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Updated: May 10, 2025
And not knowing where else to go, he sat down on a bush in Farmer Green's garden, to ponder. Who could tell him how long it would take Grunty Pig to uproot the old apple tree? Although Jolly Robin thought and thought, he could think of no one whom he might ask. To be sure, there was Tommy Fox, who was known to be an able digger. But Jolly Robin didn't trust him. Tommy Fox was tricky.
Grunty Pig enjoyed his ramble into the field of waving corn. The corn was sweet; and the dirt was loose just the finest sort to root in that a body could possibly want. He had the place all to himself until at last a black gentleman came flying up in a great hurry and ordered him in a hoarse voice to "get out of the corn and be quick about it!"
Now, Grunty Pig didn't answer a single one of Henrietta's questions. He merely stared at her and said nothing. So it was no wonder that she thought him stupid. "Poor Mrs. Pig!" thought Henrietta Hen. "It's bad enough to have a child so untidy as this youngster. But it's far worse to have a dull-witted one."
Grunty Pig shook his head. "No!" he said, half to himself. "No! I can't do it." "Why not?" Mr. Mouse wanted to know. "I've never been invited," Grunty told him, with something like a frown. Moses Mouse surprised him with a merry laugh. "Ho!" he exclaimed. "Neither have I. If I had waited for an invitation I wouldn't be living in the farmhouse. I'd have shivered my days out in the barn."
Jolly Robin answered. It was Grunty Pig that had spoken. "Pardon me!" he said. "I thought I heard you mention the name, 'Pig'." "Er yes! We did speak of your family, in a general way," Jolly Robin admitted. "Ah!" said Grunty Pig. "And what was it you said about us? Weren't you and your wife laughing about our climbing trees?"
It seems to me you'd be more at your ease. It would certainly be polite of you." Grunty Pig, however, cared little for politeness. He said that nobody was polite to him. His brothers and even his sisters were always knocking him down and trampling on him. "Very well!" said Spot. "Squirm through that fence and follow me." It was a tight squeeze.
"Grunty!" "Ah! I am sorry to hear it. Why, what is the matter?" "Broomsticks, chiefly." "You mean the witches. That is a bad business. But how shall we mend it?" The old carpenter was too shrewd to commit himself. He glanced at Master Putnam, and then turning his head aside, and giving a little laugh, said, "Burn all the broomsticks." "A good idea," replied Master Putnam, also laughing.
Pig took it into her head to have her children say the morning's lesson again. So she called her youngsters together. And she asked Grunty the first of all to recite what she had taught him. "I think it was something about a bear," he stammered, "but I can't remember exactly." "Dear me!" said poor Mrs. Pig. "I don't know what I'll do with this lad."
"Well," Grunty remarked, "it's an honor, anyhow, to live in the farmhouse. You ought not to complain about the food, even if it is a bit scarce at times. I'd be glad to live there. And I dare say I'd find a plenty to eat. The farmhouse is where the sour milk comes from." "If you feel like that," said Moses Mouse, "why don't you join us? Why don't you come to the farmhouse for the winter, anyhow?"
"Out in the wide world there must be many good things to eat," he thought. "I'd like to find the place where the potato-parings grow." But of all this, Grunty Pig said nothing to anyone. If the chance ever came to slip out of the pen, he intended to take nobody with him. He had not yet caught up with his brothers and sisters in size, even if he had outstripped them in the matter of brains.
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