The Three Little Pigs, Chapter 2
(Recently, I uncovered this Chapter 2, previously unknown to the world, proving that the final paragraph of Chapter 1, is not original but added at a later date by someone other than the author. The pigs dancing around the piano and singing, “Who’s afraid of the big, bad wolf,” and the final statement, “And they lived happily ever after,” are added. These additions do not match Chapter 2, which I now unveil to you.)
The three little pigs stared in horror at the dead wolf in the cauldron, the flames still licking the iron. With great effort they pulled it free and dragged the carcass across the clean and tidy room, out the front door, across the yard to the foot of the mulberry tree. Huffing and puffing the three little pigs dug a shallow grave, rolling the wolf into it, then covering it with dirt. They piled stones into a crude pyramid as high as they stood to ever remind them of their arch enemy.
None of the three little pigs slept the first night. At breakfast, prepared by the third little pig, they found it difficult to speak to one another, though they were brothers. Now that the wolf was dead, should the three of them live together in the house made of bricks? Or, should the first little pig and the second little pig rebuild their homes? Should they use hay and sticks? Should they use bricks? The first little pig said, “Do you think that the wolf is actually dead?” The second little pig said, “His body is dead, but do you think that his spirit will haunt us?” The third little pig said, “What makes you think that he is the only wolf out there?” Continue reading »
