Little Pig and His Garden.
Ever so long ago there was a little pig who lived by himself in a small brick house.
Back of the house was a fine big garden.
Little Pig was always digging in his garden.
He dug out all the weeds and raked the dirt close around the little plants so that they would grow tall and strong.
Everyone heard of Little Pig's garden and came from far and near to see it.
But after a time, Little Pig grew tired of such hard work.
I want to work at something else, he said to himself.
I will go out into the world and maybe I can find some work that is easy.
So Little Pig shut up his little brick house and started down the road.
After a while, he heard the sound of music.
When he stopped to listen, he saw a small white house among the trees.
Little Pig went toward the house.
A big yellow cat was sitting in the door, playing a fiddle.
It must be easy to play a fiddle, thought Little Pig.
It can't be so hard as digging in the dirt all day.
So he went up to the big yellow cat and asked, Will you teach me to play the fiddle, friend cat?
To be sure, answered the cat, try it now.
Just do as I am doing.
Little Pig took the fiddle and began to play.
But no sweet music came from it.
Squeak, squeak, squeak, went the fiddle.
The pig felt very sad.
Oh, I can't make sweet music as you do, he said.
Yes, you can, said the cat, if you try long enough.
It takes hours and hours of work to learn to play the fiddle.
Then I won't learn to play the fiddle, said the little pig.
That is harder work than weeding a garden.
I will look for something else.
Goodbye.
Little Pig went on and on until he came to a little stone house.
There he saw a big dog who was making butter.
That seems easy enough, thought Little Pig. so he asked the dog to teach him to make butter.
The dog said, Go to work, my friend.
The churn is full of thick, sour cream.
The pig churned for a few minutes, but he soon became tired and stopped a while to rest and fan himself.
Go on, said the dog.
You can't stop to rest until the butter is churned.
Oh, dear me, said little pig.
This is harder work than digging in the dirt.
I don't want to make butter.
I will hunt for something easy.
Goodbye.
So the pig went on farther.
By and by he came to a green meadow.
There he saw a man taking honey out of a large beehive.
That seems easy, thought the pig, and I like to eat honey myself.
So he ran quickly to the man and asked, May I help you?
The man said, Yes, little pig, I have been wanting a helper for a year and a day.
I will teach you how to take honey out of a beehive.
Little Pig started to work at once, but the bees did not like him.
They stung him on his back and legs and snout until he cried.
Oh, oh, cried Little Pig, the bees are hurting me.
Well, said the man, sometimes they hurt me too, but I get the honey just the same.
You must try again.
No, said Little Pig, I will go home.
So Little Pig went back to his garden.
All work is hard, he said.
There is no easy work.
Making a garden is the best work for me.