t me to. Polly knows me."

"And he knows me, too!" exclaimed Bunny.

"And me!" eagerly added Charlie Star. "Let me and Bunny take him home,
please?" he begged.

"Is that the way to say it?" remarked the teacher, for the room was more
quiet now. "What should you have said, Charlie?"

"Let Bunny and me," corrected Charlie.

"That's right. Always speak of yourself last. It is more polite. Well, I
think you and Bunny may take the parrot back to Mr. Winkler," went on
the teacher. "Certainly we don't want him in our class, though he seems
a bright bird."

"You ought to see Wango, the monkey, climb!" cried fat Bobbie Boomer,
and all the other children laughed. "He's great!"

"Well, I think a parrot is enough for one day," remarked Miss Bradley,
with a smile. "Take Polly home, Bunny and Charlie."

"Just see, Teacher, he's tame and he knows me," Bunny said, stroking
Polly's head, a caress the parrot seemed to like. Polly perched herself
on Bunny's shoulder, and then he and Charlie went out, envied by the
other pupils.

"Oh that bird! Out again!" cried Miss Winkler, when Polly was restored
to her. "I declare, I'll make Jed get rid of her and Wango! They're more
bother than they're worth!"

"I'll take 'em if you don't want 'em!" offered Charlie Star.

"So will I!" said Bunny.

But as Miss Winkler usually made this threat three or four times a week
(or every time the monkey or parrot got loose), and as Mr. Winkler had
never yet given them away, it did not seem likely that he would do so
now. So Bunny and Charlie had small hopes of owning either pet.

The boys went back to school, passing, on their way, the store of Mrs.
Golden.

"Let's go in," suggested Charlie. "I want to buy a top!"

"All right," agreed Bunny.

"Well, boys, what can I sell you to-day?" asked Mrs. Golden, coming out
from the little back room where she generally sat when there were no
customers to wait on.

"Got any tops?" asked Charlie.

"A few," Mrs. Golden answered, "but not many. I'm going to have a new
lot in next week. Good day, Bunny," she went on. "Did your mother like
that baking powder?"

"I guess so," Bunny answered. Then he and Charlie began looking at the
tops. But the kind Charlie wanted was not in the case, and after looking
at several Charlie decided not to buy any.

"Here's a tin automobile I'm selling cheap," said Mrs. Golden, taking a
red toy out from another case. "It's the last one I have, and I'll sell
it to you for