"Yes, dear. Now listen: Once upon a time there was a nice, kind pig mamma, and she had three dear, little——"
"Muzzer, if I—if I div Jane my fwannel el'phunt, would she—would she 'top cwi'in? I like my Jane, muzzer!"
"Poor little sweetheart!" exclaimed Mrs. Belknap, with a gratifying sense of indignation against Jane welling up warm within her. "Never mind about Jane, darling; listen to mother while she tells you about the three dear little pigs. One was a little white pig, with pink eyes and a pink nose and the cunningest little curly tail."
"Was his 'ittle curly tail pink, muzzer?"
"Yes, dear; it was all pink, and——"
"No!" objected her son strongly; "his 'ittle curly tail was—it was— Tell me, muzzer!"
"It was—pinky white, a delicate, peach blossom sort of color," hazarded Mrs. Belknap. "Now be quiet, dear, and listen. The second little pig was spotted, white and——"
"If I div Jane my wed bwocks, would she 'top cwi'in, muzzer?"
"White and brown," went on his mother desperately. "Now you must listen, Buster, or mother cannot tell you the story. The third little pig was black—all pure black."