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Sunny Boy at the Seashore | Project Gutenberg
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<body>
<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUNNY BOY AT THE SEASHORE ***</div>
<div class="figcenter" style="width: 85%">
<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Cover">
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="frontis" style="max-width: 48.9375em;">
<img class="w100" src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="">
<figcaption class="caption"><p class="center no-indent">“Ralph!” gasped Sunny Boy. “Look! My boat’s untied!”</p>
<p class="right">
(<em>See Page <a href="#Page_190">190</a></em>)
</p>
</figcaption>
</figure>
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter pageborder">
<h1>
SUNNY BOY<br>
AT THE SEASHORE</h1>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent">
<span class="fs80">BY</span><br>
<span class="fs120">RAMY ALLISON WHITE</span><br>
<span class="fs70">Author of<br>
“<span class="smcap">Sunny Boy in the Country,” “Sunny<br>
Boy at the Seashore,” ETC.</span></span><br>
<br>
<br>
<span class="fs80"><em>ILLUSTRATED BY</em></span><br>
<span class="fs120"><em>CHARLES L. WRENN</em></span><br></p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent fs130">GROSSET & DUNLAP<br>
PUBLISHERS <span style="padding-left: 2em">NEW YORK</span><br>
</p>
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent fs90">
Copyright, 1920<br>
By<br>
<span class="smcap">Barse & Co.</span><br></p>
<hr class="r10">
<p class="center no-indent fs90"><span class="smcap">Sunny Boy at the Seashore</span><br>
<br>
<br>
<em>Printed in the United States of America</em><br>
</p>
</div>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2>
</div>
<table class="autotable" style="width: 85%">
<tr>
<td class="tdr fs60">CHAPTER</td>
<td class="tdl"></td>
<td class="tdr fs60">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">I</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">An Unexpected Ride</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">II</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ending a Busy Day</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">III</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Getting Ready</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IV</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Helping Here and There</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">V</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Sunny Boy’s Surprise</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VI</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">On the Way</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VII</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Day with Daddy</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">VIII</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Making New Friends</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">IX</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Fort Builders</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">X</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Marshmallow Roast</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_131">131</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XI</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Sunny Boy to the Rescue</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XII</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Sunny Boy Is Naughty</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIII</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Curly Is Found</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XIV</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Lost on the Ocean</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_181">181</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">XV</td>
<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Happy Ending</span></td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_199">199</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<h2 class="nobreak" id="ILLUSTRATIONS">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
</div>
<table class="autotable" style="width: 100%">
<tr>
<td class="tdl">“Ralph!” gasped Sunny Boy. “Look! My boat’s untied!”</td>
<td class="tdr fs90"><a href="#frontis"><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl"></td>
<td class="tdr fs60">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Upstairs Sunny Boy found his toys exactly as he had left them</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#p054">55</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Sunny Boy crawled carefully through the doorway of the fort</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#p118">119</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Sunny Boy’s horse went up and down—in time to the music</td>
<td class="tdr"><a href="#p160">161</a></td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p>
<p class="center no-indent fs150 wsp">SUNNY BOY AT THE<br>
SEASHORE</p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I<br>
<span class="fs80">AN UNEXPECTED RIDE</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“Oh</span>, Ruth! Oh, Nelson! O-hoo!”
Sunny Boy puckered up his mouth
and tried his best to whistle, but he couldn’t
quite manage it.</p>
<p>“Ru-th! Nelson!” he shouted again.
“Come on over! I want to tell you something!”</p>
<p>Then up the steps from the laundry in
the basement of their house, where they had
been hunting string for a kite, came Nelson
and Ruth Baker, who lived next door.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy stood in the gateway his father
had cut in the fence between the two yards
and danced up and down impatiently.</p>
<p>“Hurry up!” he urged them. “Listen!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>
We’re going to the seashore day after to-morrow!
Mother said so.”</p>
<p>Nelson sat down comfortably on the grass.
