One thing, especially, distressed Mrs. Pig. Her children would put their fore feet right into the trough when they ate their meals out of it. Nothing she said to them made the slightest difference. Even when she told them that they were little pigs they didn't seem to care."We're all bigger than Grunty is," said one of her sons-a bouncing black youngster who was the most unruly of the litter."You're all greedy," Mrs. Pig retorted. "Do try to restrain yourselves when you eat. Remember-there's plenty of time.""But there's not always plenty of food," Grunty Pig told his mother. "Sometimes there isn't any left for me.""I know," said Mrs. Pig. "I know that your brothers and sisters eat your share whenever they can. Farmer Green furnishes enough food for you all. And if you children didn't forget your manners everybody would get his share-no more and no less."Now, Mrs. Pig was not the only one that noticed how piggish her youngsters were at the trough. One day Farmer Green himself remarked to his son Johnnie, as they leaned over the pen, that that litter of pigs did beat all he had ever seen."They come a-running at meal time as if they were half starved. It's a wonder they don't get in the trough all over."Johnnie Green liked to watch the pigs."That black fellow's the greediest of the lot," he declared. "He's getting to be the biggest. He's almost twice the size of the little runt.""The runt doesn't get his share," said Farmer Green. "We'll have to do something to help him, or he'll never be worth his salt."Grunty Pig looked up at Farmer Green and gave a plaintive squeal, as if to say, "Hurry, please! Because I'm always hungry."And Blackie, his greedy brother, looked up at Farmer Green too. He said nothing. But his little eyes twinkled slyly.