have the mumps, and I am hungry. Little pigs are good for the mumps,
I have been told. I guess I'll take you."
"Oh! I'm sure you must be mistaken," said Pinky, politely. "Surely
you are wrong. I am not good for mumps, and I'm sure they're not
good for me."
"Nor me, either," cried the baboon, putting his paw to his swollen
jaw. "I don't want 'em but I have to have 'em, and, as you are the
only thing that's good for them, I'm going to take you away with me.
No, on second thought, I'll eat you up here and now."
"Oh, please don't!" cried Baby Pinky, and she wished, Oh! how she
did wish her mamma would come back. "How did you get in here?" she
asked.
"I just waited until I saw Mrs. Twistytail go out," said the
blue-nosed baboon, "and then I knew you were here alone. So in I came,
here I am, and now this is the end of you!"
"Oh, please don't hurt me!" cried Baby Pinky, but that savage
baboon, rubbing his blue nose with the end of his tail--for he had a
red tail--that baboon, I say, made a jump for Pinky.
"Oh!" she cried, as she leaped out of the way. "I'll get you
something to eat, and then you won't have to take me," and out into
the kitchen she ran, with the mumpy baboon after her. All Pinky saw
on the table was a lemon, and, thinking the baboon might like
lemonade, she caught hold of it, cut it open with a knife, and then--
Well, that baboon made a jump for her, and, as he did so, Pinky
accidentally squeezed the lemon. Now, as everybody knows, when you
have the mumps, if a person even says "pickles," or "vinegar," or
"lemons" to you, it makes your throat all pucker up and pain you
like anything, and you can't even seem to swallow. Mumps and sour
things don't seem to go together.
And when the sour lemon juice got in the baboon's mouth and eyes,
and some trickled down on his mumpy throat. Oh, wow! if you will
excuse me saying so.
"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."
"Oh, goodie!" cried Flop Ear.
"And maybe we can clean out same of the cake and pie dishes after
you get through baking," suggested his brother.
"I think you may," said their mamma.
"But what can I do?" asked Baby Pinky, the littlest pig of them all.
"Can I go to the store for anything?"
"You will stay home with me," said Mrs. Twistytail, "and help me
bake. Now, boys, you had better start, so as to get home before
dark. Here are the things I want," and she gave them a list written
out on paper.
Oh! so many lovely victuals as there were! I can't write about them,
for I haven't had my supper yet, and I'm so hungry, when I think of
the good things, that I might even take a bite out of my typewriter,
and then I couldn't print any more stories for you, and that would
be too bad for me.
Anyhow, there were many good things that Mrs. Twistytail wanted, and
soon Curly and Flop were on their way to the store with a big
basket.
They got them all, and they took sniffs and smells, though not so
much as weenyteeny nibble of the Christmas things. But, oh! how they
did wish the time would come when they might really eat them!
"What do you most want for Christmas?" asked Curly as he and his
brother tramped on through the snow-covered woods.
"A toy steam engine," replied Flop Ear. "And what do you want, Curly
Tail?"
"A make-believe automobile."
"I hope we get them," went on Flop Ear with a sigh, and pretty soon,
off in the woods, they heard a voice calling:
"Whoa, now! Stand still there, if you please. Some of the things are
slipping off my sleigh, and I want to fasten them on. Whoa there,
reindeer!"
"Listen to that, would you now!" whispered Curly Tail to his
brother, as they hid down behind some bushes.
"Reindeer!" exclaimed Flop Ear. "There's only one person who has
reindeer and he is--"
"Santa Claus!" interrupted Curly Tail. "We've found Santa Claus,
Floppy, and this is the best chance in the world to tell him what
presents we want for Christmas!"
"That's right," agreed the other piggie boy. "We'll speak to him,"
and then they walked on a little farther and they saw the dear old
saint himself, with his red coat, all trimmed with white fur, and
his white beard, and he was as round and fat and jolly as anything.
"What ho! Hello!" cried Santa Claus, when he saw the piggie boys.
