Sticks Are No Match Either

The first little pig ran as fast as his trotters could carry him to his brother's house of sticks.

The wolf followed close behind. "Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!" he called again.

"Not by the hair of our chinny chin chins!" they cried together.

So the wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew that house down too, and the two little pigs went racing off toward their brother's house of bricks.