Free The Fairy-Tale Matchmaker by E. D. Baker Page A

had never met a pig. Although they were usually animals that had been changed through magic, she had heard that there were some who were descended from such altered animals and acted as normal as any person. When the pig removed his sunglasses to wipe the perspiration from his forehead, she decided that he must be one of these.
    â€œWhy do you ask?” said the pig.
    â€œI’m Cory Feathering,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “I’ve come in response to your ad; if you’re Mr. Porcine, that is.”
    The pig flicked a glance toward the front door, before saying, “I’m Mr. Porcine, but I didn’t write any ad.”
    â€œDidn’t you advertise for someone to mow your lawn?”
    â€œNo, I didn’t.”
    â€œBut,” she said, glancing at the address on the house, “this is the address in the listing.”
    â€œWhat’s going on here?” a second pig demanded as he strode across the lawn. He looked a lot like the first one except for his patched shorts, faded T-shirt, and earring in one of his ears.
    â€œThis girl said that someone posted an ad for a person to mow his lawn, but it wasn’t me,” said the first pig. “We wouldn’t do that, would we, Bertie?”
    â€œOf course not! I find this highly suspicious. Why would you say we had placed an ad when we clearly did not? Is this some sort of trick? Why would anyone do such a thing, unless … Who sent you? Why are you really here? Is this some ploy you’ve concocted to snoop around? We don’t take kindly to snooping!” The pig moved toward her in a threatening sort of way.
    â€œUh,” said Cory, taking a step back, “I think there’s been some sort of mistake. I came here to work, not snoop.” She thought it was curious that while Bertie looked angry, his brother looked frightened. “Good day, gentlemen. I’m sorry to have bothered you.” She was about to leave when the front door to the little brick house opened.
    â€œWhat’s all the ruckus?” said yet another pig. This pig was more conservatively dressed than the others in tan slacks and a white shirt. He wore metal-framed glasses on his piggy snout and he smelled of aftershave.
    â€œThis girl is sniffing around, asking nosy questions,” said the pig named Bertie. “She made up some story about answering an advertisement.”
    Cory sighed. “Someone named A. Porcine wrote a help-wanted ad for a person to mow his lawn.”
    â€œI’m Alphonse Porcine,” said the pig in the suit. “I wrote the advertisement. I purchased a lawn mower last week, but I found that I was unable to push it myself. You’ll have to excuse my brothers. They’re a little jumpy around strangers. They don’t get out much,” he said, giving the other two pigs a meaningful look. Turning back to Cory, he continued. “So, if you are interested, I could use your help. I need you to mow this yard as well as the yards on either side of mine. They belong to my brothers, who also cannot work my mower.”
    â€œOh, sure,” Cory said, glancing at the other two houses. “I can do that.”
    Cory had just seen a house that looked like a boot, so she didn’t think that the house made of straw or the house made of twigs was odd. They both had big yards, however, so she paid more attention to the grass she’dhave to mow, trying to estimate how long it was going to take her.
    â€œWould you like to start now?” asked Alphonse. “The mower is around back.”
    The other two pigs followed them to the shed behind the house and watched while their brother took out the mower and showed Cory how to use it. Cory could see why the pig couldn’t manage the mower; he was so short that he couldn’t see over the handlebar and he’d have to push with his arms above his head. What she couldn’t understand was why he’d bought it in