The Thirteen Little Black Pigs, and Other Stories

CHAPTER III

IS scarcely a 'story,'" said

their mother, "it was only

about a tremendous quarrel

there once was in ancient

times between some people

as to what colour a certain

shield was. One party declared it was black; the other maintained it was white. Both were ready to swear to the fact, and I don't know what terrible consequences might not have followed, had it not suddenly been discovered that – what do you think? Can you guess?"

Max and Dolly knitted their brows and pondered. But no, they could not guess.

"What was it, mamma?" they asked.

"One side of the shield was black and the other white," said she, with a quiet little smile, "so both were right and both were wrong."

The children considered. It was very interesting.

"But," said Max, "it couldn't be like that with Dolly and me – there couldn't be thirteen and not be thirteen."

"No, it is difficult, I own, to see how that could be," said mamma. "But queer things do happen – there are queer answers to puzzles now-and-then."

"I wish it was settled about ours," said Dolly, with a sigh. "I – I don't like quarrelling with dear Maxie," and she suddenly buried her face in her mother's lap and began to cry – not loudly, but you could see she was crying by the way her fat little shoulders quivered and shook.

This was too much for Max.

"Dolly," he said, tugging at her till she was obliged to look up, "don't– I can't bear you to be unhappy because of – because of me – do kiss me, Dolly, and don't let us ever think any more about those stupid little black pigs."

So they kissed each other, and it was "all right."

"But," said Dolly, "I'm so afraid it'll begin again when we see them. Could papa ask Farmer Wilder to put them somewhere else, mamma? We can't leave off looking out of our windows, can we?"

"I think it would be rather a babyish way of keeping from quarrelling, to ask to have the temptation to quarrel put away," said mamma. "Besides – it would have to be settled, you see."

"Yes, but," said Dolly, "then one of us would have to be wrong, and I'd rather go on fancying that somehow neither of us was wrong."

"That's rubbish," said Max, "it couldn't be."

"Listen," said mamma; "promise me that neither of you will look out of the window to-morrow morning before you see me. Then if it is really a fine mild day, the doctor says you may both go a little walk."

"Oh, how nice!" interrupted the little prisoners. "And I will take you myself," their mother went on. "Immediately after your dinner – about two o'clock will be the best time. And we will see if we can't settle the question of the thir – no, I had better not say how many – of the little black pigs, in a satisfactory way."

Mamma smiled at the children – her smile was very nice, but there was a little sparkle of mischief in her eyes too. And I may tell you, in confidence, though she had not said so to Max and Dolly, that that afternoon she had passed Farmer Wilder's when she was out walking with their father, and had stood at the gate of the very field which the children saw from the nursery window, where the little black pigs were gambolling about. And Farmer Wilder had happened to come by himself, and he and his landlord – the children's father, you understand – had had a little talk about pigs in general, and these piglings in particular. And so mamma knew more about them than Max and Dolly had any idea of.

How pleased they were when they woke the next morning to think that they were really going out for a little walk – out into the sweet fresh air again, after all these weary dreary weeks in the house. And it was really a very nice day; there was more sunshine than had been seen for some time, so that at two o'clock the children were all ready – wrapped up and eager to start when their mother peeped into the nursery to call them.

At first the feeling of being out again was so delicious it almost seemed to take away their breath, and they could not think of anything else. But after a few minutes they quieted down a little, and walked on with their mother, one at each side.

"We kept our promise, mamma," said Dolly, "we didn't look out of our windows at all this morning. Nurse let us look out of the night nursery one for a little – it's turned the other way, so we couldn't see the pigs."

"But we'll have to see them in a minute," said Max, "when we come out of this path we're close to the gate of the big field, you know, mamma."

"I know," said mamma, "but I want to turn the other way – down the little lane, for before we go to the field to look at the pigs, I want to speak to Farmer Wilder a moment."

A few minutes brought them to the farm, and just as they came in sight of it, Mr. Wilder himself appeared, coming towards them. Max and Dolly started a little when they first saw him; something small and black was trotting behind him – could it be one of the piglings? Their heads were full of little black pigs, you see. No, as he came nearer, they found it was a small black dog – a new one, which they had never seen before.

"Good morning, Mr. Wilder," said their mother, "that's your new dog – Max and Dolly have not made acquaintance with him yet. 'Nigger,' you call him? He's a clever fellow, isn't he?"

"A bit too clever," replied the farmer. "He's rather too fond of meddling. Yesterday afternoon he got into the big field where we'd just turned out all the little black pigs, and he was chasing and hunting them all the time."

"They'll not get fat at that rate," said the children's mother, smiling. "What a lot of them there are – twelve, didn't you say, yesterday?"

"Yes – a dozen – nice pigs they are too," said the farmer, "perhaps it would amuse the children to see them – black pigs are rare in these parts."

He turned towards the field, Max, Dolly and their mother following.

"Mamma," said Max, eagerly, "did you hear? There's only twelve."

"But I saw thirteen," said Dolly.

"Yes," said mamma. "You were right as to the number of pigs, Max, but Dolly was right as to the number of black creatures she counted, for Nigger was there. So you were wrong in your counting, Max, and Dolly was wrong in the number of pigs, and so – "

"Both were right and both were wrong," cried the children together, "like the people who quarrelled about the shield!"

"Just fancy!" said Dolly.

"It is queer!" said Max.

And when they got to the gate and stood looking at the pigs – I think Dolly preferred keeping the gate between her and them – they counted again, and this time there were only twelve! For Nigger was standing meekly at his master's heels, having been whipped for his misdemeanours of the day before.

"Any way, mamma," said Dolly, as they made their way home again after a pleasant little walk, "it shows how silly it is ever to quarrel, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," Max agreed.

