the pig pen. The pigs could tell, by the talk of the children, that they
were brother and sisters. And they had come to the farm to spend their
summer vacation, when there was no school.

"That's the pig I am going to take home with me," the boy would say to
his sisters, pointing to Squinty.

"How can you tell which one is yours?" asked one of the little girls.

"I can tell by his funny squint," the boy would answer. "He always makes
me want to laugh."

"Well, I am glad I am of some use in this world," thought Squinty, who
could understand nearly all that the boy and his sisters said. "It is
something just to be jolly."

"I wouldn't want a pig," said the other girl. "They grunt and squeal and
are not clean. I'd rather have a rabbit."

"Pigs are so clean!" cried the boy. "Squinty is as clean as a rabbit!"

Only that day Squinty had rolled over and over in the mud, but he had
had a bath from the hose, so he was clean now. And he made up his mind
that if the boy took him he would never again get in the mud and become
covered with dirt.

"I will keep myself clean and jolly," thought Squinty.

A few days after this Squinty heard the noise of hammering and sawing
wood outside the pig pen.