I’ll lift him in.  You toss out another bag of sand, and we’ll go up.”

[Illustration:  The next moment Squinty felt himself lifted off the ground.]

The next moment, before he could get out of the man’s grasp if he had wanted to, Squinty felt himself lifted off the ground.  He was put down in the bottom of the basket, which held many things, and, a second later, Squinty, the comical pig, felt himself flying upward through the air.

Squinty was off on a trip in a balloon.

CHAPTER X

SQUINTY AND THE SQUIRREL

Up, up, and up some more went Squinty, the comical pig.  At first the fast motion in the balloon made him a little dizzy, just as it might make you feel queer the first time you went on a merry-go-’round.

“Uff!  Uff!” grunted Squinty.  He was so surprised at this sudden adventure that, really, he did not know what to say.

“I wonder if he’s afraid?” said one of the men.

“He acts so,” the other answered.  “But he’ll get used to it.  How high up are you going?”

“Oh, about a mile, I guess.”

Squinty cuddled down in the basket of the balloon, between two bags full of something, and shivered.

“My goodness me!” thought poor Squinty.  “A mile up in the air!  That’s awfully high.”

He knew about how far a mile was on land, for it was about the distance from the farmhouse, near where his pen used to be, to the village church.  He had often heard the farmer man say so.

“And if it was a mile from my pen to the church, and that mile of road was stood straight up in the air,” thought Squinty, “it would be a terrible long way to fall.  I hope I don’t fall.”

And it did not seem as if he would—­at least not right away.  The basket in which he was riding looked good and strong.  Squinty had shut his eyes when he heard the men speak about going a mile up in the air, but now, as the balloon seemed to have stopped rising, the little pig opened his eyes again, and peered all about him.

“Look!” exclaimed one of the men with a laugh.  “Hasn’t that pig the most comical face you ever saw?”

“That’s what he has,” answered the other.  “He makes me want to laugh every time I look at him, with that funny half-shut eye of his.”

“Well,” thought Squinty, “I’m glad somebody is happy and jolly, and wants to laugh, for I’m sure I don’t.  I wish I hadn’t run away from the nice boy who taught me the tricks.”