Corn-Farm Boy Read Online Free PDF Page A

the little pigs. He picked up the first two. Lady turned from the ladder and grunted at him. Dick scratched her on the back.
    â€œNow you get down slowly, Wilma,” he said, “and pick up the others and put them in the basket. I’ll keep rubbing Lady.”
    Wilma did as she was told.
    â€œNow go open the door,” said Dick. “You go out first. I’ll bring the basket and see if she’ll follow me over to the hog-house.”

    But Lady did not come. Dick set the basket down and came back with a board. Wilma brought a stick to help. Dick got behind the sow and hit her a little to keep her going. Lady refused to move, so he climbed up on a partition and prodded her with his foot. Wilma touched her lightly with her stick. These motions got her started. But she headed in the wrong direction—right toward Wilma.
    â€œShe’s got it in for me!” cried Wilma, frightened. “She’s coming after me!”
    â€œDon’t act scared,” said Dick. “Hold your ground. Tap her on the nose with your stick to turn her around.”
    It was easier said than done. By careful coaxing, the boy and girl got the pig started in the direction of the hog-house. Dick ran ahead and brought the basket with the little pigs in it. The pigs were squealing, so the sow followed. Dick and Wilma kept on walking to the hog-house. Here Dick had a pen ready and the door into it stood open. He emptied the little pigs out.
    Lady made sure they were all there. She smelled them, snorted a little and lay down. Most of the little ones wandered off, but one was under the sow, so Dick kicked her over. He picked up the little one, and that made Lady mad again. She started after Dick. He jumped out of the pen and closed the gate quickly. He looked the little pig over.
    â€œShe’s mashed it,” said Wilma, coming close.
    â€œNo,” said Dick, “but she’s hurt its leg. It can’t walk.”
    He set it down. The little pig tumbled over in the straw. Each time he helped it get up, it fell down again.
    â€œIt’s the left front leg,” said Dick. “I’ll put a splint on it.”
    â€œOh, you can’t put a splint on a baby pig! ” laughed Wilma.
    â€œWho says I can’t?” replied Dick.
    The boy found a piece of slat and whittled it down to the right size. He reached in his pocket for his handkerchief. He usually carried a clean one for emergencies like this. He ripped off a strip and used it to bind the pig’s leg to the slat.
    â€œThere! That’s supposed to be a splint,” said Dick. He put the little pig back in the pen with its mother.
    â€œO. K., Doctor Dick!” laughed Wilma. “But I don’t think it will do much good.”
    â€œWe’ll see,” said Dick.
    â€œCan I come in now?” called Margy at the door.
    â€œYes, if you’ll help me with the pig chores,” said Dick. “Want to get some oats for me?”
    â€œSure,” said Margy. She took a basket and ran over to the corncrib. The oats bins were overhead. When she came back her basket was half full. She set it down.
    â€œLook what I got!” she called.
    In the basket on top of the oats lay three baby mice.
    â€œThey came down the chute with the oats,” said Margy.
    â€œThey’re cute,” said Dick thoughtfully. “Wonder if I could tame them.”
    â€œLet’s teach them tricks!” cried Margy. She clapped her hands.
    Dick brought water to fill the water troughs. When he came back, he looked in the basket and said, “What did you do with your mice?”
    â€œOh!” said Margy, with a long face. “That mean old cat, Bob-bob, came and ate them. He gobbled them down so fast I couldn’t stop him.”
    Dick looked out the door. “It’s going to rain,” he said.
    He heard the tractor in the lane. Dad was coming in. He stopped and took a good look at the little pig with the hurt leg. It was