The Monitor-register., 1896-06-12
RAYS FUN WITH GRUNTLE.
BY HALsEY B. STEVENSON.

lone. two, three! Umbrella, box,
bag! That's ALL"
Ray was counting his baggage. He
had come two hundred miles all alone on
the cars, and now the train was stopping;
and there, waiting at the station, was his
grandfather.
Zone, two. three! That's all, Grand
pa; and here 1 ami"
In truth, the care of himself had been
a SOLDERING charge, and the ten-years'old
boy was greatly relieved to be in his
grandfather's keeping. They were o
riding toward the farm, some two miles
into the country, where Ray was to spend
a whole month.
cray, / / have a playmate for you"
"Who, Grandpa? A boy? What is
his name ?"
"Not a boy, but an animal"
ga dog-a shepherd dog, Grandpa. to
follow me all around"
"No."
ga colt, that 1 can feed and harness
and drive all myself ?"
mo, Ray; he is a pig. 'Gruntle,' we
call him. He won't follow you and you
can't harness him, but there is lots of fun
in Gruntle."
Ray had never played with a pig. He
had scarcely ever seen one, except in
pictures. He was very eager and curl
onu. ord That aftarnoop b;o GrsA -o1L
from the old farmhouse was to the yard
beside the barn where the pen and feed
ing trough were.
And there was Gruptle. What a dis
appointment Instead of a white, play
full, roly-poly pig, such as Ray had
thought of, Gruntle was black, or, rather,
a dark, dirty brown. On one side he was
smeared with mud. He looked gaunt
instead of fat, and made a horrible
hungry noise, half squeal and half grunt,
till food was poured into the trough.
"Grandpa, 1 don't think much of that
playmate" said Ray.
"There is lots of fun in him." was the
reply of the old farmer, who knew the
pranks that pigs are up to.
"Look, Grandpa! he has eaten all the
food you put into the trough, every bit,
and SO oon Doen he always eat like
that ?"
81 never saw him do differently. That
is the pig of it, Ray"
Rays disappointment did not keep him
away from Gruntle's yard. Where there
was a chance for fun he was not likely to
be be%hindhand; and often his grand
fathers words would come into his mind,
"rhere is lots Of fun in Gruntle." The
boy came again and again to watch the
pig from over the fence.
Gruntle would stick his nose into the
ground and push it along, not in straight
lines, but all about, higgledy. piggledy.
Ray called it blowing, 80 easily did the
pointed snout turn over the sod. Large
patches of the yard looked as if they had
been plowed. Why that should be done
so much was a mystery till the pig was
seen jerking out a grass root. "He is
hunting for something to eat; that
explains everything a pig does, reasoned
the boy.
No. not everything, as they soon found.
Gruntle liked mud; and in a miry place
near the barn he would wade about, and.
putting his nose deep in, blow till the
bubbles boiled up. Ray remembered his
W mussing in the wet road, fanoied
that the pig was making mud pies; but
Gruntle had a deeper thought He lay
down and wringled about till his body
was almost out of sight, and, resting his
nose on a convenient stone, went to sleep.
Not mud pies but a mud bed he was
making. .Pigs like to wallow in the
mire." Ray had a dim remembrance of
something like that, and, boy-like, said
to himself: pigs like to wallow and
pigs like to swallow"
One afternoon Ray noticed that the
rail fence about the yard was creaking
and shaking as if some one were pushing
violently against it. Coming near he
saw Gruntle scratching his back against
a projecting rail. Now and then a
wriggleu of the pigs tail would seem to
tell when just the right spot of uneasi-
ness was touched. Picking up a stout
stick Ray poked it through the fence,
and when the pig rubbed against the rail
he rubbed the stick against the pig.
| GruntIa atopnad &c If ota rtIad aod about
to run away; but the continued scratch
ing was so d%eliciously agreeable to him
that he did not run but stood still and
actually lay down while Ray piled the
stick, being rewarded with most express
sive grunts of delight.
There IS some fun in Gruntle," the
boy said to his grandfather that night.
The next day he went to try the
scratching again. Gruntle greeted him
with a hungry squeal, standing with his
fore feet in the trough and his nose
through the fence. Ray reached over
with the stick, but the pig was so shy
and SO spry that there was no touching
him. After several vain attempts Ray
threw the stick down, saying: "There is
no use trying to scratch a pig when he
does not feel like it. He is hungry. I'll
feed him."
1t was near the time of the noon feed.
ing, and the pig was hungry. His coax
ing, impatient, persistent squeal allowed
no doubt of that. Near by over a fire
was a big kettle in which cut pumpkins
had been boiling all the morning for
Gruntle's food. The boy found in the
kettle a hugh, long-handled dipper, and,
filling this with the boiling pumpkin, he
started toward the yard. Perhaps he
thought that what was so hot for him
to carry would be scorching hot for
Gruntle to swallow; perhaps he thought
that the pig would have sense enough to
wait till the food was cool; perhaps he
thought of setting the dipper down by
the fence and making the pig wait; but
it was SO easy, having started, to put it
over the fence at once, that almost before
he had time to think the hot mush was
steaming in the trough. 10 an instant
Gruntle snatched a big mouthful and,
staggering back, squealed piteously, and
then ran as fast as he could far around
the yard, squealipg till he could swallow
what he had taken.
Ray was frightened and felt very sorry
that he bad caused such distress, and
| climbed upon a fence with a vague pur-
pose of doing something or other. Mean
while Gruntle, having completed the
| circuit of the yard, was making for the