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?