little later, when he saw through the slats, that he was being carried
toward a large, white house, he was given a tin of water to drink.

"I'll just leave him in that box until I can fix a larger one for him,"
the boy said, and then, for a while, Squinty was left all to himself.
But he was still in the box, though the box was set in a shady place on
the back porch.

All this while Mr. Pig and Mrs. Pig, as well as the brother and sister
pigs, in the pen at home, were wondering what had happened to Squinty.

"Where do you think he is now, Mamma?" Wuff-Wuff would ask.

"Oh, I don't know," Mrs. Pig answered.

"And will he ever come back to us?" asked Twisty Tail.

"Perhaps, some day. I hope so," said Mrs. Pig, sort of sighing.

"Oh, yes, I think he will," said Mr. Pig. "When he gets quite large the
boy will get tired of having him for a pet, and perhaps bring him back."

"Were you ever carried off that way, Papa?" asked Grunter, as he rubbed
his back, where a mosquito had bitten him, against the side of the pen.

"Oh, yes, once," answered Mr. Pig. "I was taken away from my pen, when I
was pretty large, and given to a little girl for a pet. But she did not
keep me long. I guess she would rather have had her dolls, so I was soon
brought back to my pen. And I was glad of it."