and then you'll
stop teasing," said Mr. Brown laughingly, as his wife came back, having
left the orange blossoms upstairs. "We'll all go to Florida!"

"When?" cried Bunny and Sue, eagerly.

"In about a week, I think," their father answered. "I shall have to go
to Georgia then, and after I get through my business there we can run
down to Florida for a few weeks."

There came a knock on the door just then, and when it was opened there
stood the old sailor, Jed Winkler.

"Is my monkey here?" he asked. "Yes, I see he is," he added, as he
caught sight of his pet near Bunny and Sue. "Come here, you rascal!" he
went on, pretending to be cross. "What did you want to run away for?"

"Is that what he did?" asked Bunny.

"Yes," answered Mr. Winkler, as he came in. "My sister opened the
windows to-day when she was sweeping or dusting or doing something like
that, and she must have forgotten to lock one. Wango found it and got
out. I didn't miss him until a little while ago. I hope he hasn't been
into any mischief."

"Oh, no," answered Mr. Brown. "It looks as though a strange dog might
have chased him after he left your house. We heard a pounding on our
door a few minutes ago, and when I opened it Wango rushed in.

"There was a big, strange dog near the porch, but I drove it away. Your
monkey had a stick in his hand. He probably picked it up to hit the dog
with, and he used it to pound on our door."

"He pounded hard, too," said Sue. "Wango pounded very hard."

"Hope he didn't hurt the door," said the old sailor.

"Oh, I think not," Mr. Brown answered. "But he was cold and shivery, so
the children wrapped him up."

"Well, I'm much obliged," said Mr. Winkler. "Come along home, Wango!" he
called, and the monkey leaped into his master's arms, dropping the
stick, which he no longer needed. "What's that nice smell?" asked Mr.
Winkler, as he started for home. "Did somebody break a bottle of
perfume?"

"It's orange blossoms," explained Bunny.

"And we're going to Florida and pick oranges," added Sue. "But there
aren't any monkeys there."

"Then that's the place where my sister ought to go," laughed the old
man. "She hates monkeys, and I think sometimes she leaves the windows
open or unlocked on purpose so Wango'll get lost. But I wouldn't want to
tell her that," he went on. For Miss Winkler was of rather a sour
disposition, not at all as jolly and happy as her brother.

When the old sailor and his pet had gone and supp