Each little pig dug a hole for himself, just as a hen does when she
wants to take a dust bath. Squinty dug his hole near the lower edge of
the boards, on one side of the pen.

"I'll make a big hole," he thought to himself.

And, as Squinty dug down, he noticed that he could see under the bottom
of the boards. He could look right out into the garden.

"That is very queer," thought the little pig boy. "I believe I can get
out of the pen by crawling under a board, as well as by pushing one
loose from the side. I'll try it." Squinty was learning things, you see.

So he dug the hole deeper and deeper, and soon it was large enough for
him to slip under the bottom board.

"Now I can run away," he grunted softly to himself. He looked all around
the pen. His father, mother, sisters and brothers were fast asleep in
their cool holes of earth.

"I'm going!" said Squinty, and the next moment he had slipped under the
side of the pen, through the hole he had dug, and once more he was out
in the garden.

"Now for some adventures!" said Squinty, in a jolly whisper--a pig's
whisper, you know.