"Bow wow!" barked Don. "I will!"

But the pigs did not need much driving, for they were very good, and did
not want to cause Don, or the farmer, any trouble if they could help it.

Soon Squinty and the others were safely in the pen again. The farmer
looked at them carefully.

"So, you thought you'd like to get out and have a run, did you?" he
asked, speaking to pigs just as if they could understand him. And they
did, just as your dog understands, and minds you when you call to him to
come to you.

"So you wanted a run in the garden, eh?" went on the farmer. "Well, I
don't blame you, for it isn't much fun to stay cooped up in a pen all
the while. But still I can't have you out. But I'll give you a nice lot
of pig weed, just the same, for you must be hungry."

Then the farmer pulled up some more of the green stuff, and tossed it
into the pen. He also gave them plenty of sour milk, which pigs like
better than sweet milk. Besides, it is cheaper.

"Well, I guess you won't run away again," the farmer went on, as he
nailed back on the pen the board which Squinty had pushed off. Perhaps
the farmer thought one of the big pigs--the papa or mamma one--had made
the hole for the others to get out. I am sure he never thought little
Squinty, with his comical eye, did it. But we know Squinty did, don't
we?

For some time after this Squinty was a very-good pig, indeed. Not that I