made up his mind to run away. Often horses run
away, so I don't see why pigs can't, also. Anyhow, that was what Squinty
intended to do.

But, for nearly a week after his first adventure in the garden, Squinty
had no chance to slip out of the pen. All the boards seemed very tight.

Then, one day, it was very hot. The sun shone brightly.

"Dig holes for yourselves in the cool ground, and lie down in them,"
said Mrs. Pig. "That will cool you off."

Each little pig dug a hole for himself, just as a hen does when she
wants to take a dust bath. Squinty dug his hole near the lower edge of
the boards, on one side of the pen.

"I'll make a big hole," he thought to himself.

And, as Squinty dug down, he noticed that he could see under the bottom
of the boards. He could look right out into the garden.

"That is very queer," thought the little pig boy. "I believe I can get
out of the pen by crawling under a board, as well as by pushing one
loose from the side. I'll try it." Squinty was learning things, you see.

So he dug the hole deeper and deeper, and soon it was large enough for
him to slip under the bottom board.

"Now I can run away," he grunted softly to himself. He looked all around
the pen. His father, mother, sisters and brothers were fast asleep in
their cool holes of earth.

"I'm going!" said Squinty, and the next moment he had slipped under the
side of the pen, through the hole he had dug, and once more he was out
in the garden.

"Now for some adventures!" said Squinty, in a jolly whisper--a pig's
whisper, you know.

CHAPTER III

SQUINTY IS LOST

This was the second time Squinty had run out of the pen and into the
farmer's garden. The first time he had been caught and brought back by
Don, the dog. This time Squinty did not intend to get caught, if he
could help it.

So, after crawling out through the hole under the pen, the little pig
came to a stop, and looked carefully on all sides of him. His one little
squinty eye was opened as wide as it would open, and the other eye was
opened still wider. Squinty wanted to see all there was to be seen.

He cocked one ear up in front of him, to listen to any sounds that might
come from that direction, and the other ear he drooped over toward his
back, to hear any noises that might come from behind him.

What Squinty was especially listening for was the barking of Don, the
dog.

"For," thought Squinty, "I don't want Don to catch me again, and make me