The Three Little Pigs

By Gafrila Desmonda Wenno

Once upon a time, there was an old pig with three little pigs, and one day she said to them: “My children, it is time for you to go out in the world and seek your fortunes”.
So, bidding their mother goodbye, the three little pigs set out to earn their living.

The first little pig, whose name was Whitey, met a man with a bundle of straw and said to him: “Please, mister, will you give me that straw to build a house with?”
The man gave Whitey the straw, and he built himself a house with it.

Presently a wolf came along and knocked at the door of Whitey’s house.
“Little pig, little pig,” he said. “Let me come in.”
But of course Whitey didn’t want the wolf to come in, so he said:
“No, no, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!”
This made the wolf angry, and he said:
Then I’ll puff and I’ll huff, and I’ll blow your house in”.
So he puffed and he huffed and he blew the house in. And he carried poor little Whitey away to his home in the forest.

The second little pig, whose name was Blackey, met a man carrying some wood, and he said to him: “Please, mister, will you give me that wood to build a house with?”
The man gave Blackey the wood and he built himself a house with it.
But along came the wolf and knocked at the door of Blackey’s house.
“Little pig, little pig,” he said. “Let me come in.”
“No, no,” replied Blackey in a great fright. “Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!”
“Then I’ll puff and I’ll huff and I’ll blow your house in.”
So the wolf puffed and he huffed and at last, he blew the house in. And away he went with Blackey to his home in the forest.

Now the third little pig, whose name was Brownie, met a man with a load of bricks and he said to him: “Please, mister, will you give me those bricks to build a house with?”
The man gave him the bricks, and Brownie built himself a very snug little house with them.
He had just finished his house when the wolf came along.
“Little pig, little pig,” he said. “Let me come in!”
“No, no, by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!”
“Then I’ll puff and I’ll huff and I’ll blow your house in.”

But though the wolf puffed and he huffed, and he huffed and he puffed, he could not blow down Brownie’s house made of bricks.
So he said: “Little pig, I know where there is a nice field of turnips.”
“Where?” asked Brownie.
“Over in Mr. Smith’s field. If you will be ready tomorrow morning, I will call for you and we will go together and get some for dinner.”
“Very well,” answered Brownie. “I will be ready. What time do you want to go?”
“Around six o’clock,” answered the wolf.