"Here goes;" said Flop, and he laid his books down on a clean stone.

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.