"What are you doing here?"
"We are on our way home from buying Christmas things," said Flop
Ear. "But have you really Christmas presents there, Mr. Santa
Claus?"
"I have indeed," replied the jolly old saint, with a twinkle in his
eyes. "But no one is allowed to see them until the right time. You
see I am traveling about, measuring the sizes of different chimneys,
so I can tell whether or not I can slide down them. Just as I got
here some of the toys began to slip off the sleigh and I stopped to
fasten them on. But I suppose you have your toys all picked out?"
"Yes," replied Flop Ear. "I want a toy steam engine, and Curly wants
a toy automobile."
"Oh, my!" exclaimed Santa Claus, and his voice seemed rather sad.
"Why, what is the matter?" asked Curly.
"Alas," said Santa Claus. "This year I have only one toy engine, and
a poor little lame boy has asked for that in a letter he sent to me
up the chimney the other night. And I have only one toy auto, and a
little boy who has no papa or mamma, and who is very poor, has asked
for that. I was going to give the toys to them, but since you have
met me in the woods I must grant your request, since whoever meets
Santa Claus face to face, can have just what they ask of him.
"But I know the little lame boy and the other poor little boy will
be much disappointed. Still it can't be helped. I will grant your
wishes, Floppy and Curly, but--"
"Stop!" suddenly cried Flop Ear.
"Hold on!" exclaimed Curly Tail.
Then, somehow, into their hearts there came a feeling of sadness,
and yet not so much sadness as gladness and happiness.
"I--I guess I don't want a toy steam engine," said Flop Ear. "Give
it to the lame boy."
"Good," cried Santa Claus.
"And I don't need the toy auto very much," went on Curly Tail. "Give
it to the poor little boy."
"Good!" cried Santa Claus again, and then his face seemed to shine
like the sun, and there seemed to be wreaths of holly and bunches of
mistletoe sticking all over him, and he sprang into his sleigh, the
reindeer shook their horns, making the bells jingle like anything,
and then, off on top of the snowflakes rode Santa Claus, calling
back:
"All right, piggie boys, I won't forget you, or any of the earth
children. It will soon be Christmas, and if you don't get autos or
steam engines you'll get something else," and then he vanished from
sight, and Flop Ear and Curly Tail went home, wondering very much at
what had happened.
And in the next story, in case the telephone man doesn't crawl
through the water pipe and scare the window shutter so that it goes
bang-bang all day, I'll tell you about Flop Ear and the stockings.
STORY XXX
FLOPPY AND THE STOCKINGS
"Flop Ear," said Mrs. Twistytail, the pig lady, to her son one
afternoon, "I think you will have to go to the store for me now."
"All right, I'm ready to go," said Flop Ear, "only I thought Curly
Tail just went, and that I could stay home and read my picture
book."
"He did go," said the pig lady, "but after I sent him for the
cocoanut to make the Christmas cake, I happened to remember that I
needed some chocolate to make a chocolate cake, so I think you will
have to go for that. I could send Baby Pinky, only she is over at
Jennie Chipmunk's, playing with her dolls."
"Oh, I'll go!" said Flop Ear, and he laid aside his book, and got
ready to go to the store. It was getting nearer and nearer to
Christmas every day, and, though the piggie boys hadn't seen Santa
Claus himself since that one time in the woods, they had seen a lot
of people dressed up like him.
You know jolly old St. Nicholas lets folks do that so he won't be
bothered so much when he is so busy. He has so much to do, arranging
about the presents that are to go in the stockings and down the
chimneys, that if he was interfered with, or talked to too much,
he'd never get done.
So he allows a lot of make-believe Santa Clauses to go around the
streets and in stores, making the children as happy as they can. But
they are not the real ones, only make-believes, though some of them
are very nice. Then the real Santa Claus has his time to himself.
And Floppy and Curly were not a bit sad that they had given up their
two chief toys, as I told you in the story last night, to the poor
boy and the lame boy.
