Chapter 1

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THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG

_SLUMBER-TOWN TALES_ (Trademark Registered)

BY ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

AUTHOR OF

_SLEEPY-TIME TALES_ (Trademark Registered)

_TUCK-ME-IN TALES_ (Trademark Registered)

THE TALE OF THE MULEY COW

THE TALE OF OLD DOG SPOT

THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG

THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN

THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT

THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS

THE TALE OF MISS KITTY CAT

SLUMBER-TOWN TALES (Trademark Registered)

THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG

BY ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

Author of "SLEEPY-TIME TALES" (Trademark Registered)

AND

"TUCK-ME-IN TALES" (Trademark Registered)

ILLUSTRATED BY HARRY L. SMITH

NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I THE RUNT 1

II A NEW WAY TO EAT 5

III THE LOOSE BOARD 10

IV THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD 14

V SIXES AND SEVENS 19

VI MR. CROW HELPS 23

VII THE GRUMBLER 28

VIII FEARFUL NEWS 33

IX A GREAT ADVENTURE 38

X A QUEER BEAR 43

XI LOCKED OUT 47

XII WOOF! 51

XIII HOME AT LAST 55

XIV AN ODD THOUGHT 60

XV GRUNTY MEANS MISCHIEF 65

XVI DANGER AHEAD 70

XVII A PUZZLE SOLVED 74

XVIII THE LUCKIEST OF ALL 79

XIX DOG SPOT'S PLAN 83

XX A NEW KIND OF PIG 88

XXI BEECHNUTS 94

XXII JASPER JAY OBJECTS 98

XXIII MOSES MOUSE'S WAY 104

XXIV A PIG IN THE PARLOR 109

ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

GRUNTY PIG IS SCOLDED BY HENRIETTA HEN Frontispiece

THE MULEY COW ADVISES GRUNTY PIG TO GO HOME 32

"ALWAYS MIND YOUR MOTHER," SAID MRS. PIG 64

GRUNTY PIG STUCK FAST IN THE FENCE 80

THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG

I

THE RUNT

He was the smallest of seven children. At first his mother thought she would call him "Runty." But she soon changed her mind about that; for she discovered that even if he was the runt of the family, he had the loudest grunt of all. So the good lady made haste to slip a G in front of the name "Runty."

"There!" she exclaimed. "'Grunty' is a name that you ought to be proud of. It calls attention to your best point. And if you keep on making as much noise in the world as you do now, maybe people won't notice that you're a bit undersized. You certainly sound as big as any little shote I ever saw or heard."

So that was settled--though Grunty Pig didn't care one way or another. He seemed to be interested in nothing but food. There is no doubt that he would have been willing to change his name a dozen times a day for the slight bribe of a drink of warm milk.

His mother sometimes said that he had the biggest appetite--as well as the loudest grunt--of all her seven children. And she was glad that he ate well, because food was the very thing that would make him grow.

"You won't always be runty, Grunty, if you eat a plenty," Mrs. Pig often told him. And then he would grunt, as if to say, "You don't need to urge me. Just give me a chance!"

Grunty Pig soon learned that being the smallest of the family had one sad drawback. His brothers and sisters (all bigger than he!) could crowd him away from the feeding trough. And they not only _could_; but they often _did_. Unless Grunty reached the trough among the first, there was never a place left where he could squirm in. If he tried to eat at one end of the trough he was sure to be shouldered away and go hungry.

So whenever he did succeed in getting the first taste of a meal he took pains to plant himself in the exact middle of the trough. Then there would be three other youngsters on each side of him, all crowding towards him. And though he found it a bit hard to breathe under such a squeezing, at least he got his share of the food.

Poor Mrs. Pig! Her children had frightful manners. Though she talked and talked to them about not crowding, and about eating slowly, and about eating noiselessly, the moment their food was poured into their trough they forgot everything their mother had said.

That is, all but Grunty Pig! If he happened to be left out in the cold, so to speak, and had to stand and look on while his brothers and sister stuffed themselves, he couldn't help remembering his mother's remarks about manners.

"It's awful to watch them!" he would gurgle. "I don't see how they can be so boorish." He thought there was no sadder sight than his six brothers and sisters jostling one another over their food, while he couldn't find a place to push in among them.

