The Three Little Pigs

Once upon a time, in a cozy farmhouse, there lived three little pigs and their mother.

One spring morning, their mother called them to the kitchen table.

"My little ones," she said, "you are growing up. It is time for you to go out into the world and build homes of your own."

The three little pigs looked at each other. Their own houses! How exciting!

"Remember," said their mother, "build your houses strong and build them well. Then you will always be safe and snug."

She gave each pig a hug and a packed lunch. Then off they went down the road, waving goodbye.

Soon they came to a sunny green meadow beside the woods.

"This is the perfect spot," said the first little pig. "Let us each build a house right here."

The first little pig looked around. He saw a farmer with a big cart full of golden straw.

"Straw!" said the first little pig. "Straw is light. Straw is easy. I can build a straw house in no time at all!"

So he bought a bundle of straw. He piled it up, and tied it together, and shaped it into a round little hut. By lunchtime, he was finished.

"Done!" he said. "Now I can play all afternoon!"

The second little pig looked around. He saw a pile of sticks at the edge of the woods.

"Sticks!" said the second little pig. "Sticks are stronger than straw. And they are still quick to build with!"

So he gathered the sticks. He leaned them together, and tied them at the top, and made a pointy little hut. By the middle of the afternoon, he was finished.

"Done!" he said. "Now I can play too!"

The third little pig looked around. He saw a big stack of red bricks by the road, and a bucket of sticky gray mortar.

"Bricks," said the third little pig. "Bricks are heavy. Bricks are slow. But bricks are strong."

So he picked up his trowel. He spread the mortar. He laid one brick. Then another. Then another.

Brick, spread, press. Brick, spread, press.

It was hard work. His arms got tired. His trotters got dusty. The sun was hot on his back.

His brothers came by, munching apples.

"Come and play with us!" said the first little pig.

"You will be building all week!" laughed the second little pig.

The third little pig wiped his forehead. "I want my house to be strong," he said. "But it would go much faster with help. Will you help me? Then we can all play together after."

His brothers looked at each other. They looked at the big pile of bricks.

"Oh, all right," said the first little pig. "Just for a little while."

So the second little pig carried bricks. The first little pig spread the mortar. And the third little pig laid them in neat, straight rows.

Brick, spread, press. Brick, spread, press.

They sang a working song as they went. They laughed and told jokes. And by the end of the week, there stood a sturdy brick house with a red tile roof, two windows, a strong wooden door, and a tall chimney.

"Thank you for helping," said the third little pig.

Then the three brothers went to their own houses and slept soundly.

Now, in the woods nearby, there lived a big gray wolf. He was not a very nice wolf. He liked to huff and puff to show off how strong he was.

One evening, he came strolling through the meadow. He saw the little straw house.

He knocked on the door. Knock, knock.

"Little pig, little pig, let me come in!" he called.

"Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin!" said the first 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 blew the straw house down! Whoosh! Straw flew everywhere, like yellow confetti.

The first little pig was not hurt one bit. He ran as fast as he could to his brother's stick house. "Let me in! Let me in!"

The Wolf strolled over to the stick house. Knock, knock.

"Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!"

"Not by the hair on our chinny-chin-chins!" said the two little pigs.

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

And he huffed. And he puffed. And he blew the stick house down! Clatter, clatter! Sticks rolled everywhere.

The two little pigs were not hurt one bit. They ran as fast as they could, all the way to the brick house.

"Brother! Let us in!"

The third little pig opened the strong wooden door. "Quick, come inside!" He shut the door tight behind them.

The Wolf strolled up to the brick house. Knock, knock.

"Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!"

"Not by the hair on our chinny-chin-chins!" said all three little pigs together.

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

So the Wolf huffed. And he puffed.

The house did not move.

He huffed harder. He puffed harder. His cheeks grew big and round, like balloons.

The house did not move. Not one single brick.

He huffed, and he puffed, and he huffed, and he puffed, until he was all out of breath. He sat down on the grass with a bump.

"Oh, my," wheezed the Wolf. "Oh, my, my. That is a very strong house."

Inside, the three little pigs peeked out of the window. The Wolf looked so tired and so silly, sitting there puffing and panting.

The third little pig opened the window just a crack. He passed out a cup of cool water.

"Here," he said. "You must be thirsty after all that huffing."

The Wolf blinked in surprise. Nobody had ever been kind to him before. He drank the water in one long gulp.

"Thank you," he mumbled. His ears turned pink. Then he got up and slunk off into the woods, and he never came huffing and puffing around that meadow again.

The next morning, the three little pigs went back to work. This time, they built two more brick houses, side by side, right next to the first one.

Brick, spread, press. Brick, spread, press.

But they did it together. And when they were finished, their mother came to visit. She looked at the three strong brick houses in a row.

She smiled the biggest smile.

And the three little pigs lived safe and snug, happily ever after.