Well, in a little while, not so very long, Flop Ear got to the
store, and he bought the cake of chocolate for his mother.
"And here is something for yourself," said the store man to the
piggie boy, and he gave him a cookie, with caraway seeds and little
candies on the top.
Then Flop Ear was glad he had gone to the store, and he was walking
along, nibbling on the cookie, and saving a bit for his brother and
Baby Pinky, his sister, when, all at once he heard a voice say:
"Here, little piggie boy, I want you!"
He looked all around, thinking it might be the fuzzy wolf or the bad
skillery-scalery alligator, but all he saw was good kind Nurse Jane
Fuzzy Wuzzy.
"Oh, I beg your pardon for thinking you were some one else," said
Flop Ear. "I took you for a wolf. What can I do for you?"
"I have dropped my ball of yarn, from which I was knitting a pair of
mittens for Sammie Littletail," said the kind muskrat. "The ball
dropped in the dirt and I can't find it. I wonder if you could?"
So Flop Ear hurried over to the rabbit house, where Nurse Jane
lived; she was the only one at home that day. And, by rooting around
in the dirt with his rubbery-ubbery nose, Flop Ear soon found the
ball of yarn.
"Oh, how smart you are!" exclaimed Nurse Jane. "And, as a little
present to you I am going to give you a pair of stockings that I
knitted myself. You can hang them up for Santa Claus on Christmas."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Flop Ear, as he took the stockings, which
were very big. Far too big they were for him, but he was too polite
to say so. And he thought, in case he couldn't wear them, that it
was all the better to have them big for Christmas, since Santa Claus
could put so much more in them.
Then Flop Ear, with the stockings, and the cake of chocolate, having
helped Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy, started for home. And on the way he
passed a place where there were a lot of dried leaves, and he
thought to himself:
"I'll fill one of the stockings with dried leaves and take them
home. They will make a good bed for Baby Pinky's doll," and so he
did fill one of the big stockings with leaves.
Then he went on a little further, carrying the one empty stocking
and the one filled with leaves, which was almost as large as Flop
Ear himself.
All of a sudden, as the piggie boy was going along, he came to a
hole in the ground, and while he was wondering who lived there, all
at once out popped a big fox, with a tail as large as a dusting
brush.
"This is where I get you!" cried the fox, and he made a spring for
the piggie boy. But Flop Ear was too quick for him, and away he
sprang, with the big-tailed creature after him.
"Stop! Stop! Wait for me!" cried the fox.
"I can't--I haven't time," answered Flop, and on he went, faster
than before. But a fox is a good racer, and soon he was almost up to
the piggie. Just then Flop Ear dashed behind a big log, and there he
found a little mouse sitting.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" asked the mouse.
"Because the fox is after me," replied Flop Ear, "and he is right
behind me, ready to grab me."
"Squeak!" cried the mouse. "The only way to get clear from a fox is
to fool him. Now what have you there besides the cake of chocolate?"
asked the mouse, for he could see that plainly enough.
"A stocking full of leaves," answered Flop, "and one empty. Also
part of a cookie."
"Very well," spoke the mouse. "Give me the cookie, and I will tell
you how to fool the fox."
Well, Flop Ear did not want to give away his cookie, but he thought
it was better to do that than to be eaten himself, so he gave the
sweet little cake to the mouse, who said:
"Now, when the fox comes up here, just toss out over the log the
stocking filled with leaves. The fox will think it is you, and he
will carry it off to his den before he finds out his mistake. By
that time you can run off home."
"But I will lose the Christmas stocking," said the piggie boy.
"It is better to lose one stocking than your life," said the mouse.
"Besides, one of those stockings is big enough for any piggie boy
for Christmas."
Then Flop Ear did as he was told. Just as the fox came running
along, over the log the piggie boy tossed the stocking filled with
leaves. The fuzzy creature grabbed it, crying out:
"Ah, this is the time I have Floppy!" and he imagined the pig was in
the stocking. Without stopping to look, off to his den ran the fox
with the stocking filled with leaves, and when he found out his
mistake--oh wow! Wasn't he disappointed though!