II

A NEW WAY TO EAT

One thing, especially, distressed Mrs. Pig. Her children _would_ put their fore feet right into the trough when they ate their meals out of it. Nothing she said to them made the slightest difference. Even when she told them that they were little pigs they didn't seem to care.

"We're all bigger than Grunty is," said one of her sons--a bouncing black youngster who was the most unruly of the litter.

"You're all greedy," Mrs. Pig retorted. "Do try to restrain yourselves when you eat. Remember--there's plenty of time."

"But there's not always plenty of food," Grunty Pig told his mother. "Sometimes there isn't any left for me."

"I know," said Mrs. Pig. "I know that your brothers and sisters eat your share whenever they can. Farmer Green furnishes enough food for you all. And if you children didn't forget your manners everybody would get his share--no more and no less."

Now, Mrs. Pig was not the only one that noticed how piggish her youngsters were at the trough. One day Farmer Green himself remarked to his son Johnnie, as they leaned over the pen, that that litter of pigs did beat all he had ever seen.

"They come a-running at meal time as if they were half starved. It's a wonder they don't get in the trough all over."

Johnnie Green liked to watch the pigs.

"That black fellow's the greediest of the lot," he declared. "He's getting to be the biggest. He's almost twice the size of the little runt."

"The runt doesn't get his share," said Farmer Green. "We'll have to do something to help him, or he'll never be worth his salt."

Grunty Pig looked up at Farmer Green and gave a plaintive squeal, as if to say, "Hurry, please! Because I'm always hungry."

And Blackie, his greedy brother, looked up at Farmer Green too. He said nothing. But his little eyes twinkled slyly. And afterward he told his brothers and sisters that Farmer Green needn't think he could keep _him_ from drinking all the skim milk he pleased.

"If Mother can't make me behave, surely Farmer Green won't be able to," he boasted.

Of course Blackie Pig was very young. Otherwise he would never have made such a silly remark. And he soon learned that Farmer Green was more than a match for him.

The next day Farmer Green made a long lid that dropped over the feeding trough and covered it completely. And in the lid he cut seven holes--one for each of Mrs. Pig's children.

There was no more jostling at meal time. There was a place for everybody. And Mrs. Pig was delighted with the improvement. When Farmer Green filled the trough, each of the children stuck his head through a hole and ate in the most orderly fashion. To be sure, there was some squealing and grunting, and some snuffling and blowing. But it seemed to Mrs. Pig that no youngsters could have behaved more beautifully.

And Grunty liked the new way of eating, too. But Blackie made a great fuss. He complained because he couldn't stick his nose through two holes at the same time!

III

THE LOOSE BOARD

After Farmer Green put the lid with the holes in it over the top of the feeding trough, Grunty Pig began to grow. At last he was getting as much to eat as his brothers and sisters. And the bigger he grew, the more food he wanted. He was always on the watch for some extra tidbit--always rooting about to find some dainty that others had overlooked. Many a delicious piece of carrot, or turnip, or potato-paring rewarded him for his eager searching.

Still, Grunty Pig was far from satisfied. He had a great longing to get outside the pen where he lived with the rest of Mrs. Pig's seven children.

"Out in the wide world there must be many good things to eat," he thought. "I'd like to find the place where the potato-parings grow."

But of all this, Grunty Pig said nothing to anyone. If the chance ever came to slip out of the pen, he intended to take nobody with him. He had not yet caught up with his brothers and sisters in size, even if he had outstripped them in the matter of brains. And he feared that any one of them would crowd him away from the good things that he meant to find beyond the walls of the pigsty.

Little did Mrs. Pig dream what plans filled the head of her son Grunty. When she saw him sniffing around the walls of the pen she never once guessed that he could be looking for anything except something to eat. How could she know that Grunty--the littlest of the family--was searching for a place to escape?

Now, it happened that there was one loose board in a corner of the pigpen. The nails that once held it had rusted away. Nobody but Grunty Pig had discovered that by pressing against an end of this board one could bend it outward.

It was too bad--for him--that he had grown so rapidly. Had he been just a bit smaller he could have squeezed through the opening.

