George. Kid, what is there you'd most like to have? Got a baseball outfit—bat—ball—mask—mit?

Bobbie. Dad's going to give me one next birthday. That's in May.

George. That's so. It's a little late in the season for baseball, isn't it? And football too, I suppose. How about a sled. Have you got a good coaster?

Bobbie. Yes, I got one last Christmas. She's a dandy too. Wish it would snow pretty soon.

George. It will, and freeze, too. Suppose you have skates?

Bobbie. Yes, but they buckle on with straps!

George. With straps! Why, a kid your size ought to have a pair of real skates.

Bobbie. That's what I say. Shoe skates. But Dad says not till my feet stop growing.

George (puts hand in pocket and brings out a bill). Do you know what that is?

Bobbie. Sure I know what that is.

George. Could we get a pair of skates for that?

Bobbie. I should say we could.

George. All right, Bobbie, I'll make a bargain with you. If you are willing to sell this gun—and you might throw in that hat, too—I'll give you this bill.

Bobbie. Sell my gun?