his duty to think of them, and to worry about them, if any worry
was necessary. But Toole did not worry. He sat down and wrote a
letter to his cousin Dennis, official keeper of the zoo in
Idlewild Park at Franklin, Iowa.


"Dear Dennis," he wrote. "Have you any dongola goats in your
menagery for I want two right away good strong ones answer right
away your affectionate cousin alderman Michael Toole."

"Ps monny no object."


When Dennis Toole received this letter he walked through his
zoo and considered his animals thoughtfully. The shop-worn brown
bear would not do to fill cousin Mike's order; neither would the
weather-worn red deer nor the family of variegated tame rabbits.
The zoo of Idlewild Park at Franklin was woefully short of
dongola goats--in fact, to any but the most imaginative and
easily pleased child, it was lacking in nearly every thing that
makes a zoo a congress of the world's most rare and thrilling
creatures. After all, the nearest thing to a goat was a goat, and
goats were plenty in Franklin. Dennis felt an irresistible
longing to aid Mike--the longing that comes to any healthy man
when a request is accompanied by the legend "Money no object." He
wrote that evening to Mike.


"Dear Mike," he wrote. "I've got two good strong dongola goats
I can let you have cheap. I'm overstocked with dongolas to-day. I