lollypop. "Is my ear pulled off, Curly?"

"No, but it is hanging down like anything," said his brother. "I
guess its broken!"

"Oh, I am so sorry!" exclaimed the little boy dog. "I didn't mean to
do it. I was only going to tag you, but I slipped. Come in the house
and my mamma will put some salve on your ear, and I'll give you an
ice cream cone."

And just then Grandfather Squealer came past, and he saw Curly's
little brother, with his ear hanging down, going flippity-flop, and
the old gentleman said:

"Oh ho! I think I will call you Flopear, or Floppy for short. That
is a good name, and it just fits you." And so after that the second
little pig was always called Floppy for his ear never stood up again
but always hung down like a bell clapper. But the salve soon made it
well, and the storekeeper lady gave Floppy and Curly each an ice
cream cone.

So that's all now, if you please, but in case the butcherman doesn't
throw the loaf of bread at the candlestick and scare the lamp
chimney I'll tell you in the story after this about Pinky
Twistytail's rubber ball.




STORY III