Here Grunty met the first real problem of his life. For some days he puzzled over it. One thing was certain: he couldn't make himself smaller, unless he stopped eating. And that was out of the question. In the end he made up his mind that there was only one thing to do: he must make the opening bigger.

Day after day Grunty Pig crowded against the loose board. And at last came his reward. Two more rusty nails gave way all at once. Under Grunty's weight the board opened wide. And as he slipped through the space, to freedom, the board snapped back into place again.

There he was, with the wide world before him. And there was the pen, with no opening anywhere to be seen.

With a grunt of delight Grunty Pig trotted out of the low building and found himself on the edge of Farmer Green's orchard.

He noticed that there was a fragrant smell of apples in the air.

IV

THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD

It was the first time Grunty Pig had ever been outside his pen. And since he didn't know how long it would be before Farmer Green found him and took him back home, he decided that he had better make the most of his outing while it lasted.

Hurrying into the orchard, Grunty ate heartily of the fruit that lay upon the ground. After he had devoured a few dozen apples he began to lose his appetite for that sort of food. So he started to root beneath the trees. It was fun to dig. Besides, he found a good many tender roots that tickled his taste. They were different from anything he had ever eaten before.

After a while Grunty Pig learned something. He had always supposed that he could go on eating forever, if he were only lucky enough to have the chance. But to his surprise he found that there was a limit to the amount he could consume with comfort. He began to have a _tight_ feeling about his waistband. At first he dared hope it would go away. But the more he ate, the worse he felt. And at last he gave a grunt of disappointment.

"I can't eat any more," he whined. "Here's a whole world full of food just going to waste. And I can't even hold one half of it!"

Still, there were other pleasures to be had besides eating. Grunty crawled through the fence into the lane. And near the barn, where the cows had trampled, he beheld such beautiful, sticky, deep mud as he had never dreamed could be found anywhere.

Grunty Pig gave a deep sigh of happiness as he wallowed in the mire. He lay on his stomach, he turned upon each side. He even squirmed through a puddle and rolled over in it, so that there wasn't a clean patch on him, anywhere. Little did he care that his silvery bristles were smeared with black. The mud felt delightfully cool upon his piggy, pinkish skin.

"This is almost better than eating," Grunty squealed.

At last his gurgles and grunts attracted the notice of a proud creature known as Henrietta Hen. She had been scratching for worms in the farmyard. And now she came running around a corner of the barn and peered through the fence at Grunty.

"You careless child!" she squawked. "Stop playing in that mud! Don't you know that it's very dangerous to get your feet wet?"

Grunty Pig stood up and looked at her.

"Goodness! You're a sight!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. "Does your mother know you're here?"

Now, Grunty Pig didn't answer a single one of Henrietta's questions. He merely stared at her and said nothing. So it was no wonder that she thought him stupid.

"Poor Mrs. Pig!" thought Henrietta Hen. "It's bad enough to have a child so untidy as this youngster. But it's far worse to have a dull-witted one."

Then to Grunty she said sharply, "You'd better get out of that mudhole and go dry yourself in the sun."

He actually obeyed her. And as soon as Henrietta Hen saw that he was sunning himself she walked out of sight around the barn, stopping now and then to pick up some tidbit or other.

"Good!" Grunty Pig grunted. "She's gone. This was the easiest way to get rid of her."

V

SIXES AND SEVENS

Not until feeding time came did anyone discover that Grunty Pig was gone from the pen. It may seem strange that neither his mother nor any of his brothers and sisters missed him. But when there are seven children in a family it is no wonder that one of them could slip away without having his absence noticed. It is specially easy, in such a large family, to overlook the littlest.

If Mrs. Pig had known there was a loose board on the pen she would certainly have counted noses to find out whether her children were all safe at home. But nobody knew about that loose board except Grunty himself.

It was lucky that Farmer Green had made the lid for Mrs. Pig's children's feeding trough--the lid with the seven holes in it. When he poured the children's supper into the trough and slammed down the lid he stood and watched Mrs. Pig's youngsters as they scrambled to the trough and stuck--each of them--a nose into a hole.

