“Hi there!  Get down out of that!” cried Miss Winkler.  “The idea of you daring to take my cookies!  Get out of here!  You tramp!”

And the green parrot, in his cage hanging in the kitchen, cried in his shrill voice: 

“No tramps allowed!  Out you go!  Sic him, Towser!  Bow wow!”

Bunny, Sue, Mart, and Lucile hurried into the kitchen after Miss Winkler.  They saw her quickly take a broom from a corner.

And then, as the sailor’s sister ran around in front of the chair, on which the old man tramp seemed to be standing, she gave a scream.

“Wango!  You good-for-nothing monkey you!” cried Miss Winkler.  “The idea of pretending you were a tramp!  I’ve a good notion to take this broom to you, anyhow!”

There was a chatter from the chair and the gray head dropped down out of sight.

“Oh, was it Wango?” cried Bunny Brown.

“Indeed it was!” said Miss Winkler.  “The idea of his fooling us all like that!”

“But he looked just like an old man with gray hair,” said Sue.

“Indeed he did,” chimed in Mart and Lucile Clayton.

Just then Mr. Treadwell came through the hall into the kitchen.

“It’s no use, Miss Winkler,” he said.  “I can’t find my big wig anywhere.  If I use one like if in the play I’ll have to send to New York for another.  My wig is lost.”

“No, it isn’t, either!” exclaimed Miss Winkler.  “There it is—­on Wango!”

She pointed to the monkey, which, just then, ran around from behind the chair on which he had been standing.  And, surely enough Wango had on the big, white wig for which Mr. Treadwell and Miss Winkler had been searching so long.  The wig made Wango look like an old man.

“And he has on one of my jackets, too!” exclaimed the actor.  “It’s one I use in some of my stage plays, children, where I have to have a very short, little jacket.  No wonder you thought a tramp was in Miss Winkler’s kitchen!  Wango, are you trying to be an impersonator, such as I used to be?” asked Mr. Treadwell, laughing and shaking his finger at Mr. Jed Winkler’s monkey.

Wango made a funny little chattering noise, and took off the wig, which he held out to the actor.

“See, he’s saying he’s sorry!” exclaimed Lucile.

Next Wango took off the jacket.  It was one of the costumes Mr. Treadwell used on the stage.

“I guess he won’t dress up again,” said Mart.  “I didn’t know he was such a performer.”

“Oh, Wango is a regular pest for playing tricks!” said Miss Winkler.  “I tell Jed, every day, that I won’t have the monkey around any longer, but I always give in and let him stay.  Now if he was as nice and quiet as the parrot it would be all right.”

And just then the parrot began to screech and to cry: 

“No tramps allowed!  Sic ’em, Towser!”

Really the parrot made more noise than Wango, but Miss Winkler did not seem to think so.