He was rather a fat boy.</p>
<p>“We’re going to the mountains to visit
my grandmother, next week,” he said.
“But you just got back from being away.”</p>
<p>And indeed Sunny Boy and his mother
had returned the night before from a long
visit with Sunny’s Grandpa Horton who
lived on a beautiful farm.</p>
<p>Little Ruth Baker, who was only four
years old, beamed cheerfully at Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“We went to the seashore while you were
gone,” she informed him. “The water was
very wet. I went paddling, but Nelson
wore a bathing suit.”</p>
<p>“I’ve a bathing suit, too,” announced
Sunny Boy. “The brook at Grandpa’s was
too cold, so I didn’t wear it. But I’m going
to learn to swim down at Nestle Cove.
Daddy’s going to teach me.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span></p>
<p>Nelson looked up from straightening out
the tangle of string.</p>
<p>“Did you sleep on the train going to your
grandpa’s?” he asked. “We have to stay
two nights, an’ eat and sleep an’ everything
on the train before we get to my grandma’s.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy, stretched full length in his
express wagon, kicked his heels excitedly.</p>
<p>“We ate on the train,” he said eagerly.
“But—what you think?—we’re going to
Nestle Cove in Daddy’s new automobile!”</p>
<p>“I saw it out in front yesterday,” Nelson
volunteered. “It’s a nice big one. I’ll bet
I could most run one!”</p>
<p>“P’haps,” admitted Sunny Boy doubtfully.
“Anyway, you have to be grown-up
before they let you—Daddy said so.
Mother’s going, an’ Harriet, an’ Aunt Bessie
and Miss Mart’son.” Sunny Boy
meant Miss Martinson, a school teacher and
Aunt Bessie’s best friend, but his tongue had
a trick of skipping letters when he pronounced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>
long words. “And Aunt Bessie has
a house with a big porch, and she says I can
sleep in a hammock like a sailor if I want
to. An’ I’m going to make a fish pond in the
sand.”</p>
<p>“Look out you don’t get scared by a crab,”
Nelson advised him. “Ruth did. She
screamed and screamed. I went fishing
with my daddy on a great long pier, but we
didn’t catch anything.”</p>
<p>“I saved all the pebbles,” Ruth began
hopefully.</p>
<p>“I went fishing in the brook.” Sunny
Boy was forgetting that it isn’t polite to interrupt
another.</p>
<p>“I got so sunburned it all peeled off, and
then—” Nelson was eager to tell his experiences,
too.</p>
<p>“My goodness, children, how you do chatter!”
Mrs. Baker opened the gate in the
fence and beckoned smilingly to her youngsters.
“Hello, Sunny dear. Glad to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>
home again? Ruth, Mother needs you now
to try on the new frock, and, Nelson, you’ll
have to go to the store for me. Come right
away, dears—you’ll see Sunny again before
he goes away.”</p>
<p>Nelson gathered up his string obediently
and trotted through the gate. Ruth slipped
her hand into her mother’s and followed him.
Left alone, Sunny Boy wiggled to a more
comfortable position in his wagon and gave
himself up to pleasant thoughts of the coming
trip.</p>
<p>“Look here, Sunny Boy, your brains will
be absolutely baked!” Aunt Bessie descended
on him from the back porch. “My
dear child, this yard is the warmest place in
the city in the morning. Your mother
asked me to see what you were doing. Why
don’t you go out in front and play where it
is shady?”</p>
<p>“With you?” asked Sunny Boy happily.</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie sat down on one end of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>
wagon which tipped perilously, and hugged
him.</p>
<p>“No, lambie, not with me,” she answered.
“I must run home and help Harriet pack another
box, and then I am to meet Betty
Martinson and buy a porch swing. After
that, let’s see—after that I have to give a
little girl a music lesson. But when we get
to the seashore I’ll play with you.”</p>
<p>“All right,” agreed Sunny Boy sensibly.