But Floppy got safely home with the other stocking and the cake of
chocolate and nothing else happened that night, except that Mrs.
Twistytail sent the kind mouse a souvenir postal inviting him to
come to the Christmas dinner.
And on the next page, provided the pussy cat draws a pail of pink
lemonade from the white inkwell, and gives the rubber doll a drink,
I'll tell you about the Twistytails' Christmas.
STORY XXXI
THE TWISTYTAILS' CHRISTMAS
"'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a
creature was stirring, not even--an automobile," read Curly Tail,
the little piggie boy as he sat by the open fireplace in his house.
"Hold on!" cried his brother Flop Ear, "that isn't right, Curly. It
should be not a mouse stirring--I know that poem."
"You're right, Floppy dear," admitted Curly Tail, "I read it wrong,
but anyhow tomorrow is Christmas, and I was thinking so much about
the toy automobile I want, that I guess I put one in the verse by
mistake."
"All right, then I'll forgive you," said Floppy, who was sitting by
the fireplace, stringing red, white and blue popcorn for Baby
Pinky's rag doll's Christmas tree. "And I'm thinking of the toy
steam engine I want," went on Flop Ear. "Oh! why doesn't Christmas
hurry up and come?"
"That's what I want to know," put in Pinky, as she dressed her doll
in her best dress, all ready for the holiday that was soon to be
there.
Oh such goings on as there were in the Twistytail house! The holly
with its red berries, and its prickly leaves, had been put in the
windows and on the gas chandeliers had been hung the magical
mystical mistletoe, with its white berries, and whoever stood under
it would have to love everybody else.
And such good smells as there were coming from the kitchen! Pumpkin
pies, and sour milk pudding, and apple cake, to say nothing of
cornmeal lollypops with chocolate in the middle.
Mrs. Twistytail was as busy as anything, and as for Papa Twistytail,
he had stayed home from the office on purpose to help decorate the
house. Flop Ear and Curly Tail and Baby Pinky had written letters to
Santa Claus the night before, and put them near the chimney. And, in
the morning, would you believe it? those letters were gone! Yes,
siree! not a trace of them left!
"Oh, goody!" cried Baby Pinky, "Santa Claus came in his reindeer
sleigh and took them. Now we'll get just what we want."
Busier and busier became everything in the Twistytail house, and for
that matter, there were busy times in the homes of Sammie and Susie
Littletail, and Johnnie and Billy Bushytail, and the Wibblewobble
duck children, and Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dogs. And as
for Uncle Wiggily Longears, the old rabbit gentleman, who was quite
rich since he found his fortune, he was so busy that he wore out two
rheumatism crutches and Nurse Jane Fuzzy-Wuzzy had to gnaw him
another from a broom stick, instead of a corn stalk.
Then it began to snow. Oh, how the white flakes did swirl down out
of the sky, blowing here and there like feathers. They piled up in
drifts, and the animal children raced through them, kicking their
feet about, tossing the white flakes up in the air, falling down in
the drifts and making snowballs. And the wind came down the chimney
like a fairy blowing a blast on a trumpet. Oh, it was the most jolly
time of all the year! Uncle Wiggily said to himself, and he ought to
know, if anybody does.
"You must go to bed early this night, children," said Mrs.
Twistytail after supper. "The sooner you are asleep the sooner will
it be Christmas."
"We will," said Curly Tail and Flop Ear and Baby Pinky, and off they
trotted, after kissing their papa and mamma good-night, their little
kinky tails flopping up and down like a lady's earrings when she
runs after a trolley car.
Darker and darker it grew, and still the snowflakes kept coming down
until all the ground was white and the roofs of houses, too, and the
gate posts and the pump in the yard and everything--all white,
ready for Christmas.
"Santa Claus' reindeer can easily pull the sleigh tonight," said
Baby Pinky, as she looked from the window.
"Come, get back into bed!" called Curly Tail, "or Santa Claus won't
come."
