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"Don't you hear something making a noise?" asked Mrs. Pig of her husband. "Why, yes, I think I do," he answered slowly, as he looked in the feed trough, to see if the farmer had left any more sour milk there for the pig family to eat. But there was none. "I hear someone squealing," said Wuff-Wuff, the largest boy pig of them all. "So do I," said Squeaker, a little girl pig. Mrs.
"They'll have to send Wuff-Wuff, or Squealer. And maybe they'll get lost, the same as I did. Oh dear, I guess I won't squeal any more. It's bad enough for me to be lost, without any of my brothers or sisters getting lost, too." So Squinty stopped squealing, and walked on and on between the rows of corn, trying to find his way home to the pen all by himself.
Then they saw their mamma and papa looking anxious, and talking together in their grunting language, and Wuff-Wuff asked: "Has anything happened?" "Squinty is lost!" said Mrs. Pig, rubbing her nose up against that of Curly Tail, the littlest girl pig of them all. "He must have run out of the pen when we were asleep." "Oh dear!" cried all the little pigs, and they felt very badly.
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