THE ARRIVAL OF PINKY PIG
In the morning Pinky Pig sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was at home. All the Beasts stood on the river bank looking at him. “What is it, Pinky Pig? Tell us the name!” they whistled and snarled and squealed and shrieked and whined and grunted and howled and roared, each in his own PARTICULAR voice.
“I know it,” said Pinky Pig. Then he yawned.
“I knew it last night,” he said, “but—ah—ah—I—must—have—been—asleep, and—ah—for—got—ten it.”
That is the way he talked when he was yawning.
Then All the Beasts jumped into the water and smashed Pinky Pig’s boat and his oars.
They PLUNGED about and
PUNCHED poor Pinky Pig and
POUNDED him until he went
plop—plop—into the water.
SQue-e-e-e-e-e-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-AL!