Her eyes were bright and shining, and she went from one to another with such a happy face.

The queer little pig that Mr.Harry had christened "Daddy Longlegs," had been washed, and he lay on his heap of straw in the corner of his neat little pen, and surveyed his clean trough and abundance of food with the air of a prince.

Why, he would be clean and dry here, and all his life he had been used to dirty, damp Penhollow, with the trees hanging over him, and his little feet in a mass of filth and dead leaves.

Happy little pig! His ugly eyes seemed to blink and gleam with gratitude, and he knew Miss Laura and Mr.Harry as well as I did.
His tiny tail was curled so tight that it was almost in a knot.

Mr.Wood said that was a sign that he was healthy and happy: and that when poor Daddy was at Penhollow he had noticed that his tail hung as limp and as loose as the tail of a rat.