"I'm going to stand in front of Brother and hold up a pickle so he can see it," said Sister to herself. "I want to see what he'll do!"
So Sister hurried down to the kitchen and brought up a pickle. Then she went in the room where Brother was in bed and, holding the sour pickle in front of him, called:
"Look!"
And, no sooner did the boy look than he felt a sharp pain in his throat, almost as bad as toothache, and he cried:
"Go on away! Stop showing me that—that——" Well, he couldn't even say the word "pickle," for just the thought of anything sour hurts your mumps, you know.
The boy hid his face in his pillow, and when he couldn't see the pickle he felt a little better. But his Sister was still full of mischief.
"Lemons! Lemons! Nice sour lemons!" she called teasingly.
"Stop it! Stop it!" begged the boy. "Oh, how my mumps hurt! Mother, make Sister stop hurting my mumps!"
And when Mother came, and found what Sister was doing, she made the little girl go to bed, even though it was daytime.
"You will, very likely, get the mumps yourself," said Mother. "And I hope no one says anything sour to you."