“But couldn’t you stay a minute, Auntie?”</p>
<p>“Not half a minute, honey.” Aunt Bessie
rose and smoothed out her pretty blue
linen frock. “You run along now and don’t
go far away, because it will be lunch time
before you know it.”</p>
<p>A big black ant crawled across the cement
walk at Sunny’s feet.</p>
<p>“I wonder what Jimmie is doing now?”
said Sunny Boy aloud, remembering how
careful Jimmie always was not to step on
the tiniest ant.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span></p>
<p>Jimmie was the nineteen year old boy who
helped Grandpa Horton farm in summer
and who went to an agricultural college in
winter. Sunny Boy and he had grown to
be great friends during the month Sunny
and his mother had spent at Brookside, which
was the name of the farm where Grandpa
and Grandma Horton lived.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was named for his grandfather,
“Arthur Bradford Horton,” as you
may have read in my first book about him
called, “Sunny Boy in the Country.” His
father and mother called him “Sunny Boy”
because he was usually such a cheerful laddie.
Even when he got into scrapes—and
in the month he spent at the farm he lost his
grandfather’s Liberty Bonds and had a horse
run away with him—the troubles were somehow
straightened out for him and left him
smiling again.</p>
<p>Now he and his mother had left Brookside
and dear Grandpa and Grandma Horton,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>
and with Daddy Horton had come back
to their city home to get ready for a visit to
the seashore. Aunt Bessie, who was Mrs.
Horton’s sister, and her friend Miss Martinson
had rented a bungalow at Nestle Cove,
and they wanted Sunny Boy and his mother
to come and stay with them.</p>
<p>The sun was blazing down into the back
yard, and it really was very hot. Sunny
Boy took his wagon down the laundry steps
into the house, stopping for a moment to get
a drink of water at the sink, on through the
front basement hall and up the steps out
into the street.</p>
<p>“Well, well, you back?” The postman,
on the steps of the Bakers’ house, smiled at
him. “Have a nice time?”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” said Sunny Boy, with satisfaction.
“An’ day after to-morrow Daddy’s going
to take us in the auto to Nestle Cove.”</p>
<p>“Well, you <em>are</em> having a fine summer,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>
replied the postman heartily. “Don’t get
so tanned that, when you come back, I might
take you for a little chocolate boy, will
you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, no,” Sunny assured him. “I don’t
mean to.”</p>
<p>Whistling pleasantly, the postman went
on up the street, and Sunny Boy, pushing his
wagon idly back and forth by the tongue,
thought that when he grew up he would be a
postman too.</p>
<p>“But I don’t know whether I’d like to be
a postman in the city where I’d see a lot of
people and know such a lot of children, or be
one in the country, like the postman that
comes to Brookside farm, and ride around all
day in a buggy. That would be fun. I
could know children in the country, too.
There was an awful lot of Hatch children,
seven of them.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was thinking of the children<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>
of the tenant who lived on Grandpa’s farm,
and with whom he played while he was visiting
at Brookside.</p>
<p>“’Lo!” called the girl across the street,
sweeping the pavement.</p>
<p>“Hello!” responded Sunny politely.</p>
<p>She had red hair and that reminded him
of Araminta, the little girl at Grandpa Horton’s
house. He wished Araminta lived in
the city where he could see her every day.
Sunny Boy, you will perceive, had what his
Aunt Bessie called a “wishing fit” this summer
morning.</p>
<p>“Out of my way, kid!” A thin, freckle-faced
boy with the lightest hair and eyebrows
Sunny Boy had ever seen leaped from the
laundry wagon that drew up to the curb.
“Haven’t any time to fool this morning.
