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Diana Malivani

The Happy

Little Pigs

An Illustrated Story in Verse

Translated from Russian into English by

Mark Herman and Ronnie Apter

Illustrated by the Author

Book Design:

BOOKNOOK.BIZ – www.booknook.biz

Cover Design:

DIGITALspin – www.bookcoverart.webs.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, digital, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without prior written permission from the copyright owner.

Copyright © 2015 by Snoutie Agency Limited (UK)

(Registered in England & Wales, Number: 08496424)

SNOUTIE AGENCY LIMITED (UK)

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United Kingdom

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One Day in the Lives of the Happy Little Pigs (an Illustrated Story in Verse)

For a little girl named Michelle

The Author would like to express her deep gratitude to her husband for his support and assistance with this book

Table of Contents

The Happy Little Pigs

The Author

Other books by the Author

The Happy Little Pigs

Beside a shady river bank,

Where oaks grow tall and stout,

Stood a cozy cottage,

The household of the Snouts.

The father – an imposing Boar,

His wife – Madame Oinklette,

The stylish loving mother

Of their piglet octet.

Eight charming children -

A rapidly growing crew -

Each little nose turned up,

Each tail a curlicue.

Each pink child delightful,

Their parents’ pride and joy,

One piglette, a little girl,

And seven mischievous boys.

Piglet eight was the smartest:

At school he learned to write

And count up to a hundred.

That little boy was bright!

The seventh was athletic:

Not one to rest, he’d rather

Race around on roller skates

And play ball with his father.

Piglet six was the boldest,

So brave he dared to poke

A wolf, then swim across the river

And clamber up an oak.

Piglet five was portentous,

Serious and urbane,

Giving advice to all he met

As he walked along with his cane.

Piglet four was the plumpest:

He ate and ate and ate.

He’d race to sit at the table

And ravage plate after plate.

Piglet three was the kindest:

He always helped his mother,

His father, and his sister,

And played with his baby brothers.

Piglet two was creative:

His poetry excelled.

He loved to look at the sky

And loved to draw pastels.

And then there was little Oinkletta

Who was her father’s pet,

Mischievous and stylish,

A beautiful piglette.

Whenever they go out to play,

All eight of them play hard,

Running around and squealing

In their own back yard.

Early in the morning, Papa Boar

Rises from his bed,

Counts the tails of his children

And pats their sleepy heads.

He wakes them up with gentle oinks

And sets them on the path

Leading to the river

For their morning bath.

They all run through the morning dew

And every neighbor sees

The happy piglet children.

Papa Boar is pleased.

Squealing and screaming and hammering hooves,

The morning bath is a great success!

Eight happily wagging tails,

Eight piglets out of breath!

Rub-a-dub-dub goes Papa Boar

Amid the happy shouts.

He scrubs their cute little curlicue tails,

And scrubs their snub little snouts.

Now their baths are finished.

They’re clean from tail to chin,

And so they run to Mama:

Breakfast is about to begin!

Steaming mugs of cocoa,

Pancakes topped with cherries,

Cheese tarts with clotted cream,

And fresh sweet blueberries.

Tying on their napkins,

The whole piglet brood,

Grunts and oinks happily

And digs into the food.

Papa and Mama agree:

«We are not prejudiced.

All eight are pink and perfect.

No better piglets exist!»

Into the yard they gaily go

To get some exercise,

To water flowers, play ball,

And chase blue butterflies.

They jump rope and play leapfrog,

And then the entire group

Runs to the stream to catch fish

For Mama’s special soup.

One of them took a basket

To gather acorns. He snuffled

Beneath the oak trees,

Hoping to find a truffle.

Caring Mama Oinklette

Gives a long loud cry,

«Soo-Ee! Come home!

The sun has left the sky.»

All tuckered out, the piggies oink

And, two by two, start trooping

Home after a busy day,

Their pink snouts drooping.

They soak in a fragrant bubble bath,

All seven sons and the daughter.

They jump and play and splash about,

Their hooves churning the water.

Next food, and then, their bellies gorged,

They all prepare to sleep.

They bounce a bit, then snuggle up