"All right," agreed Curly, "only I hope a bear doesn't happen. It's
no fun to think you're going to be turned into roast pork and eaten
with apple sauce," for that is what the bear was going to do, you
know.

So off the two little pig brothers started, and their mamma called
after them:

"Now, stay together. Don't go one on one path, and one on another,
as you did before, and have trouble. Stay together, and help one
another."

"We will!" they answered, and really they meant to, but, you see,
little pigs sometimes forget, just as real children do.

On they went together. Curly and his brother who hadn't any name,
except that sometimes people called him "Bub," or maybe "Son," or
even "Hey, Johnnie!" though that wasn't his real name at all.

Pretty soon, in about as long as it takes to eat a lollypop if you
don't hurry to get down to the stick part of it--pretty soon the two
piggie boys met Grandfather Squealer, who was the grandpapa of all
the pigs in that part of the country.

"Oh, ho!" exclaimed the old gentleman pig, "Oh, ho! How are you
today, Curly?"

"Very well, sir, thank you," replied the pig boy politely, and he
looked around to see if the curly kink had come out of his tail