“Oh, I like them, Grandfather!” she exclaimed.  “Could I play with them someday?”

“I thought you didn’t like pigs,” teased Grandfather.

“Oh, but these aren’t pigs,” corrected Mary Jane; “these are piggies; nice piggies like in my painting book.  I like them.”

“I don’t know about playing with them,” laughed Grandfather; “we’ll have to see.  But I’ll tell you what you may do; when we’re through looking all over the place, you may come back here with me and feed them.  Would you like that?”

Would she?  Mary Jane clapped her hands and wanted to insist on feeding them right that very minute; only, just in time, she remembered that she wasn’t to tease.  So she slipped her hand back into Grandfather’s big one and they went on with their walk.

Next they saw Brindle Bess, but Mary Jane didn’t like her as well as the little pigs.  She switched her tail and looked around at Mary Jane so pointedly that Mary Jane was really relieved when Grandfather slipped around and opened the door and let her wander out to pasture.

“She’s an awful big cow, isn’t she, Grandfather?” said Mary Jane, as the cow ambled off.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Grandfather, not understanding.

“Well, she’s lots bigger than me when I’m five,” said Mary Jane positively.  “I think I like little things best.”

“Then I’ve the very creature to show you,” said Grandfather, “and we might as well see him now because your grandmother will want to show you the chickens when she comes out.  We’ll lock this door so Mrs. Pig can’t get out into the front barn yard again, and then we’ll cross the road and I’ll show you something you’ll like.”

“Will it be big?” asked Mary Jane as she skipped along beside him.

“Middling big and middling little,” answered Grandfather.

“Will it be brown or gray?” asked Mary Jane, thinking of the cow and the pigs.

“Neither,” said Grandfather.

That puzzled Mary Jane, but she couldn’t think of anything else to guess so she kept her eyes carefully ahead as they went down the yard and across the road, in hopes she Would see the surprise quicker that way.

Across the road from Grandfather’s house was a strip of wooded land which Grandfather had let grow wild.  Grandmother loved the trees and the wild flowers and liked to feel that they were near to her.

“Oh!” exclaimed Mary Jane as they crossed the road, “see those trees!  Are those the surprise?”

“My, no!” replied Grandfather; “those are only a couple of wild crab trees—­they do look pretty full of bloom as they are, don’t they?  But the surprise is a real, live, running around surprise.  Here, let me boost you over the fence; that’s more fun than a dozen gates.”  He set Mary Jane over the fence and then came in the gate and locked it carefully behind him.

“Are you ’fraid it’ll get away, is that why you lock the gate?” asked Mary Jane.