The Tale of Pigling Bland Page #3

"The Tale of Pigling Bland" is a children's book by Beatrix Potter that tells the story of Pigling Bland, a pig who is forced to leave home and go to market due to a shortage of food. On his journey, he encounters many adventures including a run in with a farmer and his wife, as well as meeting a dance-loving pig named Pig-wig. The tale is a wonderful combination of suspense, humor, and enchanting characters, encapsulating Beatri's distinctive skill in storytelling.

• Children

								

Pigling Bland.

Pig-wig looked anxious.

"Do you know your way by day-
light?"

"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! and they wouldn't
     say wee, wee, wee!
 "For somehow they couldn't say--

Pig-wig's head bobbed lower and
lower, until she rolled over, a little
round ball, fast asleep on the
hearth-rug.

Pigling Bland, on tiptoe, covered
her up with an antimacassar.

He was afraid to go to sleep himself;
for the rest of the night he sat
listening to the chirping of the
crickets and to the snores of Mr.
Piperson overhead.

Early in the morning, between
dark and daylight, Pigling tied up
his little bundle and woke up Pig-
wig. She was excited and half-
frightened. "But it's dark! How can
we find our way?"

"The cock has crowed; we must
start before the hens come out; they
might shout to Mr. Piperson."

Pig-wig sat down again, and
commenced to cry.

"Come away Pig-wig; we can see
when we get used to it. Come! I can
hear them clucking!"

Pigling had never said shuh! to a
hen in his life, being peaceable;
also he remembered the hamper.

He opened the house door quietly
and shut it after them. There was
no garden; the neighborhood of
Mr. Piperson's was all scratched up
by fowls. They slipped away hand
in hand across an untidy field to
the road.
 "Tom, Tom the piper's son, stole a pig
     and away he ran!
 "But all the tune that he could play, was
     `Over the hills and far away!'"

"Come Pig-wig, we must get to
the bridge before folks are stirring."

"Why do you want to go to
market, Pigling?" inquired Pig-wig.

The sun rose while they were
crossing the moor, a dazzle of light
over the tops of the hills. The sunshine
crept down the slopes into
the peaceful green valleys, where
little white cottages nestled in
gardens and orchards.

"That's Westmorland," said Pig-
wig. She dropped Pigling's hand
and commenced to dance, singing--
presently. "I don't want; I want to
grow potatoes." "Have a peppermint?"
said Pig-wig. Pigling Bland
refused quite crossly. "Does your
poor toothy hurt?" inquired Pig-
wig. Pigling Bland grunted.

Pig-wig ate the peppermint herself,
and followed the opposite side
of the road. "Pig-wig! keep under
the wall, there's a man ploughing."
Pig-wig crossed over, they hurried
down hill towards the county
boundary.

Suddenly Pigling stopped; he
heard wheels.

Slowly jogging up the road below
them came a tradesman's cart. The
reins flapped on the horse's back,
the grocer was reading a newspaper.

"Take that peppermint out of
your mouth, Pig-wig, we may have
to run. Don't say one word. Leave it
to me. And in sight of the bridge!"
said poor Pigling, nearly crying.
He began to walk frightfully lame,
holding Pig-wig's arm.

The grocer, intent upon his
newspaper, might have passed
them, if his horse had not shied
and snorted. He pulled the cart
crossways, and held down his
whip. "Hallo? Where are you going
to?"--Pigling Bland stared at him
vacantly.

"Are you deaf? Are you going to
market?" Pigling nodded slowly.

"I thought as much. It was
yesterday. Show me your license?"

Pigling stared at the off hind
shoe of the grocer's horse which
had picked up a stone.

The grocer flicked his whip--
"Papers? Pig license?" Pigling fumbled
in all his pockets, and handed
up the papers. The grocer read
them, but still seemed dissatisfied.
"This here pig is a young lady; is
her name Alexander?" Pig-wig
opened her mouth and shut it
again; Pigling coughed asthmatically.

The grocer ran his finger down
the advertisement column of his
newspaper--"Lost, stolen or
strayed, 10S. reward;" he looked
suspiciously at Pig-wig. Then he
stood up in the trap, and whistled
for the ploughman.

"You wait here while I drive on
and speak to him," said the grocer,
gathering up the reins. He knew
that pigs are slippery; but surely,
such a VERY lame pig could never
run!

"Not yet, Pig-wig, he will look
back." The grocer did so; he saw the
two pigs stock-still in the middle
of the road. Then he looked over at
his horse's heels; it was lame also;
the stone took some time to knock
out, after he got to the ploughman.

"Now, Pig-wig, NOW!" said
Pigling Bland.

Never did any pigs run as these
pigs ran! They raced and squealed
and pelted down the long white hill
towards the bridge. Little fat Pig-
wig's petticoats fluttered, and her
feet went pitter, patter, pitter, as
she bounded and jumped.

They ran, and they ran, and they
ran down the hill, and across a
short cut on level green turf at the
bottom, between pebble beds and
rushes.

They came to the river, they
came to the bridge--they crossed it
hand in hand--then over the hills
and far away she danced with Pigling
Bland!
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