This 266 Glenn Avenue? Yep? Well,
hustle now and don’t keep me waiting for
those shirts to be done up. Rush order, too,
it is.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy had a dim idea that this boy
was poking fun at him, and he frowned a
little. But Mrs. Horton had heard through
the screen door, and she came, bringing the
package of shirts.</p>
<p>“Are you sure they will be returned to-morrow?”
she asked anxiously. “We leave
early Thursday morning.”</p>
<p>“Oh, they’ll be ready in plenty of time,”
said the boy reassuringly. “Don’t you
worry—the Star Laundry never breaks its
word; we can’t afford to.”</p>
<p>He ran down the walk, tossed the package
into the back of the wagon, and hurried
across the street to another house.</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton laughed.</p>
<p>“What a very important young man!” she
said. “Well, Sunny Boy, are you having a
good time? Where are Ruth and Nelson?”</p>
<p>“They had to go in,” answered Sunny
Boy. “Mother, could I get an ice-cream
cone?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span></p>
<p>“Not before lunch, dear,” decided Mrs.
Horton. “Now I have to finish the mending.
Keep out of the sun, won’t you? It’s
one of the warmest days we’ve had.”</p>
<p>She closed the screen door and Sunny returned
to his express wagon.</p>
<p>“I could tie it on back,” he said aloud.</p>
<p>The laundry wagon was still standing
where the freckle-faced boy had left it, and
the horse was slowly but surely going to
sleep, “right in his tracks,” as Harriet would
have said had she been there to see. His
head kept nodding lower and lower, and
Sunny Boy privately decided that the only
thing that kept it from hitting the asphalt
was the big round collar the horse wore.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy got up from the step and
walked down to the wagon, dragging his express
cart behind him. He had often seen
other boys tie their toy wagons on behind
real wagons, and he knew exactly how it was
done.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span></p>
<p>“I’ll just pretend,” he told himself, glancing
up at the windows of the house uneasily.
“I won’t really go for a ride.”</p>
<p>There was no one to see him knot the rope
firmly and make the express cart fast to the
laundry wagon. He climbed in and had a
blissfully thrilling moment making believe
that he was part of an express train.</p>
<p>“I’ll be the baggage car,” he thought.
“Toot! Toot!”</p>
<p>Then from across the street came whirling
the breezy laundry-wagon boy. This time
he had no parcel, but leaped into his seat and
took up the reins without going round to the
back of his wagon.</p>
<p>“Gid-ap, Lazy-Bones!” he cried to the
sleepy horse. “What do you think this is—a
cab-stand? Gid-ap!”</p>
<p>And Sunny Boy and his wagon moved
gently off down the street.</p>
<p>He could easily have tumbled out, but
that would mean to lose his wagon. And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>
the laundry boy was whistling so shrilly
through his teeth that there was no hope of
being able to make him hear, even if he
called out. Besides, Sunny Boy thought
that he might very likely be cross and scold
about small boys hitching to his wagon.</p>
<p>“I—I—don’t believe Mother would like
it,” said poor Sunny Boy forlornly, as the
horse broke into a gentle trot.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II<br>
<span class="fs80">ENDING A BUSY DAY</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“I know</span> my mother wouldn’t like it,”
said Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>The laundry wagon horse was galloping
now, urged on by the freckle-faced boy who
was singing loudly as the light wagon
swayed from side to side. Sunny Boy
looked very little and frightened trailing on
in his wagon behind.</p>
<p>A big brown dog bounced out at him and
barked madly.</p>
<p>“Go ’way!” cried Sunny, for the dog reminded
him of the fairy-tale wolf with very
white teeth and such a red mouth. “Go
’way, old dog!”</p>
<p>Slish! the laundry wagon swerved to avoid<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>
another wagon, and Sunny Boy nearly
tumbled out. An old gentleman stood
on the sidewalk and brandished his cane at
him.</p>
<p>“Hi, you!” he called, “don’t you know
you’re likely to be killed? Why don’t the
policemen—”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy couldn’t hear the rest of what
he said, but, looking back, he saw the old
gentleman still standing on the walk shaking
his cane angrily.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was more than willing to let
go, but he didn’t see how he could. They
were nearing the end of the street now, and
the houses were fewer with more ground between.</p>
<p>“Look behind!” an ice-man delivering ice
called to the laundry boy, at the same time
pointing to the back of the wagon.</p>
<p>The laundry boy may have looked, but of
course he couldn’t see Sunny’s wagon from
where he sat, and he apparently had no intention<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>
of stopping his horse to see if any one
was stealing a “hitch.” Instead he brought
the whip down smartly, and the horse leaped
forward with a sudden jerk that made Sunny’s
neck snap.</p>
<p>“My land!” poor Sunny gasped.</p>
<p>It was an expression he had learned from
the red-haired Araminta.</p>
<p>Goodness knows what might have happened
if they had had to turn a corner, or
if the rope hadn’t broken. But break it did,
and Sunny Boy and the laundry wagon
parted company just as they came opposite
to a vacant lot. Sunny’s wagon shot off to
one side and, as there was no pavement and
no curbing, the wagon kept going until it
brought up in a clump of elderberry bushes.</p>
<p>“Hurt you, kid?” and a man who had seen
him came running across the street.
