The Tale of Little Pig Robinson

The Tale of Little Pig Robinson by Beatrix Potter Read Free Book Online

Book: The Tale of Little Pig Robinson by Beatrix Potter Read Free Book Online
Authors: Beatrix Potter
Chapter One

    W hen I
     was a child I used to go to the seaside for the holidays. We stayed in a little town where there was a
     harbour and fishing boats and fishermen. They sailed away to catch herrings in nets. When the boats came
     back home again some had only caught a few herrings. Others had caught so many that they could not all be
     unloaded on to the quay. Then horses and carts were driven into the shallow
     water at low tide to meet the heavily laden boats. The fish were
     shovelled over the side of the boat into the carts, and taken to the railway station, where a special train
     of fish trucks was waiting.
    Great was the excitement when the fishing boats returned with a good catch of
     herrings. Half the people in the town ran down to the quay, including cats.
    There was a white cat called Susan who never missed meeting the boats. She belonged to
     the wife of an old fisherman named Sam. The wife’s name was Betsy. She had rheumatics, and she had no family
     except Susan and five hens. Betsy sat by the fire; her back ached; she said “Ow! Ow!” whenever she had to
     put coal on, and stir the pot.

    Susan sat opposite to Betsy. She felt sorry for Betsy; she wished she knew how to put the coal on and stir the pot. All day long they sat by the fire, while Sam was away fishing. They had a cup of tea and some milk.
    “Susan,” said Betsy, “I can hardly stand up. Go to the front gate and look out for
     Master’s boat.”
    Susan went out and came back. Three or four times she went out into the garden. At
     last, late in the afternoon, she saw the sails of the fishing fleet, coming in over the sea.
    “Go down to the harbour; ask Master for six herrings; I will cook them for supper.
     Take my basket, Susan.”
    Susan took the basket; also she borrowed Betsy’s bonnet and little plaid shawl. I saw
     her hurrying down to the harbour.
    Other cats were coming out of the cottages, and running down the steep streets that
     lead to the sea front. Also ducks. I remember that they were most peculiar ducks with top-knots that looked
     like tam-o’-shanter caps. Everybody was hurrying to meet the boats — nearly everybody. I only met one
     person, a dog called Stumpy, who was going the opposite way. He was
     carrying a paper parcel in his mouth.
    Some dogs do not care for fish. Stumpy had been to the butcher’s to buy mutton chops
     for himself and Bob and Percy and Miss Rose. Stumpy was a large, serious, well-behaved brown dog with a
     short tail. He lived with Bob the retriever and Percy the cat and Miss Rose who kept house. Stumpy had
     belonged to a very rich old gentleman; and when the old gentleman died he left money to Stumpy — ten
     shillings a week for the rest of Stumpy’s life. So that was why Stumpy and Bob and Percy the cat all lived
     together in a pretty little house.
    Susan with her basket met Stumpy at the corner of Broad Street. Susan made a curtsy.
     She would have stopped to inquire after Percy, only she was in a
     hurry to meet the boat. Percy was lame; he had hurt his foot. It had been trapped under the wheel of a milk
     cart.
    Stumpy looked at Susan out of the corner of his eye; he wagged his tail, but he did
     not stop. He could not bow or say “good afternoon” for fear of dropping the parcel of mutton chops. He
     turned out of Broad Street into Woodbine Lane, where he lived; he pushed open the front door and disappeared
     into a house. Presently there was a smell of cooking, and I have no doubt that Stumpy and Bob and Miss Rose
     enjoyed their mutton chops.
    Percy could not be found at dinnertime. He had slipped out of the window, and, like
     all the other cats in the town, he had gone to meet the fishing boats.



Susan hurried along Broad Street and took the short cut to the harbour, down a steep
     flight of steps. The ducks had wisely gone another way, round by the sea front. The steps were too steep and
     slippery for anyone less sure-footed than a cat. Susan went down quickly and

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