"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 her. Bunny and me, we found a dog, and Henry made us tie him down in the hall to feed him."