CURLY TWISTYTAIL IS NAMED

Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, in the days when there were fairies and giants and all things like that, there lived in a little house, on the edge of a wood, a family of pigs.  Now these pigs weren’t like the pigs, which perhaps you children have seen on most farms.  No, indeed!  They were just the nicest cleanest, sweetest pigs you ever dreamed of—­not that pigs on a farm can’t be clean, if they want to, but, somehow or other, no one seems to have time to see that they are clean.  I guess it would take some one like Jennie Chipmunk to sweep and dust their pen for them.

Anyhow the pigs I am going to tell you about were very different from most pigs, and they had some very funny adventures.

First, there was the papa pig, and his name was Mr. Archibald Twistytail though no one ever called him anything but Mr. Twistytail except maybe his wife, when he forgot to bring up a scuttle of coal so she could do the washing.  And then, of course there was Mrs. Twistytail—­she was the mamma pig.  And there were two little boy pigs, and for a time they didn’t have any names, as their papa and mamma were so busy that they couldn’t think what to call them.  So they just said “Here sonny!” or “Hi, Bubby,” whenever they wanted them to come in, or eat their dinner.

One of these little boy pigs always wore short trousers with stripes painted on them, and the other little piggie chap’s trousers were like a checker-board.

And then—­oh, but I almost forgot about the little baby pig.  She was the sweetest little creature you can imagine, and her right name was Pinky, because she was so pink, just like a baby’s toes when she sleeps in her crib.  But Pinky was hardly ever called by her right name, almost every one said just “Baby,” and that answered very well.

And now I’m going to tell you how one of the pigs got his name.  He was the oldest pig of the three children, and one day he and his brother thought they would go out for a walk.

“Come along!” exclaimed the oldest boy pig.  “Maybe we will have an adventure, such as Uncle Wiggily Longears used to have,” for you see the pigs knew Uncle Wiggly almost as well as you do.

“All right,” said the younger boy pig.  “Where shall we go?”

“Off in the woods,” spoke his brother.  “The woods are full of adventures.”

So they strolled out of their house, and started for the woods.  I forgot to say that the Twistytail family of pigs lived in a regular house—­of course not the kind you boys and girls live in, but still it was a very good house for pigs.  It had tables in it, and chairs and beds and all things like that.  And the reason they were called “Twistytail” was because their tails did have a sort of twist or turn in them.

Well, the two pig boys wandered on through the woods, and pretty soon they came to two paths, one leading to left and the other to the right.