The Tale Of Little Pig Robinson (2010) - Plot & Excerpts
Lambs skipped and baa’ed; the sheep looked round at Robinson. “Mind yourself in Stymouth, little pig,” said a motherly ewe. Robinson trotted on until he was out of breath and very hot. He had crossed five big fields, and ever so many stiles; stiles with steps; ladder stiles; stiles of wooden posts; some of them were very awkward with a heavy basket. The farm of Piggery Porcombe was no longer in sight when he looked back. In the distance before him, beyond the farmlands and cliffs — never any nearer — the dark blue sea rose like a wall. Robinson sat down to rest beside a hedge in a sheltered sunny spot. Yellow pussy willow catkins were in flower above his head; there were primroses in hundreds on the bank, and a warm smell of moss and grass and steaming moist red earth. “If I eat my dinner now, I will not have to carry it. Wee, wee, wee!” said Robinson.
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