legs and arms.

"I can ask you a riddle about what makes more noise than a pig under a
gate," said the Clown. "Shall I?"

"Please don't do that," begged the monkey. "I never was any good at
guessing riddles. Can't you do anything else?"

"Yes, a few things," the Clown said. Then he banged his cymbals
together and began to jiggle his arms and legs in such a funny way
that the monkey who was holding him laughed and laughed and laughed.

"Oh, you are too funny for anything!" cried the monkey. "I'm glad I
picked you up. Oh, excuse me while I laugh a little harder!"

The monkey set the Clown down astraddle the limb of a tree near the
trunk, and quite a distance up from the ground. Then the monkey
laughed so hard that, if he had not been holding on by his tail, he
surely would have fallen. For the Clown kept on doing his funny antics
and tricks, and the monkey kept on laughing until he had to hold his
sides with feet and hands, they ached so.

"Oh, I'm so glad I met you!" said the monkey, when he had a chance
between his fits of laughter. "I hope my master comes through this
street every day with his hand organ. I'll be looking for you."

"And I'll be looking for you--to keep out of your way, if I can,"
thought the Clown, though he did not say it out loud.

The monkey finally grew a little quiet, and he was just going to ask