Mary Jane shrank back toward the gate and how she did wish it was open so she could slip through and shut it tightly behind her.  She was afraid to turn her back to the pig long enough to climb over the gate as she had come; all the while she was trying her best to think of some way to get away, that fat, grunting pig was coming closer and closer.  Now it was half the length of the barn yard away.  Now it seemed to have spied her and was coming straight for her—­nose to the ground sniffing and grunting louder than ever.

Grandfather, working in the barn, heard and came a-running as fast as ever he could run; and Grandmother, ’way in the house, heard and dropped the receiver and ran out so fast that she was breathless when she reached the little girl.  Grandfather was nearest so got to her first.  Really, he saw what the matter was as soon as he got outside the barn and he shouted to the pig and flapped his arms in such a comical fashion that Mary Jane hardly knew whether to be afraid of him or to laugh.  But the pig had no such doubts.  She seemed to know that he meant she should go away.  She gave one final snort—­almost at Mary Jane’s toes—­and then turned and went back to the barn as fast as she could waddle.  The faster she waddled the more Grandfather flapped, till first thing she knew Mary Jane was laughing and had forgotten all about being afraid.

Grandfather reached down and picked her up, and Grandmother, who came through the gate at that minute (she seemed to know how to open it, Mary Jane noticed), patted her and gave her a kiss and a hug.

“Did we frighten you first thing, Puss?” asked Grandfather tenderly.  “That old Mrs. Pig wouldn’t hurt you for anything.  She was just trying to get acquainted.”

“Yes?” replied Mary Jane doubtfully, “but you see I’m not used to getting acquainted that way.  I ’spect she wouldn’t hurt me, but she didn’t act like she wouldn’t hurt me,” she added.

Grandfather threw back his head and laughed at that.  “No, she didn’t; you’re right, Mary Jane!  She acted pretty bad.  But you shouldn’t be here alone before you get used to our family.”

Grandmother explained about the ’phone calling her back.  “And I left the receiver hanging, I came so quickly,” she added laughingly.  “I guess I’ll go back now and hang it up.”

“Then I’ll show Mary Jane around myself,” said Grandfather firmly.  “She’s more important than work, so there!” He set her down beside him, took her hand snugly in his own (and it feels pretty good to have somebody hold your hand when everything is strange, you know that yourself), and they started off.

First they went into the barn where they saw Mrs. Pig, grunting still, but standing very meekly in her own corner; and eleven little pigs that grunted such cunning, squeaky little grunts.  Mary Jane wasn’t afraid of them for one minute.  They weren’t dirty as Mary Jane supposed pigs always were, not a bit dirty; they were tidy and neat and their little round sides shone like silk.