Once upon a time, there were three little pigs. When they were old enough, they left their home to seek their fortunes.
Mother Pig was very sad to see them leave.
The first little pig met a farmer with a load of straw.
“Please sir,” he said “will you give me some straw to build a house?”
The farmer gave the first little pig some straw.
And the little pig built a house of straw.
Along came a wicked wolf and knocked on the door.
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in,” said the wolf.
But the little pig answered, “No, no! Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.”
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” said the wolf.
And he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in, and he ate the little pig up.
The second little pig met a woodcutter with a bundle of sticks.
“Please sir,” he asked “may I have some sticks to build a house?”
The woodcutter gave him some sticks, and the second little pig built his house of sticks.
Then along came the wolf who said, “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
“No, no! Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,” answered the second little pig.
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” said the wolf.
And he huffed and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he blew the house in, and he ate the second little pig up.
The third little pig met a bricklayer with a load of bricks.
“Please sir,” he asked “may I have some bricks to build a house?”
The bricklayer gave him some bricks, and the third little pig built his house of bricks.
Then along came the wolf who said, “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
And the third little pig answered, “No, no! Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.”
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” said the wolf.
So the wolf huffed and he puffed and he huffed and he puffed.
He huffed and he puffed until he could huff and puff no more.
But he couldn’t blow the little house in.
“I must think of a trick to get that little pig out of his house,” the crafty wolf said to himself.
After thinking for a while, he said, “Little pig, I know a garden where there are some tasty turnips. Will you join me at seven o’clock tomorrow morning and we will get some?”
“Where are they?” asked the little pig.
“Down in Misty Meadows,” said the wolf.
The little pig agreed to go.
But instead of waiting for the wolf to come at seven o’clock, the little pig went at six o’clock all by himself and brought home a full basket of turnips.
When the wolf came at seven o’clock, he asked the little pig if he was ready to go.
“Why, I have been there already,” said the little pig, “and I have brought home a full basket of turnips for dinner.”
The wolf was very angry at this, but he pretended not to be.
He thought of another trick.
“Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple tree,” he said.
“Where?” asked the little pig.
“Over at Windy Hill,” said the wolf. “I will come for you at six o’clock tomorrow morning and we will go together to pick some juicy apples.”
Well, the little pig got up at five o’clock the next morning and went to the apple tree, hoping to get back home before the wolf came.
But it took him a long time to get there. He was still up in the tree when he saw the wolf coming.
He was very frightened.
The wolf stopped under the tree and said, “Little pig, you got here before me. Are they nice apples?”
“Yes,” said the little pig. “I’ll throw one down for you to taste.”
But he threw it so far that when the wolf ran to catch it, the little pig climbed down and ran home.
The next day, the wolf came to the little pig’s house again. “Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon. Will you go with me?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” said the little pig. “When shall I meet you?”
“At three o’clock,” said the wolf.
So the little pig, as usual, went earlier. At the fair, he bought a butter churn to make butter in.
As the little pig was going home with it, he saw the wolf coming up the road. He didn’t know what to do.
He decided to climb into the churn to hide.
But the churn tipped over and rolled down the hill.
The wolf was so frightened by it that he ran away home without going to the fair to find the little pig.
Now, when the wolf found out that the little pig had been inside the churn, he was furious.
He went to the little pig’s house.
“Little pig, little pig,” he called, “you got away from me at Misty Meadows, Windy Hill, and the Shanklin fair, but can’t get away from me now. I am coming down the chimney to eat you up!”
Well, the little pig quickly took the lid off the big pot of water on the fire….
SPLASH! Into the boiling water fell the wolf!
The wolf jumped up and ran howling out the door, never to return to the little brick house, where the little pig lived happily ever after.
Mother Pig was very sad to see them leave.
The first little pig met a farmer with a load of straw.
“Please sir,” he said “will you give me some straw to build a house?”
The farmer gave the first little pig some straw.
And the little pig built a house of straw.
Along came a wicked wolf and knocked on the door.
“Little pig, little pig, let me come in,” said the wolf.
But the little pig answered, “No, no! Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.”
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” said the wolf.
And he huffed and he puffed and he blew the house in, and he ate the little pig up.
The second little pig met a woodcutter with a bundle of sticks.
“Please sir,” he asked “may I have some sticks to build a house?”
The woodcutter gave him some sticks, and the second little pig built his house of sticks.
Then along came the wolf who said, “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
“No, no! Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,” answered the second little pig.
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” said the wolf.
And he huffed and he puffed, and he huffed and he puffed, and he blew the house in, and he ate the second little pig up.
The third little pig met a bricklayer with a load of bricks.
“Please sir,” he asked “may I have some bricks to build a house?”
The bricklayer gave him some bricks, and the third little pig built his house of bricks.
Then along came the wolf who said, “Little pig, little pig, let me come in.”
And the third little pig answered, “No, no! Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.”
“Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in,” said the wolf.
So the wolf huffed and he puffed and he huffed and he puffed.
He huffed and he puffed until he could huff and puff no more.
But he couldn’t blow the little house in.
“I must think of a trick to get that little pig out of his house,” the crafty wolf said to himself.
After thinking for a while, he said, “Little pig, I know a garden where there are some tasty turnips. Will you join me at seven o’clock tomorrow morning and we will get some?”
“Where are they?” asked the little pig.
“Down in Misty Meadows,” said the wolf.
The little pig agreed to go.
But instead of waiting for the wolf to come at seven o’clock, the little pig went at six o’clock all by himself and brought home a full basket of turnips.
When the wolf came at seven o’clock, he asked the little pig if he was ready to go.
“Why, I have been there already,” said the little pig, “and I have brought home a full basket of turnips for dinner.”
The wolf was very angry at this, but he pretended not to be.
He thought of another trick.
“Little pig, I know where there is a nice apple tree,” he said.
“Where?” asked the little pig.
“Over at Windy Hill,” said the wolf. “I will come for you at six o’clock tomorrow morning and we will go together to pick some juicy apples.”
Well, the little pig got up at five o’clock the next morning and went to the apple tree, hoping to get back home before the wolf came.
But it took him a long time to get there. He was still up in the tree when he saw the wolf coming.
He was very frightened.
The wolf stopped under the tree and said, “Little pig, you got here before me. Are they nice apples?”
“Yes,” said the little pig. “I’ll throw one down for you to taste.”
But he threw it so far that when the wolf ran to catch it, the little pig climbed down and ran home.
The next day, the wolf came to the little pig’s house again. “Little pig, there is a fair at Shanklin this afternoon. Will you go with me?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” said the little pig. “When shall I meet you?”
“At three o’clock,” said the wolf.
So the little pig, as usual, went earlier. At the fair, he bought a butter churn to make butter in.
As the little pig was going home with it, he saw the wolf coming up the road. He didn’t know what to do.
He decided to climb into the churn to hide.
But the churn tipped over and rolled down the hill.
The wolf was so frightened by it that he ran away home without going to the fair to find the little pig.
Now, when the wolf found out that the little pig had been inside the churn, he was furious.
He went to the little pig’s house.
“Little pig, little pig,” he called, “you got away from me at Misty Meadows, Windy Hill, and the Shanklin fair, but can’t get away from me now. I am coming down the chimney to eat you up!”
Well, the little pig quickly took the lid off the big pot of water on the fire….
SPLASH! Into the boiling water fell the wolf!
The wolf jumped up and ran howling out the door, never to return to the little brick house, where the little pig lived happily ever after.