just like Central Park, Bunny!"

"Almost!" said the little boy. "Oh, Sue. Look at the squirrel on the
merry-go-'round!"

In a cage on the counter, behind which stood an old man, was a
bushy-tailed squirrel, and he was going around and around in a sort of
wire wheel. It was like a small merry-go-'round, except that it did not
whirl in just the same way.

"What do you want, children?" asked the old man who kept the animal
store.

"We--we'd like a monkey, if it doesn't cost too much," said Bunny.

"And a parrot, too. Don't forget the parrot, Bunny," whispered Sue. "We
want a parrot that can talk."

"And how much is a parrot, too?" asked Bunny.

The old man smiled at the children. Then he said:

"Well, parrots and monkeys cost more than you think. A parrot that can
talk well costs about ten dollars!"

Bunny looked at Sue and Sue looked at Bunny. They had never thought a
parrot cost as much as that. Bunny had thought about twenty-five cents,
and Sue about ten.

"Well," said Bunny with a sigh, "I guess we can't get a parrot."

"Does one that can't talk cost as much as that?" Sue wanted to know.

"Well, not quite, but almost, for they soon learn to talk, you know,"
answered the nice old man.

"How much are monkeys?" asked Bunny. It was almost as if he had gone
into Mrs. Redden's store at home, and asked how much were lollypops.

"Well, monkeys cost more than parrots," said the old man.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Bunny. "I--I guess we can't ever save up enough to
get one."

"No, I guess not," agreed Sue.

The old man smiled in such a nice way that Bunny and Sue felt sure he
would be good and kind. He was almost like Uncle Tad.

"Where did you get all these animals?" asked Bunny, as he and his sister
looked around on the dogs, cats, monkeys, parrots, guinea pigs, pigeons
and goldfish, that were on all sides of the store.

"Oh, I have had an animal store a long time," said the old man. "I buy
the animals and birds in different places, and sell them to the boys and
girls of New York who want them for pets."

"We have a pet dog named Splash," said Bunny. "He's bigger than any dogs
you have here."

"Yes, I don't keep big dogs," said the old man. "They take up too much
room, and they eat too much. Mostly, folks in New York want small dogs,
because they live in small houses, or apartments."

"My Aunt Lu can't have a dog or a parrot or a monkey in her house," said
Sue. "Henry, the colored elevator boy, won't let h