“That’s a mighty dangerous way to play,
and the littler you are the worse it is. I
suppose you’ve seen the big boys do it.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>
Take my advice and leave wagons alone
after this.”</p>
<p>As he talked, he lifted Sunny and the express
wagon out of the bushes, brushed
Sunny Boy off neatly. He now stood smiling
down at him so good-naturedly that it
was impossible to keep from smiling back.</p>
<p>“I thought you was scolding,” said Sunny
Boy, in whose experience people never
smiled when they scolded.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy suddenly remembered that
Aunt Bessie always made big round eyes and
a round mouth and held up her hands whenever
he said “you was,” and that his mother
always looked at him and shook her head
just the very least possible bit. But never
mind; it was too late to go back and say it
differently now, and besides he must hurry
on and explain to this nice man who was
smiling down at him.</p>
<p>“It didn’t hurt me, but one wheel’s bent,”
he said.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span></p>
<p>“That’s where it skidded across the
street,” explained the man, bending down to
examine the wagon. “Not worth mentioning,
though. I’m thankful it wasn’t your
leg that was bent. Now don’t you think
you’d better call it a day and go home?”</p>
<p>Sunny was willing enough to go home,
though he didn’t know what the man meant
by calling it a day.</p>
<p>“I mean that one such adventure’s enough
for a morning,” smiled the new friend, as he
saw that Sunny Boy looked puzzled.</p>
<p>Sunny agreed to this, and they shook
hands gravely and the man went on down
the street and Sunny and his express wagon
headed for home.</p>
<p>He found his mother getting lunch, and
she was very glad to see him because, as she
said, she was lonesome.</p>
<p>“We’ll have to hurry,” she greeted him
when he had put the express wagon in the
back yard and found her in the kitchen.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>
“Daddy is coming home at half-past one to
help get us ready to go. Have you washed
your hands, dear? Well, then you and I
will have our bread and milk right here on
the kitchen table.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy enjoyed this. Mrs. Horton
spread a little white cloth at one end of the
table and they had bread and milk and cold
boiled eggs and four chocolate cookies—two
apiece—just like a picnic. The kitchen was
the only room in the house that seemed
natural to Sunny, anyway. The house had
been shut all the time they were staying at
Grandpa Horton’s, and as they were only
going to be home two days before going
to the seashore Mrs. Horton said it was
not worth while to unwrap or unpack anything.</p>
<p>“Now we’ll wash the dishes,” declared
Mother, when they had finished their lunch.
“Then I’ll go upstairs and darn socks while
you watch at the window for Daddy. Poor<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>
Daddy! No one mended his socks for him
while we were gone.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy helped Mother carry the milk
and the butter back to the ice-box, and dried
the dishes as she washed them. Then he
ran down into the yard and hung up the
scalded tea towels for her.</p>
<p>“Daddy says little boys can help most as
much as little girls,” said Sunny seriously,
watching Mother put the glass pitcher on
the high shelf that he hadn’t been able to
reach. “When Harriet isn’t here, do I help,
Mother?”</p>
<p>“Precious,” Mother assured him, giving
him a bear hug, “you help me every minute
of the day, whether Harriet is here or not.
