Mrs. Peter Perkins hurries hastily home 
after fine food shopping on fair Friday. 
She is giving a pretty polite private 
political party and must clean her lovely 
lacquered living room. She puts the fine 
food into the kitchen's custom-made cupboards, 
checks her handsome homemade purple pies, 
crunchy sweet-crack cookies, courageous cakes 
and bologna bakes, plumcot pickles and funny 
fandangles that she will serve to her pretty 
polite private political party's gracious guests. 
She grasps the handle of her brush-broome 
with the millford motor and marches merrily 
into the lovely lacquered living room. Dagmar Dog is 
lazily lounging on the carpet and woefully watches 
Mrs. Peter Perkins perkily plug the brush-broome 
with the millford motor into the electric energy 
outlet. Cosmo, the cat crouches cautiously 
on the craftmade chair with the billowy pillows. 
She half shuts her eyes precariously pretending 
nothing is about to happen in the lovely lacquered 
living room. The sudden shocking sound of the 
brush-broome's millford motor is all Cosmo, the Cat 
and Dagmar Dog can stand and rising to their feet 
rush from the lovely lacquered living room----SCOOT! 
Hungry Harry Perkins hurries home from school. Mrs. 
Peter Perkins switches off her brush-broome with the 
millford motor and dashingly dances out to the 
kitchen. "Do not eat any purple pie, crunchy 
sweet-crack cookies, courageous cakes or bologna 
bakes, plumcot pickles or funny fandangles," she 
cautions. "I want to serve these things at the 
pretty polite private political party tonight." 
Then she returns to her lovely lacquered 
living room. Slow Sam, the hired man, wanders wearily 
in from working. Mrs. Peter Perkins switches off her 
brush-broome with the millford motor and 
dashingly dances out to the kitchen once more. 
"Do not eat any purple pie, crunchy sweet-crack 
cookies, courageous cakes or bologna bakes, plumcot 
pickles or funny fandangles," she cautions. "I want 
to serve these at the pretty polite private 
political party tonight." 
Slow Sam, Hungry Harry and Mr. Peter Perkins 
look longingly at all the glorious goodies gathered 
together on the kitchen's custom-made shelves. 
"All right," sighs Mrs. Peter Perkins, "You may each 
have one serving." 
And she slowly sits down on a kitchen stool warily 
watching as each human being gleefully picks out and 
gobbles up his parceled-out portion. 

Actually, no one showed up at the pretty polite 
private political party because everyone who was 
invited went to a public PTA meeting at the simply 
elegant society school. This made Mr. Peter Perkins, 
Slow Sam and Hungry Harry very happy because they 
got to eat up all the handsome homemade purple pies, 
crunchy sweet-crack cookies, courageous cakes and 
bologna bakes, plumcot pickles and funny fandangles
and begged Mrs. Peter Perkins to give another party 
real soon. 

    



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Mrs. Peter Perkins' Private Political Party (book 3)