It was close to midnight, and still the snow came down. Outside the
Twistytail house, just as outside of every other house where the
children believe in Santa Claus, there was heard the ringing of
bells. Then some one called:
"Whoa, there, reindeer!"
Then there was a noise in the chimney. Maybe it was the wind, or
maybe it was a little bird crawling in to get warm. I don't know.
Anyway, there was a noise, but the piggie children never woke up.
And then--and then--and then--in a little while it was Christmas
morning. Somewhere a horn blew. Curly Tail heard it first, and,
though it was scarcely daylight, he hopped out of bed.
"Wake up!" he cried, "Wake up everybody! It's Christmas! Merry
Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas!" cried Flop Ear.
"Merry Christmas!" echoed Baby Pinky, and they all rushed
downstairs.
"Mercy me!" exclaimed Mrs. Twistytail, rubbing her eyes. "Christmas
so soon?"
"Yes, indeed!" shouted the children. "Oh, come and see what we
have!"
Well, if I were to tell you all that happened at the Twistytail
house that day, and about all the presents the children got, I'm
sure I would be so long finishing that you would get hungry. But oh!
everything was lovely!
"I've got my toy steam engine!" cried Flop Ear.
"And I have my toy auto!" said his brother.
"Oh, I see my new doll carriage--and a new doll in it--and look at
her little Christmas tree!" cried Baby Pinky! "Oh, how lovely
everything is!"
"Merry Christmas!" cried a voice at the door, and there stood Uncle
Wiggily Longears, with a lot of bundles under his paws. "Santa Claus
left these at my house by mistake," he said. "They belong here!" and
there was a sled, and skates and a football, and a rocking horse,
and a jumping jack, and I don't know what all.
"Merry Christmas!" cried another voice, and there stood Grandpa
Squealer, the oldest pig of them all, and in his paws he had a lot
of packages, and an extra one tied to his tail.
"Santa Claus left these at my house by mistake," he said, "they
belong here."
And there was a blackboard and some building blocks, and a toy top,
and toy horns, and a printing press and a phonograph, and oh! I
don't know what all else besides.
"Look at my auto!" cried Curly Tail. "It goes like everything!" and
he wound it up, and whizz! it went right at Uncle Wiggily.
"Hold on! Stop it! Don't let it bite me!" cried the old gentleman
rabbit, and he tried to get out of the way, but he slipped on his
broomstick crutch and fell down, and a piece of prickly holly fell
on him and tickled him so that he sneezed.
"Look at my steam engine!" cried Flop Ear. And he started it going,
and all of a sudden it darted right for Grandpa Squealer.
"Stop it! Hold it! Don't let it get me!" cried the old gentleman
pig. But the engine went right at him and ran over his toe, but it
didn't hurt much, because it was so little--I mean the engine was,
not Grandpa Squealer's toe. But he slipped, too, and fell, and some
mistletoe got tangled in his paws, but that only made everybody the
more happy.
"Merry Christmas!" cried Uncle Wiggily.
"Merry Christmas!" grunted Grandpa Squealer, and Mr. and Mrs.
Twistytail and the children. And from the outside the house all
their animal friends shouted the happy words, and the horns blew,
and the bells rang, and it was Christmas at last.
And so to one and all of you, children and big folks, I wish you a
Merry Christmas, ten thousand million of them, and one more for good
luck, and may you all be happy! And Uncle Wiggily says the same
thing.
So now, as there are as many stories in this book as it can hold,
even with pinching and squeezing, if I tell you any more they will
have to be printed in another book. And the name of that will be:
"Bedtime Stories; Toodle and Noodle Flat-tail."
The stories will be about some funny little beaver boys, and the
queer things they did. Uncle Wiggily will be in that book, too, and
so will many more of your animal friends, not forgetting Grandpa
Whacker, the oldest beaver of them all.
So, until those stories are ready, which will be next season, I'll
bid you all good-bye!
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Curly and Floppy Twistytail, by Howard R. Garis