And when you’re a man I won’t be any more
proud of you than I am right now.”</p>
<p>They went upstairs, Mrs. Horton to darn
the neglected socks, and Sunny to watch for
Daddy and the new car.</p>
<p>“Here he is! I’ll open the door! O-hoo,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>
Daddy!” Sunny Boy saw the dark blue
car draw up before the house and stop, and
he banged noisily on the window screen to
attract his father’s attention. Then he
dashed downstairs.</p>
<p>“Well, well, who’s this young cyclone?”
inquired Mr. Horton, catching Sunny Boy
in his arms and lifting him to his shoulder.
“Saw me drive up, didn’t you? Where’s
Mother?”</p>
<p>“Upstairs. Daddy, let’s go out in the
automobile! Where you going to keep it?
Can I drive?” Sunny bounced about excitedly
as he put his questions one after another.</p>
<p>“Easy, easy,” protested Mr. Horton.
“The automobile will be an old story fast
enough. Let me have a word with Mother
and then perhaps you and I will have an
errand to do down town.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton smiled when she saw Sunny’s
flushed face.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span></p>
<p>“Some one is excited,” she teased.
“Well, Daddy dear, what did Bessie say
about the suitcase?”</p>
<p>“I called her up, but she wasn’t in,” answered
Mr. Horton. “Miss Martinson
seemed to think, though, that they’d better
have it. I’ll go up and drag it out now and
Sunny and I can run it over to her in the
car.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, let’s,” coaxed Sunny Boy, without
a very clear idea of what the talk was
about, but sure that a ride in the automobile
was in some way connected with it.</p>
<p>“Think you can come up to the store-room
with me and give me a hand?” asked his
father. “I have to get a suitcase for Aunt
Bessie, and I suppose it is under three trunks
with the empty goldfish globe on top.”</p>
<p>“Why, Daddy Horton, what a way to
talk!” Mrs. Horton pretended to be very
indignant. “The suitcase is the first thing
you’ll see when you open the door. I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>
thought we might need it before the summer
was over, so I left it where it would be easy
to get.”</p>
<p>Sure enough, Sunny and Daddy found the
suitcase without any trouble, and they
brought it downstairs and Mother dusted it
off, and then they carried it down to the automobile
and put it in the back.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy climbed into the car and sat
very still with his eyes straight ahead. He
hoped Nelson and Ruth Baker were watching
him. Mr. Horton walked around the
car to the other side, got in, and closed the
door. He waved to Mother in the window,
put both hands on the wheel, and away they
went.</p>
<p>“Can I help drive, going to Nestle Cove,
Daddy?” Sunny asked, watching carefully,
so that he might remember all the things he
saw Daddy do. “I drove Peter and Paul
for Grandpa.”</p>
<p>Peter and Paul were the farm horses.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span></p>
<p>“Well, you see, Sunny Boy,” Daddy explained,
skillfully steering the car around a
heavy coal truck, “automobiles are different
from horses. You can’t talk to them and
tell them what to do. You have to be older,
and stronger, and taller, to manage a machine.
See how constantly I have to use my
feet? You are not tall enough to reach the
brakes. And, anyway, the law says little
boys can’t drive cars, even to help their
daddies. They must be at least eighteen
years old.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I ’member, you told me,” said Sunny
sorrowfully.</p>
<p>Daddy never turned aside his questions
with an “Oh, you wouldn’t understand, wait
till you’re older” kind of answer, and Sunny
really was used to reasoning things out.</p>
<p>“I’ll carry the suitcase,” he offered, when
they came to Aunt Bessie’s house. “Let me
ring, Daddy.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie lived in an apartment house<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>
and the colored boy who answered the bell
knew Sunny very well indeed.</p>
<p>“Miss Andrew ain’t home,” he said.
