Then he read the sign once more:
"NO ONE MUST SLIDE DOWN THIS CELLAR DOOR!"
"I guess it's only a joke," decided Flop. "Now for one good slide and then I'll go to school."
So he went around to the side of the door, where there was a stone, and, by stepping on this, and giving a little jump, the piggie boy got to the top part of the sliding door, ready for a coast down.
Of course he had no sled on which to slide, but his trousers were good and thick, and he knew he could not wear a hole in the seat just this once. So he gathered his legs together under him, gave himself a little push and down the slanting door he went as nicely as an icicle in the middle of the Fourth of July.
"Wow! This is great!" cried Flop. "I guess the other fellows will wish they'd taken a slide. This is nifty!"
I don't know myself what "nifty" means, but Flop said it, so I have to write it down.
Faster and faster he slid down the cellar door. It was a long one, and now he was half way to the bottom.
"Oh, won't we have fun sliding after school!" the little piggie boy cried. "I don't see why they looked rather sorrowfully after her brothers and put up that sign not to slide. This is the best cellar door I ever saw."
Faster and faster he slid, laughing and shouting in glee, and he was almost at the bottom and he was wondering if he would have time for just one more coast before school, when all of a sudden: