“Bur-r-!  Scumpf!  Fuffphmn, Xzvbgetyriep!  Bfrewcript!  Xvbnhytrwewqauitopekgsteredse!” cried that baboon, and no one could understand what he said, not even a phonograph, for you see his mouth and throat were nearly closed up by the puckery lemon.

And of course he couldn’t eat Pinky, for he could not even swallow some slippery elm, which as everybody knows, is the slipperiest thing there is.

“B-r-r-r!” cried the baboon again.

“Zyxwvutsrqponmlkjihgfedcba!” and he said the alphabet backward.  Then, holding his mumpy jaws in both paws and winding his red tail around his blue nose, out of the house he ran, leaving the little piggie girl safe.  And her mamma saw the baboon running away, and, without even stopping for the spool of thread, she came home and felt very badly that Pinky had been frightened.

“But you were very brave to hand the mumpy baboon a lemon,” she said, and I think so, too, for it was just the right thing.

And next, in case the fire shovel doesn’t burn a hole in the tablecloth and let the sugar run out and catch cold, I’ll tell you about the piggies and Santa Claus.

STORY XXIX

THE PIGGIES AND SANTA CLAUS

“Oh, so many things as I have for you to do today!” exclaimed Mrs. Twistytail, the pig lady, to her two boys, Flop Ear and Curly Tail, one morning.  “Such a lot of work!”

“My!” exclaimed Flop Ear.  “What is it, mamma?  Have we wood to chop or water to bring in?”

“Oh, neither one,” said Mrs. Twistytail, with a smile, as she shook the crumbs off the tablecloth, for the family had just finished dinner.  “I mean we have so many things yet to get for Christmas.  There are plums to buy for the plum pudding, and the candy and nuts and oranges and figs and dates and the sour milk lollypops and everything that Santa Claus hasn’t time to bring.”

“Why!” exclaimed Baby Pinky, who was putting on her new lemonade-colored hair ribbon, “I thought Santa Claus brought everything.”

“No, not quite everything,” explained Mrs. Twistytail.  “He brings all the presents, of course, but he lets the papas and mammas get the good things to eat, because different children like different things.  You wouldn’t like, for instance, to have nothing but hickory nuts, or walnuts, or chestnuts in your stockings, would you, boys?”

“No, indeed!” exclaimed Curly Tail and Flop Ear together, just like twins, though they weren’t.

“For those things are for Billie and Johnny Bushytail, the squirrel boys,” went on Mrs. Twistytail.  “And they wouldn’t like to have sour milk, and cold boiled potatoes, and the things that you like.

“So, as I say, there are lots of things for us to do to get ready for Christmas, and you boys will have to help me.  I think today I’ll send you to the store for some raisins and citron and plums and other things to make puddings and pies.”