"Why did he go to the dentist?" your Aunt Amy asked, thinking to hear another story.

Mr. Crocodile in Pain

"I had better repeat the poetry Mr. Crow wrote about it, for that tells the whole story, and without further delay Mrs. Mouser Cat recited the following:

Come, listen, and I'll sing awhile
About a winsome crocodile,
Who had a most engaging smile
Whene'er he smole.

His basket with fresh fish to fill
Each day he'd tramp o'er vale and hill,
For he possessed quite wondrous skill
With rod and pole.

But as he fished, one summer's day,
A toothache chased his smiles away;
No longer could he fish and play
His favorite role.

Not a Tooth in His Head

He stamped and growled, the pain was vile,
No more he grinned, Sir Crocodile,
(And he'd a most engaging smile
Whene'er he smole.)

So straight he to the dentist went,
On stopping or extraction bent,
His soul was with such anguish rent;
He reached his goal.

"Come sit down in the chair awhile;
Open your mouth, Sir Crocodile!"
(He had a most engaging smile
Whene'er he smole.)

"Which is the tooth?" the dentist said;
"Dear, dear! You must have suffered--
You've not a sound tooth in your head,
Not one that's whole!"

He pulled them out; it took some while,
And then that toothsome crocodile
Had not quite such a pleasing smile
Whene'er he smole.

"How do you suppose Mr. Crocodile felt when he was hungry, and wanted to eat something?" your Aunt Amy asked.