All at once Farmer Green noticed something queer. "Hullo!" he cried to his son Johnnie. "There's an empty hole here. We've lost a pig!"

He looked closely at the row of six squirming bunches of squeals.

"I declare!" said Farmer Green. "It's the runt that's gone."

Mrs. Pig, who was enjoying her own supper a little way off, did not hear what Farmer Green said. Her children were making a good deal of noise. And to tell the truth, Mrs. Pig herself wasn't exactly a silent eater. When Farmer Green jumped into the pen and began to poke at the sides of it she wondered what he was doing. Soon he found the loose board and pushed against it with his foot, exclaiming, "Here's where he got away! Who'd have thought that the runt was the smartest of the family?

"Run and get me a hammer and a few nails," said Farmer Green to his son Johnnie. "We must fix this pen before any more of the pigs crawl out."

Well, when she heard the news Mrs. Pig nearly choked over a bit of something or other that she was eating. Grunty was gone! If she hadn't spent most of the afternoon dozing perhaps she would have missed him. And poor Mrs. Pig began to reproach herself for what wasn't really her fault at all.

"I hope you'll find him," she told Farmer Green as he drove a nail into the loose board. "I hope you won't leave my son out to-night. There's no knowing what might happen to a child of his tender years."

Maybe Farmer Green heard her request. Anyhow, as he handed the hammer to Johnnie he said, "Come and help me, after you put the hammer back. We'll have to find that pig. If a bear happened to come down from the mountain to-night he'd treat himself to a feast. That runt would make a nice, tender meal."

Mrs. Pig must certainly have heard--and understood--Farmer Green's remark. For she gave a loud squeal of alarm.

"Hurry!" she begged him. "Please, Mr. Green, do find Grunty before dark!"

VI

MR. CROW HELPS

It was a wonder that Johnnie Green and his father ever found Grunty Pig.

Soon after Henrietta Hen left him, Grunty crept out of the lane and wandered into the cornfield. He had an idea that Henrietta might go and tell his mother that she had seen him wallowing in the mud behind the barn. And he did not want to be dragged back to the pigpen.

Grunty had no way of knowing that Henrietta Hen forgot all about him before she had crossed the farmyard. She fell into a loud dispute with a neighbor. And she never thought of Grunty again.

Grunty Pig enjoyed his ramble into the field of waving corn. The corn was sweet; and the dirt was loose--just the finest sort to root in that a body could possibly want. He had the place all to himself until at last a black gentleman came flying up in a great hurry and ordered him in a hoarse voice to "get out of the corn--and be quick about it!"

On him Grunty Pig tried the same trick that he had used on Henrietta Hen. He looked up with a stupid stare at the newcomer and said never a word.

Old Mr. Crow--for it was he that had commanded Grunty to leave--old Mr. Crow abused him roundly. Mr. Crow was not empty-headed, like Henrietta Hen. He was not to be deceived so easily.

"Why don't you answer me?" he bawled. "You make noise enough when you're at home. I've heard you often, way across the cornfield." Mr. Crow cawed so angrily that a dozen of his cronies flew over from the woods to see what was going on. And the whole thirteen made such an uproar that Farmer Green couldn't help noticing them. He and Johnnie were in the orchard, hunting for Grunty Pig.

"Those crows are up to some mischief," Farmer Green declared. "You don't suppose--do you?--that they're teasing that pig?"

Well, Johnnie Green was willing to go and find out. And sure enough! he found Grunty in the cornfield.

Johnnie Green picked him up, tucked him under his arm--plastered with dried mud as he was--and brought him in triumph to the barn.

Farmer Green laughed when he saw Grunty Pig.

"He looks as if he had been enjoying himself," he remarked as he dropped Grunty into the pen with the rest of Mrs. Pig's children.

"Are you going to feed him?" Johnnie Green inquired.

Again his father laughed.

"No!" he replied. "That pig has stuffed himself so full he can scarcely waddle."

As for Mrs. Pig, she didn't know whether to laugh or to weep. She was glad to have Grunty safe at home again; but he was a sad sight.

At first Mrs. Pig thought Farmer Green had made a mistake. She thought he had found somebody else's child. For Grunty was so daubed with black mud that she actually didn't know him until she heard him grunt. "Where have you been?" she asked him in her sternest voice.

