Nothing did for some time, and, when it did it was so strange that
Squinty never forgot it as long as he lived. I'll tell you all about it.

He walked on through the woods, Squinty did, and, before very long, he
found some acorns. He ate as many as he wanted and then, as he always
felt sleepy after he had eaten, he thought he would lie down and have a
nap.

He found a place, near a big stump, where there was a soft bed of dried
leaves, nearly as nice as his straw bed in the pen at home. On this he
stretched out, and soon he was fast asleep.

When Squinty awoke it was real dark. He jumped up with a little grunt,
and said to himself:

"Well, I did not mean to stay away from my pen so long. I guess I had
better go back."

Squinty started to go back the way he had come, but I guess you can
imagine what happened. It was so dark he could not find the path. He
walked about, stumbling over sticks and stones and stumps, sometimes
falling down on soft moss, and again on the hard ground. Finally Squinty
thought:

"Well, it is of no use. I can't get back tonight, that is sure. I shall
have to stay here. Oh dear! I hope there are no dogs to bite me!"

Squinty listened carefully. He could hear no barks. He hunted around in
the dark until he found another soft bed of leaves, and on that he