stared with open mouths at the disgracefully dirty, happy little pig; but Mrs. Cann was in earnest, and finally her husband climbed into the pen and fished the baby out of the puddle, in spite of his grunts and squeals, wiped him off with a wisp of hay and turned him loose to follow his rescuers back to the farm house. Once there, Winkie Baby was held under the pump, in spite of his struggles and wails, until he was himself again, and then—he made a wild rush for the nearest chicken pan.
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