Then Squinty, or his brothers or sisters, would root up the hidden pig
weed, and the old pigs would go to sleep again, for they did not need to
practice digging, having done so when they were young. About all they
did was to eat and sleep, and tell the little pigs how to behave.

"Squinty, how is your ear that Don, the dog, bit?" asked Mrs. Pig of her
little boy pig one day.

"Oh, it doesn't hurt me," answered Squinty. "Don did not bite very hard.
He only wanted to catch me."

"Yes, Don is a good dog," said Mrs. Pig. "But you must be careful of
other dogs, Squinty."

"Why, are not all dogs alike?" the little pig boy asked.

"Oh, no, indeed!" answered Mrs. Pig. "Some of them are very bad and
savage. They would bite you very hard if they got the chance. So,
whenever you see any dog, except Don, running toward you, run away as
fast as you can."

"I will," promised Squinty. And he did not know how soon he would be
glad to remember his mother's good advice.

For some days nothing much happened in the pig pen. Once or twice
Squinty pushed his nose against the board the farmer had nailed on, but
it was very tight, he found, and he could not push it off.

"Are you trying to get out again?" asked Wuff-Wuff.