For there, with his face all swollen,
stood a bad old baboon who had escaped from the monkey circus down
the street.
"Bur-r-f! Ah ha! Wow! Now I have you!" barked the baboon, for they
make a noise something like a dog with the chicken-pox.
"Why, why, what is the matter?" asked Pinky, never dreaming that
there would be trouble, for she was such a gentle little thing. "Why
is your face all swelled up?" she asked.
"I have the mumps," explained the baboon, who had a blue nose. "I
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.
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