Dorking saw the moon in the sky, and throwing the ball into the house,
he cried out to his wife:

"'What kind of a thing is this, anyway? I've been lugging it around for
an hour or more, and now there's another moon come to take its place.'

"'Come straight up here to your roost, you foolish old thing.' Mrs.
Dorking said angrily. 'If you had half as much sense as Mr. Monkey, you
could have taken the children and me on a picnic, instead of fooling
your time away with a rubber ball.'

"What did she mean by 'having as much sense as Mr. Monkey,'" your Aunt
Amy asked, and Mrs. Goose replied:




WHEN MRS. MONKEY WAS DISSATISFIED.


"Oh, it was an idea she got from some of Mr. Crow's poetry. All the
fowls on our farm have laughed at it time and time again. This is the
way it goes:

Said old Mrs. Monk one morning, "Look at me.
I am tired of living in this cocoa tree,
You have got to go to work and rent a flat,
For I'll not live in this manner, mind you that."

Then when Mister Monkey heard all that she said,