"Say, he's a cute one all right," said the first man. "Let's take him
along."

"What for?" asked his friend. "We'd only have to toss out as much sand
as he weighs so we could go up."

"Oh, let's take him along, anyhow," insisted the other. "Maybe he'll be
a mascot for us."

"Well, if he's a mascot, all right. Then we'll take him. We need some
good luck on this trip."

Squinty did not know what a mascot was. Perhaps he thought it was
something good to eat. But I might say that a mascot is something which
some persons think brings them good luck. Often baseball nines, or
football elevens, will have a small boy, or a goat, or a dog whom they
call their mascot. They take him along whenever they play games,
thinking the mascot helps them to win. Of course it really does not, but
there is no harm in a mascot, anyhow.

"Yes, we'll take him along in the balloon with us," said the taller of
the two men. "See, he doesn't seem to be a bit afraid."

"No, and look! He must be a trick pig! Maybe he got away from some
circus!" cried the other man. For, at that moment Squinty stood up on
his hind legs, as the boy had taught him, and walked over toward the big
balloon basket. What he really wanted was something to eat, but the men
did not know that.

"He surely is a cute little pig!" cried the tall man. "I'll lift him in.