“Oh, ho!” exclaimed the old gentleman pig, “Oh, ho!  How are you today, Curly?”

“Very well, sir, thank you,” replied the pig boy politely, and he looked around to see if the curly kink had come out of his tail where the bear had tied him to the round fence rail, but the curl was still there.

“And how is this other little chap?” went on Grandpa Squealer, as he took a pinch of snuff, and then looked in his vest pocket to see if he had any spare pennies.  “How are you, Bub?” he asked.  “You haven’t any name yet, have you?”

“No sir,” answered the brother of Curly.  “I wish I had, though,” and he also wished that Grandpa Squealer would find a penny so that he and his brother could buy a lollypop, and that wish came true, if you will kindly believe me.  For the old gentleman pig did find two pennies.

“There now, boys,” he said, “run along to the candy store.  And maybe you can buy a name for yourself,” and he playfully pulled the ears of Curly’s brother.  Then Grandpa Squealer sneezed again and walked on, and so did the two boy pigs.

“I’m going to buy a corn lollypop,” said Curly.

“I think I’ll buy a sour-milk one,” said his brother, for you know little pigs, and big ones, too, like sour milk as much as you like yours sweet.  Isn’t that funny?

So they walked on together, talking of different things, and pretty soon they came to a place where there were two stores.  One was painted red and the other was painted blue.

“I’m going in the red store for my lollypop,” said Curly.

“Oh, let’s go in the blue one,” suggested his brother.  “Maybe I can buy a name for myself in there.  I am tired of being called ‘Bub’ and ‘Johnny,’ and names like that.”

But the two brothers couldn’t agree, so Curly went in the red store and his brother in the blue one.  The blue store was kept by an old lady dog, and when the little pig, who, as yet, had no name, entered, the old lady dog storekeeper looked over the counter and asked: 

“Well, little pig boy, what do you want?”

“If you please,” he answered, “do you keep names to sell?”

“Why, what a funny question!” barked the dog lady.  “The only names I have are names of candy, and I’m sure you don’t want any of those, do you?  There is peppermint and spearmint and cinnamon and lemon drops and cocoanut kisses and lollypops and jaw-breakers and tootsie rolls and chocolate—­do you want any of those names?”

“No,” replied the little pig boy, “I don’t think I like any of those names for myself.  I wouldn’t want to be called Cocoanut Kisses, nor yet Lollypops, nor even Tootsie Rolls.  Oh dear!  I wish I could get a name such as my brother Curly has.  But maybe I will some day.  And now, if you please, I’ll have a sour-milk lollypop.”

So the old lady dog storekeeper gave it to the little pig boy, and he handed her his penny.  He was just taking the paper off the lollypop, and was going to eat it—­the lollypop, not the paper, you understand—­and go out and see if his brother had come out of the red store, when, all of a sudden, a little puppy dog boy who had just come in from school saw the pig boy in the store, and right at him he sprang with a bow wow bark.