Nope. I'm afraid to let youse," was the answer. "Billy's a good goat, but
you see he don't just know you. Course I could introduce youse to him, an'
then he'd know you. But first along you'd better not drive him. I'll steer
him were you want to go. I gives a ride up an' down de block fer two
cents," he went on. "Course two of you is four cents."

"I've got a nickel," said Freddie quickly.

"Sure, dat's right. I forgot. Well, I'll give you both a ride up and down
de block and half way back again for de nickel."

"Here it is," said Freddie, handing it over, as he and Flossie took their
seats in the goat wagon. There was plenty of room for them and the
red-haired driver. Other children on the block crowded to the curbstone
and looked on with eager eyes as the Bobbsey twins started on their ride.
Mrs. Bobbsey, talking with her friend in the darkened parlor, knew nothing
of what was going on.

"Say, he is a good goat," said Freddie, when they were half-way down the
block.

"Sure he's a good goat!" agreed the boy, whose name was Mike. "There ain't
none better."

"It's lots of fun," said Flossie.

It was a fine day, even if it was Winter. The sun was shining brightly, so
it was not cold. What snow there was in New York, before the Bobbseys came
on their visit, had either melted or been cleaned off the streets so one
would hardly know there had been a storm.

"I wish we had a goat," said Freddie, when the ride was almost over.

[Illustration: "I WISH WE HAD A GOAT," SAID FREDDY.

_The Bobbsey Twins in a Great City. Page_ 216]

"So do I," agreed Flossie. "Let's ask Daddy to buy one," she suggested.

"We will," said Freddie.

"I'm goin' to sell dis goat," put in Mike.

"You are? Why?" cried the Bobbsey twins.

"'Cause I'm going to work. You see I won't have time to look after him. I
bought him off a feller what moved away, an' I keeps de goat in Sullivan's
livery stable. But I have to pay a dollar a month, an' so I began givin'
de boys an' girls around here rides for two cents to pay for Billy's keep.
But I can't do dat when I goes to work, so me mudder says I must sell 'im.
I don't want to, but I has to."

Flossie looked at Freddie and Freddie looked at Flossie on hearing this.
Neither of them said a word, but any one who knew them could easily have
told that they were thinking of the same thing--the goat.

"Well, I'll ride you back to where youse got in me wagon," said Mike, "and
then your nickel's about use