And you may be sure mamma was quite of the same opinion!

RIGHT HAND AND LEFT

An old friend had come to see the children's mother. They had not met for several years, and the visitor was of course interested in seeing all the little people.

So mamma rang the bell for all five to come down from the nursery. Lily and Belle, being the two eldest, came first. Lily was eleven, Belle's ninth birthday was just passed. They were followed by their two brothers, Basil and George, who were only seven and five, and Baby Barbara, a young lady of two. They were a pleasant-looking little party, and their kind-faced new friend asked many questions about them, as each was introduced to her by name.

The children did not care very much for her remarks as to whom each of them was like, for she spoke of relations most of them were too young to remember, or had scarcely ever heard of, as she was an elderly lady.

But the two older girls at least, listened with all their ears to one or two little things their own dear mother herself said about them.

"Lily," she said, as she drew forward the fair-haired little girl, "is already quite my right hand."

Lily's eyes sparkled with pleasure, but Belle grew rather red, and turned away. She was not the least like Lily, her hair was dark and cut short round her head, for she had had a bad illness not long ago.

The stranger lady had quick eyes.

"And Belle?" she said, kindly. "You can't have two right hands of course. But I've no doubt she is a helpful little woman too, in her way."

"Oh, yes!" said her mother, "she is. And she is getting on well with her lessons again, in spite of having been so put back last year."

"And," said the old lady – who had noticed the rather sullen look on Belle's little brown face – "I hope the two sisters love each other dearly, besides being a pair of extra hands to their mother."

Lily smiled back in reply.

"Yes," she said, "I am sure we do."

Soon after, their mother sent them all upstairs again. Nurse had come down to fetch Baby, and the two boys trotted off together. Lily took Belle's hand as they got to the foot of the stairs.

"Isn't she a nice lady?" she said, for Lily was feeling very pleased just then with herself and everybody else – I must say she was very seldom a cross little girl, but she was perhaps rather too inclined to be pleased with herself – "and didn't you like," she went on, "what mamma said of us two, to her?"

"No," said Belle, roughly, pulling herself away from her sister. "I don't want to be counted a clumsy, stupid, left hand. I don't wonder you're pleased, you always get praised."

"Oh, Belle!" said Lily. "I really don't think you need be so cross about it. You know you're younger than I."

But Belle would not answer, and all the rest of the afternoon she remained very silent and gloomy, looking, to tell the truth, as if that strange invisible little "black dog," that we have all heard of, I think, had seated himself comfortably upon her shoulders, with no intention of getting off again in a hurry.

It was a fine summer's day, almost too hot indeed, so the children had tea early and went out a walk afterwards, returning in time to spend half-an-hour with their mother, before she went to dress for dinner.

This half-hour was generally a very happy time for all the children. But to-day one little face was less bright than usual, and mamma's eyes were not slow to notice it, though she said nothing.

When the three little ones had gone off to bed, their mother glanced at the two elder girls.

"You are quite ready, I see, for coming into the drawing-room before dinner," she said.

"Yes, mamma," Lily replied, "all except washing our hands. They do get so quickly dirty in this hot weather, if we romp about at all."

"Then I think you might practise a little, papa likes to see one of you in the drawing-room when he comes in, and to-night Belle shall be with me while I'm dressing."

"Very well, mamma dear," said Lily, running off as cheerfully as usual. Being with their mother when she was dressing was a great treat, it didn't happen every night, and the little girls took it in turns. This evening I don't think Lily was at all sorry to be without her sister's company, for the little black dog, or at least his shadow, was still on Belle's shoulders.

Belle sat quietly in a corner of the room, her mother said very little to her, not even when Collins, the maid, had gone.

"You must wash your hands, I think, before coming down to the drawing-room," she said at last, as she poured some nice warm water into a pretty little basin with rose-buds round the edge, which the children admired very much.

"Thank you, mamma," said Belle, brightening up a little, "and may I use your beautiful pink scented soap, please?"

"Certainly dear," said her mother, and Belle set to work to wash her little brown hands, which, it must be confessed, were decidedly in need of it.

Rather to her surprise, her mother stood beside her looking on.

"Are you watching to see if I wash them quite clean, mamma?" asked the little girl.

"No, dear, I'm sure you will do that. I was wondering if it has ever struck you how prettily and kindly your little hands behave to each other. Right hand is the cleverest and quickest, of course, but left hand is always willing and ready too. They take care not to hurt or scratch each other, and if by chance one is ever hurt, the other is as tender as possible not to rub or touch the sore place."

Belle went on washing her hands, or rather bathing them in the water, for by this time they were quite clean. She looked at them as she did so, but she did not speak.

"And another thing," said her mother, "take one out of the water, and see how helpless the other is, even clever right hand can do very little without her sister, and it is the same in all the work you do, one hand would be very little use without the other."

Belle's face grew rosy.

"Mamma dear," she said, as her hands wiped each other dry on the nice soft towel, "I know what you mean. You're like a fairy, mamma, you can see into my heart. I didn't like that lady thinking Lily was your right hand, and me no good to you. It made me feel as if I didn't love Lily."

"But nobody said you were no good, Belle dear. You made that up in your own silly little head. For you know even though Lily is older, you can still help me a great deal, and even help her to help me," said her mother.

"Like as if you were the head, and we your two hands," answered Belle. "Well, mamma, I won't mind now even if you count me only your left hand, and I'll always remember what you've said."

She kissed her mother, quite happy now, and when they were going to bed that night she told Lily all about it.

"I am afraid," said Lily, looking sorry, "that I was too proud of what mamma said of me. But if each of us is always as kind to the other as right hand is to left hand, and left hand to right hand, it will be all right, won't it dear?"