"I know we can see this little white house from the hills across the river. Which way are YOU going, Mr. Pig?"
"To market--I have two pig papers. I might take you to the bridge; if you have no objection," said Pigling much confused and sitting on the edge of his coppy stool. Pig-wig's gratitude was such and she asked so many questions that it became embarrassing to Pigling Bland.
He was obliged to shut his eyes and pretend to sleep. She became quiet, and there was a smell of peppermint.
"I thought you had eaten them," said Pigling, waking suddenly.
"Only the corners," replied Pig- wig, studying the sentiments with much interest by the firelight.
"I wish you wouldn't; he might smell them through the ceiling," said the alarmed Pigling.
Pig-wig put back the sticky peppermints into her pocket; "Sing something," she demanded.
"I am sorry . . . I have tooth- ache," said Pigling much dismayed.
"Then I will sing," replied Pig-wig. "You will not mind if I say iddy tidditty? I have forgotten some of the words."
Pigling Bland made no objection; he sat with his eyes half shut, and watched her.
She wagged her head and rocked about, clapping time and singing in a sweet little grunty voice--
"A funny old mother pig lived in a stye, and three little piggies had she; "(Ti idditty idditty) umph, umph, umph! and the little pigs said, wee, wee!"
She sang successfully through three or four verses, only at every verse her head nodded a little lower, and her little twinkly eyes closed up.
"Those three little piggies grew peaky and lean, and lean they might very well be; "For somehow they couldn't say umph, umph, umph!