PIGS IN THE ATTIC
Stubbins Mulvaney was naturally honest. Mr. Welcome Hodgkins was kind.
So it came about that when the man talked pleasantly to the muddy boy
about the rights of farmers and the ownership of pigs in particular,
the child grew red in the face and looked uncomfortable.
"Thay!" he burst out, "I geth I thole five pigth. That boy thed pigth
wath wild, tho I took thome home. I put 'em up sthairth, where they'd
keep thafe. Do you th'pothe they wath your pigth?"
"Of course they were my pigs," replied the man, "and you must take them
carefully back to the field. Wait a minute! If you go to your mother
all covered with mud I'll warrant you'll get spanked."
"Thath nothing," was the reply, "ma ith uthed to mud and if I get
thpanked I ith uthed to that, tho ith all right. Thay! I like pigs. Do
you care if I thee you feed your pigth?"
"Certainly you may, and I'll tell you what, youngster," said Mr.
Hodgkins, "I believe you're a pretty good boy. After you put the five
pigs where they belong, you come over and have a talk with me, will
you?"
"Yeth, thir," and Stubbins left the barnyard fast as he could go,
except by riding a pig bareback.
In the meantime the five pigs in the attic had been playing Pussy
Wants a Corner, or Tag, or some other game that kept their twenty feet
continually pattering. Sally noticed them first.
"Hush, everybody," she cautioned. "I thought I heard something go
trot—trot—trot right here in the house."
Sure enough. When the children stopped their merry chatter, the sound
of many feet could not be mistaken.
"Stubbins is up to something," said Mrs. Mulvaney. "Go call him,
Hannah."
The child obeyed, but no Stubbins responded inside or outside of the
house.
"It ain't Stubbins," declared Hannah, her eyes wide with fear. "What
can it be?"
Mrs. Mulvaney, Cornelia Mary, and Sally remembered the stories they had
heard, stories that had kept the house empty so many years.
"It must—must be imagination," declared Cornelia Mary, whose lower
teeth seemed trying to break her upper teeth.
"We've all got ears," remonstrated Chinky.
"It's Stubbins," insisted Mrs. Mulvaney, "and I'll give it to him for
being so smart and not answering Hannah."
Upstairs went Mrs. Mulvaney, but she came down faster than she went
up. "It beats all," she declared, "there ain't nobody in the house but
us—and do you hear that noise again? I ain't afraid, but when I opened
the attic door I heard some one cough, and then he laughed, though it
sounded more like a squeal."
"Listen, now," faltered Sally, "hear that trot—trot—trot, again?"
Being a woman of action, Mrs. Mulvaney lighted a lamp. "I'm going in
that attic and look around," said she. "I don't care if you all come
along."
"I ain't afraid," bragged Chinky.
"Hold your tongue," said his mother, leading the way toward the attic.
Neither Cornelia Mary nor Sally could have spoken had they tried. Their
jaws wouldn't work. As for their knees, one minute they were stiff as
the joints of a Dutch doll, the next the poor girls could scarcely
stand. Johnnie was whimpering. Hannah and the twins clung together.
Only Mike and Chinky pretended not to be afraid, as Mrs. Mulvaney
climbed steadily upward. By the attic door she paused, surrounded by
her followers.
"Trot—trot—trot—patter—patter—patter," a shuffling sound, then all
was still.
"Open the door, Chinky, and step in," whispered Mrs. Mulvaney.
"You go first, ma, 'cause you got the light," begged Chinky. Mrs.
Mulvaney boxed his ears, and as the sound was repeated in the attic, it
didn't make it easier for Chinky to open the door. His mother pushed
him in.
"Now what do you see?" she said.
"Nothing," chattered the boy, his very freckles growing pale beneath
the lamp light.
It happened that the pigs were hiding behind a box back of the chimney.
One gave a little thin squeal just as the light was blown out. Another
said "Oof—oof!" Mike and Chinky bolted down the stairs. They thought
the pig said, "Boo—boo!" only of course they didn't know they fled
from the voice of a pig.
When Stubbins reached home the house was still. The family were
shivering in the sitting-room, talking in whispers.
"Let's keep still and see what Stubbins says," suggested Sally. "Why,
he's going upstairs!"
Mrs. Mulvaney and the children ran into the dining-room, but scarcely
had they crossed the threshold before the pigs began to squeal, and
Stubbins was heard shouting:
"Hold sthill, pig, hold sthill! Thay! Wait! Ith tho dark you make me
bump my head."
"I'll bump your head," called Mrs. Mulvaney. "What are you doing with
pigs in this nice, new house, you bad boy?"
[Illustration: "A CLEANER IF NOT A BETTER BOY."]
"Oh, ma, don't sthpank me, I thought they wath wild pigth, and I put
'em here tho they'd be thafe, but I thed I'd take 'em back."
After much squealing and kicking the five pigs were caught and carried
to the field by Hannah, Chinky, Nora, Dora and Johnnie. Stubbins was
needed in the kitchen where he was given what you might call a double
spanking; one for taking the pigs, the second for scaring his mother.
The spanking finished, Stubbins was asked to tell about his meeting
with Welcome Hodgkins. The child repeated every word. Mrs. Mulvaney
listened quietly until her young son confessed that he said his mother
was used to dirt. Then she spanked him until the dishes rattled in the
cupboard. After that Mrs. Mulvaney put different clothes on Stubbins,
scrubbed his hands and face until the skin was raw, brushed his hair so
hard his head swam, and sent him a cleaner if not a better boy, to call
on Welcome Hodgkins.
"You can't be folks unless you keep looking decent," declared Mrs.
Mulvaney, "and don't you ever let me know of your telling the
neighbours that your mother's used to dirt, or I may put you in the
boiler and boil you clean next time."
That is the way Mr. Hodgkins was led to believe that Mrs. Mulvaney was
an uncommonly neat woman, the day he and Stubbins became friends.