“Something smells funny,” remarked the little lady.
“Smells sort of like pickled peaches,” chuckled the Cowboy, winking at the Turk.
The poor Dunce turned as red as a cranberry and he was most uncomfortable for a few minutes, but fortunately the talk turned to other matters and he felt very much relieved.
While he ate his supper the Dunce made up his mind that he would never enter another pickle jar and to his credit let it be said that he has strictly kept his word.
THE CLOWN FALLS OFF A SPOOL AND KNOCKS DOWN A HOUSE
AFTER his experience in the pickle jar the Dunce made a resolution to try to be good whenever he went into a big house. But the busy little fellow couldn’t keep out of mischief, and it wasn’t long before he got into trouble again. He didn’t really mean to be naughty, for he was a most kind hearted little chap, but being so full of life and so curious he simply couldn’t be quiet.
He loved to look into everything he saw, and being a good climber he wanted to crawl over everything. The little people had been skating all morning and they had stopped at a house, on their way home, to warm themselves. The Dunce had gone prowling about the place and had found a child’s play room with many wonderful toys in it which he wished his friends to see.
“Jimminie Christmas!” he shouted, “there’s building blocks and dolls, chairs and tables and everything! Come on in!”