rriage," said Sunny Boy, calling Mother's attention to
a queer looking vehicle on two wheels and drawn by a bob-tailed horse,
which was the first thing he saw when they got out on the street.
"Look where the coachman is."

The driver was perched up on a little seat behind and held the reins
over the roof of the coach.

"That's a hansom cab," explained Mrs. Horton. "They were very popular
and stylish before the automobile came."

Privately Sunny Boy thought it wasn't very handsome, and the poor old
horse was no longer stylish if he had ever been, but there was little
time to think about hansom cabs, for just then Mother remarked:

"Here's the big store where they have such a wonderful toy
department."

It was a big store, much larger than any Sunny Boy had ever seen in
Centronia, and it seemed filled with people to him.

"Oh, Mother!" he stopped so short that several people nearly fell over
him, "what's that?"

"That" was a long shining moving thing on which people were being
wafted gently upward. It reminded Sunny Boy of the fairy tale he had
seen in the motion picture where the Wishing Girl who wanted to fly
was suddenly granted her wish.

"Where do they go?" Sunny Boy asked so loudly that a floor-man heard
and answered him.

"That's an escalator," he announced, much as one might say: "That's a
strawberry."

"It's a moving stairway, precious," added his mother. "I suppose you
want to ride on it. Well, first I must get Daddy some handkerchiefs,
for we never packed him a one. And we'll find out on which floor the
toys are, too."

Sunny Boy waited patiently while the handkerchiefs were bought, and
then while Mother chose a new veil, a pretty white one with black
dots.

"Here are the post-cards, Sunny," she said, turning into another
aisle. "See which ones you want for Ruth and Nelson."

"What do they say, Mother?" asked Sunny Boy, wishing he could read.
"May I send all the boys some?"

Mrs. Horton said he could, and she helped him select a dozen views of
New York, promising that he should print his name on each one and
that she would write whatever messages he wanted sent.

"You can look them over this afternoon," she suggested, "and see what
places you want to see first. That will be nice, won't it?"

"Yes, Mother," agreed Sunny Boy. "And now can we ride on the
alligator?"

"The escalator?" corrected Mother, laughing heartily. "Why yes, I
think we are about ready to do that. The girl at the handke