His pigpen spruced up by the farmer's wife and his good, soft mud gone, the small pig "is more than sorry. He is angry." So that night, discarding his new blue bow, he takes to the road. A swamp is a satisfying place to sleep until he's evicted by the animals; a junk yard is messy but not muddy. Then he comes to the city (where "even the air is dirty") and finds what he is looking for on a freshly-laid sidewalk. "He sits down/ and sinks down/ into the good, soft mud". . . which gets harder and harder until he cannot move. The spectacle of a pig stuck in the sidewalk draws crowds and will wow kids. Indeed, this little pig is a laugh all the way to his new, never-to-be-mopped-up mud puddle.
