“Yes, I got a riddle,” Laddie announced. “’Tisn’t very good, but maybe I can think of a better one after a while. This is it. Why is a police station like a candy shop?”
“Ha! Ha!” laughed the sergeant. “That may be a riddle, but I can’t see it. Nothing could be more different than a candy store and this police station.”
“Yes, there’s something alike in each of them,” went on Laddie. “Do you all give up?” he asked. “Can you tell why a police station is like a candy shop?”
“Is it because when people are brought here they have to stick?” asked Adam.
“Ha! Ha! That’s pretty good!” laughed the sergeant. “I’d never think of that myself! Pretty good! A police station is like a candy shop because people have to stick here! And it’s true! They do have to stick if we arrest them and put them in a cell. And if there’s sticky candy on the floor of a candy shop they’d stick there. Pretty good!”
“No, that isn’t the reason,” said Laddie. “Listen. I’ll tell you. A police station is like a candy shop because it’s full of sticks. Sticks, you know—the policemen’s clubs. They’re like sticks of candy, you know!”
“Ha! Ha!” laughed the sergeant again. “That’s pretty good! I must remember that to tell the captain. Well, good night to you,” he added, as Mr. Bunker led Laddie out, thanking the sergeant and his men for having entertained and kept the little boy.
On the way home in the automobile Mr. Bunker said Laddie should not have slipped off and gone down the street to the police station without telling some one about it.
“We were all worried, Laddie,” went on his father.
“I’m sorry,” the little fellow said. “I won’t do it again. But I got to thinking I could make up a good riddle about a policeman, and I thought it would be better if I could see one before I made the riddle, so I just went.”