Pigling Bland pulled out his paper; Alexander, after fumbling, handed over something scrumply--
You may walk with me." "Can I come back too?" inquired Pigling Bland.
Pigling Bland went on alone dejectedly; he came to cross-roads and a sign-post--"To Market Town,
Pigling Bland was shocked, there was little hope of sleeping in Market Town, and to-morrow was the hiring fair; it was deplorable to think how much time had been wasted by the frivolity of Alexander.
"I wish I could have a little garden and grow potatoes," said Pigling Bland.
Pigling squealed; then ran back frantically, hoping to overtake Alexander and the policeman.
Pigling Bland became frightened and cried "Wee, wee, wee!
After an hour's wandering he got out of the wood; the moon shone through the clouds, and Pigling Bland saw a country that was new to him.
He saw a small wooden hut, made his way to it, and crept inside--"I am afraid it IS a hen house, but what can I do?" said Pigling Bland, wet and cold and quite tired out.
Pigling Bland, much alarmed, determined to leave at daybreak.
He grabbed the white hen roosting next to the cock; then his eye fell upon Pigling Bland, squeezed up in a corner.
Pigling, although nearly scratched to pieces, contrived to hide the papers and peppermints inside his clothes.
At last the hamper was bumped down upon a kitchen floor, the lid was opened, and Pigling was lifted out.
Pigling Bland drew forward a coppy stool, and sat on the edge of it, shyly warming his hands.
Pigling Bland sat on the very edge of the coppy stool.
