kids!) so both took a walk to City Hall to hunt up a Councilman or two. Finding four in a Council room, Gadsby said:—
“Youth, or, I should say, childhood, has just shown that Branton Hills is shy on a most important acquisition,” and Old Bill Simpkins just had to blurt out:—
“And, naturally, it calls for cash! CASH! CASH! CASH!! What will this town amount to if it blows in dollars so fast?”
“And,” said Gadsby, “what will it amount to, if it don’t?”
That put a gag on Old Bill. Councilman Banks, though, was curious to know about Marian’s proposition, saying:—
“It is probably a plan for buying Christmas toys for all Branton Hills kids.”
But tiny Marian, with a vigorous stamp of a tiny foot, swung right back with:—
“NO, SIR!! Santa Claus will bring us our gifts! But I thought of having a—what did you call it, Mayor Gadsby?”
“This child thinks Branton Hills should build an airport, and I think so, too. If our inhabitants, such as this tot, can think up such things, all adults should pack up, and vanish from municipal affairs. All right, Marian; our City Council, your City
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