But Mr. Cann shook his head. "No," he said, "it's no use to put it back with the others,—it's too little. Why, it's nearly three weeks old now, and only that big! It hasn't any chance. It's too little to live."
Mamma reached over and took the little pig into her lap. "May we have it?" she asked.
"Of course you may," said Mr. Cann. "It's no good to me, and I thought it might amuse Cheery for a day or two."
"Thank you ever so much, Mr. Cann," said Cheery, gravely; and then, as he turned away, she crept close to Mamma and laid her hand on the tiny piggy. "Really wont it live, Mamma?" she asked.
Mamma smiled down into her eyes. "Can't you answer that question for yourself, dearie?" she asked.
Cheery's face brightened. "Of course it will," she said, the dimples coming at the corners of her mouth again, "and we know why, don't we? Shall I go and get a basket or something, for it to stay in?"
