los 3 cerditos
Once upon a time . . . there were three little pigs, who left their
mummy and daddy to see the world.
All summer long, they roamed through the woods and over the
plains,playing games and having fun. None were happier than the three
little pigs, and they easily made friends with everyone. Wherever they
went, they were given a warm welcome, but as summer drew to a close,
they realized that folk were drifting back to their usual jobs, and
preparing for winter. Autumn came and it began to rain. The three little
pigs started to feel they needed a real home. Sadly they knew that the
fun was over now and they must set to work like the others, or they’d be
left in the cold and rain, with no roof over their heads. They talked
about what to do, but each decided for himself. The laziest little pig
said he’d build a straw hut.
“It wlll only take a day,’ he said. The others disagreed.
“It’s too fragile,” they said disapprovingly, but he refused to
listen. Not quite so lazy, the second little pig went in search of
planks of seasoned wood.
“Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!” It took him two days to nail them together.
But the third little pig did not like the wooden house.
“That’s not the way to build a house!” he said. “It takes time,
patience and hard work to build a house that is strong enough to stand
up to wind, rain, and snow, and most of all, protect us from the wolf!”
The days went by, and the wisest little pig’s house took shape, brick
by brick. From time to time, his brothers visited him, saying with a
chuckle:
“Why are you working so hard? Why don’t you come and play?” But the
stubborn bricklayer pig just said “no”.
“I shall finish my house first. It must be solid and sturdy. And then
I’ll come and play!” he said. “I shall not be foolish like you! For he
who laughs last, laughs longest!”
It was the wisest little pig that found the tracks of a big wolf in
the neighbourhood.
The little pigs rushed home in alarm. Along came the wolf, scowling
fiercely at the laziest pig’s straw hut.
“Come out!” ordered the wolf, his mouth watering. I want to speak to
you!”
“I’d rather stay where I am!” replied the little pig in a tiny voice.
“I’ll make you come out!” growled the wolf angrily, and puffing out
his chest, he took a very deep breath. Then he blew with all his might,
right onto the house. And all the straw the silly pig had heaped against
some thin poles, fell down in the great blast. Excited by his own
cleverness, the wolf did not notice that the little pig had slithered
out from underneath the heap of straw, and was dashing towards his
brother’s wooden house. When he realized that the little pig was
escaping, the wolf grew wild with rage.
“Come back!” he roared, trying to catch the pig as he ran into the
wooden house. The other little pig greeted his brother, shaking like a
leaf.
“I hope this house won’t fall down! Let’s lean against the door so he
can’t break in!”
Outside, the wolf could hear the little pigs’ words. Starving as he
was, at the idea of a two-course meal, he rained blows on the door.
“Open up! Open up! I only want to speak to you!”
Inside, the two brothers wept in fear and did their best to hold the
door fast against the blows. Then the furious wolf braced himself a new
effort: he drew in a really enormous breath, and went … WHOOOOO! The
wooden house collapsed like a pack of cards.
Luckily, the wisest little pig had been watching the scene from the
window of his own brick house, and he rapidly opened the door to his
fleeing brothers. And not a moment too soon, for the wolf was already
hammering furiously on the door. This time, the wolf had grave doubts.
This house had a much more solid air than the others. He blew once, he
blew again and then for a third time. But all was in vain. For the house
did not budge an lnch. The three little pigs watched him and their fear
began to fade. Quite exhausted by his efforts, the wolf decided to try
one of his tricks. He scrambled up a nearby ladder, on to the roof to
have a look at the chimney. However, the wisest little pig had seen thls
ploy, and he quickly said:
“Quick! Light the fire!” With his long legs thrust down the chimney,
the wolf was not sure if he should slide down the black hole. It
wouldn’t be easy to get in, but the sound of the little pigs’ voices
below only made him feel hungrier.
“I’m dying of hunger! I’m goin to try and get down.” And he let
himself drop. But landing was rather hot, too hot! The wolf landed in
the fire, stunned by his fall.
The flames licked his hairy coat and his tail became a flaring torch.
“Never again! Never again will I go down a chimneyl” he squealed, as
he tried to put out the flames in his tail. Then he ran away as fast as
he could.
The three happy little pigs, dancing round and round the yard, began
to sing:
“Tra-la-la! Tra-la-la! The wicked black wolf will never come back…!”
From that terrible day on, the wisest little pig’s brothers set to
work with a will. In less than no time, up went the two new brick
houses. The wolf did return once to roam in the neighbourhood, but when
he caught sight of three chimneys, he remembered the terrible pain of a
burnt tail, and he left for good.
Now safe and happy, the wisest little pig called to his brothers:
“No more work! Come on, let’s go and play!”
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