“And we ought to get the other boys and girls to go there,” Sue said.

“We will, after a while,” agreed Bunny.  “Just now we have to do something else.”

And the something else had to do with his idea and the time he and Sue spent in the barn.  With them, most of the time, was Splash, their dog, and Charlie Star often came over with a covered basket.

“What do you think the children are doing?” asked Mrs. Brown of Mary, the cook, one day.

“Oh, I guess they’re getting up some kind of a show,” Mary answered.  “I can hear Splash barking now and then, and there’s a cat mewing.”

“Cat!” exclaimed Mrs. Brown.  “We haven’t a cat!”

“I guess it’s Charlie Star’s,” went on the cook.  “He brings it over every day in a basket and takes it home again.  I guess they’re getting ready for a show.”

“Bunny and Sue did have a show once,” observed Mrs. Brown.  “I hardly believe they would get up another.  I must see what they are up to.”

However, as company came just then and Mrs. Brown had to entertain them, she forgot all about her two children.  Meanwhile things were happening out in the barn.

But Bunny and Sue kept it a secret, in which only Charlie Star had a share, and Charlie did not tell.  When Mrs. Brown’s company had left some one telephoned to her and she forgot all about her plan to ask Bunny what was going on.

It was a few days after this that Bunny and Sue were again sent to the store for their mother, and you may easily guess to which store they went—­the little corner one, of course.

Mrs. Golden was sitting in her usual easy chair, and there were no other customers in the place.

“How’s business?” asked Bunny, as he had often heard men ask his father.

“It might be better and not hurt itself,” was Mrs. Golden’s answer.  “Customers are few and far between.”

“Mrs. Golden,” said Bunny, “my Uncle Tad says you ought to have a special sale.  Did you ever have one?”

“Oh, yes, years ago,” she answered.  “I had a sale of notions, and a number of women came in to get things to make dresses with.  But I haven’t had a special sale for a long while.”

“Why don’t you, then?” asked Bunny eagerly.  “I think a special grocery sale would be good.  You could put a lot of things in your window and mark the prices on them, and people would come in to buy.”

“Yes, I suppose I could do that,” agreed Mrs. Golden slowly.  “I have a big stock of a new kind of oatmeal on hand.  Some new concern sold it to me, but it didn’t take very well.  Lately I got a letter from them saying I could sell it at a special price.  I suppose that would bring in some trade.  I never thought of it.  I’m getting too old, I guess, and worrying too much.  When my son Philip comes home I’ll have a special sale.”

“No, don’t wait!” cried Bunny Brown eagerly.  “Let’s have it now!  Where are those oatmeal things?”