“But Miss Martinson am. I’ll take you-all
up.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie was Miss Andrew, and of
course the colored boy couldn’t have known
much English grammar to say “ain’t.” Or,
perhaps, he forgot what his mother told him
about always saying “is not.” We’ll hope
you never do. Anyway, this boy had the
most delightful, rich, soft voice, and no matter
what he said it always sounded pleasant.</p>
<p>“How lovely of you!” Miss Martinson,
Aunt Bessie’s friend who lived with her and
helped keep house in the apartment, flung
open the door almost as soon as they lifted
the heavy old-fashioned knocker. “Come
right in. We have a bundle of things that
simply won’t go in the trunk and Bessie has
every suitcase packed so full now we’re in
despair.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span></p>
<p>Miss Martinson was little and dark and
pretty. She taught girls in a large public
school how to baste and hem and tuck and,
after a while, make dresses. She was a sewing
teacher.</p>
<p>Sunny and Mr. Horton couldn’t stay very
long because they knew that Mother at home
would be needing them. But before they
went, Sunny ran out to the kitchen to find
his dear Harriet.</p>
<p>“Here’s my own boy, bless his dear heart!”
and Harriet, whose eyes were as blue as
Sunny Boy’s, and who wore a blue dress that
just matched them and her usual big, white
apron—Harriet’s aprons were always whiter
than other people’s—swooped down upon
Sunny Boy and gave him a tremendous hug.
“Did you have a lovely time on the farm,
darlin’? And did you miss Harriet?
Never mind, we’re going to have a fine time
down at the sea. Think of it—you’ll be
sailing boats and going swimming and all!”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span></p>
<p>“Sunny, coming?” called Mr. Horton.</p>
<p>“Here, give this to your mother,” and
Harriet hastily put a square box into his
hands. “’Tis a cake I baked for the lunch
on the way down. I made two of ’em, one
for her and one for Miss Bessie.”</p>
<p>“Daddy,” Sunny Boy spoke for the first
time on the way home, holding the cake box
carefully on his lap, “how long does it take
to get to Nestle Cove?”</p>
<p>“Oh, about six or eight hours with fair
traveling,” answered Mr. Horton. “Why,
Son?”</p>
<p>“I was just thinking,” said Sunny.
“Harriet made a cake for us to eat on the
way.”</p>
<p>“And I suspect Mother will be busy all
day to-morrow putting up a picnic lunch for
us,” responded his father. “You see, we’ll
find a nice shady spot about noon when the
sun is too hot to make driving comfortable,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>
and we’ll sit down and rest on the grass and
eat all those good things up.”</p>
<p>“That will be fun,” agreed Sunny enthusiastically.
“There’s Mother waving to
us now. Does she want something,
Daddy?”</p>
<p>“Don’t get out,” called Mrs. Horton, hurrying
to them. “The laundryman telephoned
Mrs. Baker that their wagon has
been in an accident and the clothes are hopelessly
scattered. They want you to go down
and see if any of yours are missing.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III<br>
<span class="fs80">GETTING READY</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“Take</span> me with you, Daddy?” Sunny
Boy begged. “I could see the accident.”</p>
<p>“There’ll be nothing to see,” answered
Mr. Horton, smiling. “I’m only going to
the laundry office, and that wouldn’t interest
you. I think you’d better stay with
Mother and help her.”</p>
<p>“All right,” agreed Sunny Boy cheerfully,
climbing out of the car and holding the cake
box carefully right side up.</p>
<p>He and Mother went into the kitchen,
while Mr. Horton turned the car and went
off down the street.</p>
<p>“Gee!” exclaimed Sunny, watching<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>
Mother fill the tea kettle. “Gee! I guess
that laundry-wagon boy wishes he’d called
it a day.”</p>
<p>“Called it a day?” repeated Mrs. Horton,
puzzled. “What do you mean, dear? And
is it absolutely necessary that you use ‘gee’
twice in one sentence?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy admitted that it wasn’t.
