Max and I and the T. rex were on TV six times. I was glad when it came to an end. Af-ter you smile and wave a fork six times. it gets to be less fun.

One morning, Nan handed me a book and said, “Let's drive to the book shop.”

“Nan,” I said, “why do you need to get a book at the book shop when you have this one?”

“I just finished that one.” Nan said. “I liked it a lot. And it just so happens that the man who wrote it will be at the book shop to-day. I'd lke to meet him.”

In the car I looked at the book. It said “Dust Up, by Stan Bender.”

“What sort of book is this?” I asked.
“It's a western,” said Nan.
“What's a western?”
“It's a book set out here in the West.” “Is there an outlaw in the book like Bart?”

“What sort of book is this?” I asked.
“It's a western,” said Nan.
“What's a western?”
“It's a book set out here in the West.” “Is there an outlaw in the book like Bart?”

“There’s an outlaw,” said Nan, “but he’s not like Bart.”

“Why not?”
“He has bad manners!” said Nan.

I Looked at the last page and saw the page number: 305.

“Yikes!” I said. “This is a long book!”

“It is,” said Nan. “But it felt short fo me because I liked it so much. I was sad when I got to the end!”

I started to look inside the book, but just then Nan said, “Here we are!”