its ground, in a strange place, confronted with strange animals. How different from the silly sheep, who at the mere sight of a dog would run aimlessly about, crying "Wolf! Wolf!" in their empty-headed way.
"Hullo," she said. "Who are you?"
"I'm a Large White," said the piglet.
"Blimey!" said one of the puppies. "If that's a large white, what's a small one like?" And they all four sniggered.
"Be quiet!" snapped Fly. "Just remember that five minutes ago you didn't even know what a pig was." And to the piglet she said kindly, "I expect that's your breed, dear. I meant, what's your name?"
"I don't know," said the piglet.
"Well, what did your mother call you, to tell you apart from your brothers and sisters?" said Fly and then wished she hadn't, for at the mention of his family the piglet began to look distinctly unhappy. His little forehead wrinkled and he gulped and his voice trembled as he answered.
"She called us all the same."
"And what was that, dear?"
"Babe," said the piglet, and the puppies began to giggle until their mother silenced them with a growl.
"But that's a lovely name," she said. "Would you like us to call you that? It'll make you feel more at home."
At this last word the little pig's face fell even further.
"I want my mum," he said very quietly.
At that instant the collie bitch made up her mind that she would foster this unhappy child.
"Go out into the yard and play," she said to the puppies, and she climbed to the top of the straw stack and jumped over the rail and down into the loose-box beside the piglet.
"Listen, Babe," she said. "You've got to be a brave boy. Everyone has to leave their mother, it's all part of growing up. I did so, when I was your age, and my puppies will have to leave me quite soon. But I'll look after you. If you like." Then she licked his little snout with a warm rough tongue, her plumed tail wagging.
"There. Is that nice?" she said.
A little while later, Farmer Hogget came into the stables with his wife, to show her his prize. They looked over the loose-box door and saw, to their astonishment, Fly curled round the piglet. Exhausted by the drama of the day, he lay fast asleep against his new-found foster-parent.
"Well, will you look at that!" said Mrs Hogget. "That old Fly, she'll mother anything, kittens, ducklings, baby chicks, she's looked after all of they, now 'tis a pig, in't he lovely, what a picture, good job he don't know where he'll finish up, but he'll be big then and we'll be glad to see the back of him, or the hams of him, I should say, shan't us, wonder how I shall get it all in the freezer?"
"Pity. Really," said Farmer Hogget absently.
Mrs Hogget went back to her kitchen, shaking her head all the way across the yard at the thought of her husband's soft-heartedness.
The farmer opened the loose-box door, and to save the effort of a word, clicked his fingers to call the bitch out.
As soon as Fly moved the piglet woke and followed her, sticking so close to her that his snout touched her tail-tip. Surprise forced Farmer Hogget into speech.
"Fly!" he said in amazement. Obediently, as always, the collie bitch turned and trotted back to him. The pig trotted behind her.
"Sit!" said Farmer Hogget. Fly sat. Babe sat. Farmer Hogget scratched his head. He could not think of anything to say.
Chapter 3
"Why can't I learn?"
By dark it was plain to Farmer Hogget that, whether he liked it or not, Fly had not four, but five children.
All the long summer evening Babe had followed Fly about the yard and buildings, aimlessly, it seemed to the watching farmer, though of course this was not the case. It was in fact a conducted tour. Fly knew that if this foster-child was to be allowed his freedom and the constant reassurance of her company for which he obviously craved, he must quickly learn (and patently he was a quick learner) his way about the
"Hullo," she said. "Who are you?"
"I'm a Large White," said the piglet.
"Blimey!" said one of the puppies. "If that's a large white, what's a small one like?" And they all four sniggered.
"Be quiet!" snapped Fly. "Just remember that five minutes ago you didn't even know what a pig was." And to the piglet she said kindly, "I expect that's your breed, dear. I meant, what's your name?"
"I don't know," said the piglet.
"Well, what did your mother call you, to tell you apart from your brothers and sisters?" said Fly and then wished she hadn't, for at the mention of his family the piglet began to look distinctly unhappy. His little forehead wrinkled and he gulped and his voice trembled as he answered.
"She called us all the same."
"And what was that, dear?"
"Babe," said the piglet, and the puppies began to giggle until their mother silenced them with a growl.
"But that's a lovely name," she said. "Would you like us to call you that? It'll make you feel more at home."
At this last word the little pig's face fell even further.
"I want my mum," he said very quietly.
At that instant the collie bitch made up her mind that she would foster this unhappy child.
"Go out into the yard and play," she said to the puppies, and she climbed to the top of the straw stack and jumped over the rail and down into the loose-box beside the piglet.
"Listen, Babe," she said. "You've got to be a brave boy. Everyone has to leave their mother, it's all part of growing up. I did so, when I was your age, and my puppies will have to leave me quite soon. But I'll look after you. If you like." Then she licked his little snout with a warm rough tongue, her plumed tail wagging.
"There. Is that nice?" she said.
A little while later, Farmer Hogget came into the stables with his wife, to show her his prize. They looked over the loose-box door and saw, to their astonishment, Fly curled round the piglet. Exhausted by the drama of the day, he lay fast asleep against his new-found foster-parent.
"Well, will you look at that!" said Mrs Hogget. "That old Fly, she'll mother anything, kittens, ducklings, baby chicks, she's looked after all of they, now 'tis a pig, in't he lovely, what a picture, good job he don't know where he'll finish up, but he'll be big then and we'll be glad to see the back of him, or the hams of him, I should say, shan't us, wonder how I shall get it all in the freezer?"
"Pity. Really," said Farmer Hogget absently.
Mrs Hogget went back to her kitchen, shaking her head all the way across the yard at the thought of her husband's soft-heartedness.
The farmer opened the loose-box door, and to save the effort of a word, clicked his fingers to call the bitch out.
As soon as Fly moved the piglet woke and followed her, sticking so close to her that his snout touched her tail-tip. Surprise forced Farmer Hogget into speech.
"Fly!" he said in amazement. Obediently, as always, the collie bitch turned and trotted back to him. The pig trotted behind her.
"Sit!" said Farmer Hogget. Fly sat. Babe sat. Farmer Hogget scratched his head. He could not think of anything to say.
Chapter 3
"Why can't I learn?"
By dark it was plain to Farmer Hogget that, whether he liked it or not, Fly had not four, but five children.
All the long summer evening Babe had followed Fly about the yard and buildings, aimlessly, it seemed to the watching farmer, though of course this was not the case. It was in fact a conducted tour. Fly knew that if this foster-child was to be allowed his freedom and the constant reassurance of her company for which he obviously craved, he must quickly learn (and patently he was a quick learner) his way about the
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