"Didn't you tell Bunny never to make a bob?" asked Sue, as Daddy Brown took his key from his pocket to open the door.
"I don't know that I did," was the answer. "Still if it is dangerous to make bobs I wish neither you nor Bunny to do it."
"Oh, it's lots of fun," Bunny said. "And my nose doesn't hurt much now. What's in the box, Daddy?" he asked.
"I'll show you in a minute," Mr. Brown promised. "It is something very nice."
"Candy?" cried Sue, who had more than one "sweet tooth," I think.
"No, not candy," her father teased. "You'll soon see."
He went into the house with the children, and as soon as Mrs. Brown saw Bunny she knew what had happened; at least she knew his nose had bled.
"Did you have a tumble?" she asked.
"He was in a bob and it broke and he was run over!" cried Sue, who seemed anxious to do all the telling.
"Well, I'm glad it was no worse," said Mother Brown. "What's this?" she asked, as her husband handed her the box. "For me?"