"I've been out in the world," he answered. "And I've had a fine time."

"It's easy to see," said Mrs. Pig, "that you're a born wallower. It's a pity that you haven't your brother Blackie's complexion. The dirt does show so dreadfully on silver bristles!"

VII

THE GRUMBLER

All the farmyard folk agreed that Farmer Green took the best of care of everybody. Mrs. Pig often told her children that they were lucky to have so good a home. And not having lived anywhere else, they never imagined that anything could be finer than their pen.

After the day when he escaped from the pen, however, Grunty Pig began to complain. He wasn't satisfied with the food that Farmer Green gave him, he grumbled because there was no good place to wallow in mud, and especially did he object because there wasn't a tree to rub against. "The orchard," he often said, "is a much pleasanter place than this pen is. There are trees enough in the orchard for every member of our family to rub against--all at the same time."

Somehow, when Grunty talked in that fashion every one of Mrs. Pig's children began to crowd against the sides of the pen. And even Mrs. Pig herself felt an annoying tickling along her back. She did wish that Grunty wouldn't mention such matters.

But nothing Mrs. Pig could say seemed to do any good. He was always prattling, anyhow. She could no more stop his flow of grunts and squeals than she could have kept the water in the brook from babbling down the mountainside to Swift River.

And even more annoying to Mrs. Pig was the way her son Grunty tried to rub his back against _her_. She said "Don't!" to him so often that she became heartily sick of the word.

What bothered Mrs. Pig most of all was Grunty's behavior whenever Farmer Green came to the pen. It was mortifying to her to have her son actually try to _scratch his back_ against her in the presence of a visitor.

"I do hope," said Mrs. Pig to Farmer Green, "I do hope you don't think that I haven't tried to teach this child better manners." And then, when all the rest of her family began to squirm and fidget against the sides of the pen she added with a sigh, "Look at them! Anyone would suppose they had had no bringing up at all!"

Farmer Green smiled as he leaned over the pen and watched the antics of Grunty Pig and his brothers and sisters.

"There's something that I can do for your family to make them happier," he told Mrs. Pig. "To-morrow--if I can spare the time--I'll make a change here. A lady who's raising such a fine family as yours deserves the best there is. She ought to have a home with every modern improvement."

"There!" Mrs. Pig exclaimed to her children as soon as Farmer Green left them. "Did you hear what he said? Farmer Green is a kind man. I shouldn't have blamed him if he had put us into the poorest pen on the place, after seeing your unmannerly actions. You'll have to behave better--especially after we have our new improvements."

Well, the next day Farmer Green brought a stout post and set it firmly in the center of Mrs. Pig's pen.

"That's for you and your family to rub against," he informed Mrs. Pig.

Really, he needn't have explained what the improvement was for. No sooner had he climbed out of the pen than Mrs. Pig and her children began to put the rubbing post to good use. Grunty was the first of all to try it. And to his mother's delight, he stopped grumbling at once. Nor did he ever again disgrace her by scratching his back against her. Instead, he always walked up to the rubbing post like a little gentleman. At least, that was what Mrs. Pig said.

VIII

FEARFUL NEWS

There came a day at last when Farmer Green gave Mrs. Pig and her family a great treat. He let them out of their pen and turned them loose in a little yard out of doors. Such gruntings and squealings hadn't been heard on the farm for a long time. It was just like a picnic. And everybody had the finest of times. Still, Grunty Pig wasn't content to stay in the yard with the rest of the family. It wasn't long before he found a hole in the fence big enough to wriggle through. And off he went. And he was actually glad, for once, that he was the littlest of the family. There wasn't another of Mrs. Pig's children that could squeeze through the opening.

Grunty Pig trotted the whole length of the lane. When he reached the pasture he found himself face to face with the Muley Cow, who acted much surprised to see him there.

"You'd better go back home at once," she advised him. "There are bears on Blue Mountain. Sometimes they come down this way. Only last week I had an adventure with one in the back pasture." She did not tell Grunty that she had run away from Cuffy Bear, down the hillside. "A bear," said the Muley Cow, "would be delighted to meet a tender little pig like you."