The Wonder Clock; or, four & twenty marvellous Tales: being one for each hour of the dayPyle, Howard
Science
The Wonder Clock; or, four & twenty marvellous Tales: being one for each hour of the day
Pyle, Howard
Children's poetry; Fairy tales
By and by the ogre bawled out “_Fifty!!!_” and opened his eyes, for he
was done. Then he saw not more, but less, than he had seen before, for
the little pig was not there.
And now it was the largest of the three little pigs who began to talk
about going out into the woods to look for acorns.
“You had better stay at home and take things as they come. The crock
that goes often to the well gets broken at last;” that was what the
cock, the speckled hen, the black drake, and the grey goose said; and
they thought themselves very wise to talk as they did.
But no; the little pig wanted to go out into the woods, and into the
woods the little pig would go, ogre or no ogre.
After he had eaten all of the acorns that he wanted he began to think of
going home again, but just then the ogre came stumping along. “Aha!”
says he, “we have met again, have we?”
“Yes,” said the largest of the three little pigs, “we have. And I want
to say that I could find no roast apple at home, and so I did not come
back again.”
[Illustration: The Ogre shuts his eyes and counts fifty]
Yes, yes, that was all very fine; but they should have a settling of old
scores now. The largest of the three little pigs might just come along
home with the ogre, and to-morrow he should be made into sausages; for
there was to be no trickery this time, so there was an end of the
matter.
Come, come! the ogre must not be too testy. There was such a thing as
having too much pepper in the pudding—that was what the largest of the
little pigs said. If it were sausages that the ogre was after, maybe the
pig could help him. Over home at the farm yonder was a storehouse filled
with more sausages and good things than two men could count. There was a
window where the ogre could just squeeze through. Only he must promise
to eat what he wanted and to carry nothing away with him.
Well, the ogre promised to eat all he wanted in the storehouse, and then
off they went together.
By and by they came to the storehouse at the farm, and there, sure
enough, was a window, and it was _just_ large enough for the ogre to
squeeze through without a button to spare in the size.
Dear, dear! how the ogre did stuff himself with the sausages and
puddings and other good things in the storehouse.
By and by the little pig bawled out as loud as he could, “_Have you had
enough yet?_”
“Hush-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-sh!” says the ogre, “don’t talk so loud, or you’ll
be rousing the folks and having them about our ears like a hive of
bees.”
“No,” bawled the little pig, louder than before, “but tell me, _have_
you had enough yet?”
“Yes, yes,” says the ogre, “I have had almost enough, only be still
about it!”
“Very well!” bawled the little pig, as loud as he could, “if you have
had enough, and if you have eaten all of the sausages and all of the
puddings you can stuff, it is about time that you were going, for here
comes the farmer and two of his men to see what all the stir is about.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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