Then, while they waited for the kettle to
boil, he told Mother about his morning adventure
and the man who had picked him out
of the bushes and advised him to call it a
day.</p>
<p>“Why, you might have been hurt!” said
Mrs. Horton seriously. “Don’t do that
again, Son. Probably the boy is a reckless
driver, or he wouldn’t have had this accident,
but no driver can watch out for little
folks who hitch on behind wagons. Now
we’ll set the table in the dining-room to-night,
and go out and wait for Daddy on the
front steps.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy helped Mother so well that the
table was set and everything in readiness
for supper and they had been out on the
front steps for nearly ten minutes before
they saw Mr. Horton coming around the
corner.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy ran to meet him.</p>
<p>“Did you walk?” he asked disappointedly.
“Where’s the automobile? Did you
scold the laundry-wagon boy?”</p>
<p>“I put the automobile to bed,” answered
Daddy, waving to Mother. “This fall,
perhaps, we can build a garage out back
of the house. I’ll see. But just now a
man named Mr. Taggart has to keep
the car at night for us. Did you help
Mother?”</p>
<p>“Indeed he did!” Mrs. Horton held
open the screen door for them to go in. “I
haven’t missed Harriet at all.”</p>
<p>At the supper table Sunny remembered
the accident again.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></p>
<p>“What did the laundry-wagon boy say?”
he asked his father.</p>
<p>“The poor chap’s in the hospital,” replied
Mr. Horton soberly. “Nothing more serious
than bad bruises, they say. I imagine,
from the way the superintendent talked,
that he’s been in pickles before this for careless
driving. There were half a dozen of us
there, reclaiming stuff. How many shirts
was I supposed to have in that bundle,
Olive?”</p>
<p>“Seven, and eleven collars,” said Mrs.
Horton promptly.</p>
<p>“Well, only six had my mark on ’em,” declared
Mr. Horton. “A number of bundles
were entirely missing, stolen during the excitement
of the crash they think, or hopelessly
torn and mangled. He drove right
into a big touring car, the police say.”</p>
<p>“I have to go over to Mrs. Baker’s,” announced
Mrs. Horton when supper was
finished. “You’ll go up with Sunny Boy,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>
won’t you, Harry? He must have a hot
bath.”</p>
<p>“It’s day yet,” protested Sunny Boy. “I
don’t have to go to bed till night.”</p>
<p>“Well, if you’re going to get up early in
the morning and help me pack stuff in the
car, I think you’d better have a nice, hot bath
and go to sleep as fast as you can. Of
course, if you are not going to get up in the
morning, and would rather stay down and
wash the dishes, why that’s another matter
entirely.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy giggled.</p>
<p>“I’ll bath me,” he decided. “You sit on
the hamper and watch, Daddy.”</p>
<p>Daddy did sit on the hamper and watch.
He also helped with the drying. Then he
pulled up the awnings all across the front
of the house so that the rooms would be cool
during the night. Then he found the
woolly dog, that hadn’t gone to the farm but
that was Sunny’s bedfellow when he was at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span>
home, and put him in bed with Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“Good night, laddie,” Daddy bent down
and kissed Sunny Boy. “If you wake up
first, come in and call me.”</p>
<p>When Sunny Boy opened his eyes it was
to find the sun streaming in the windows and
to hear the locusts singing away for dear
life. He got softly out of bed, tucked the
woolly dog under his arm, and paddled into
Daddy and Mother’s room. It was empty.</p>
<p>“Well, well, here he is!” There stood
Daddy in the doorway behind him. “Breakfast’s
almost ready, and we need a certain
young man to help us with the sliced peaches
and cream, to say nothing of the brown toast
Mother’s made for us. Come on, and see if
you can find the blue sailor suit on the little
rocking chair under the window nearest the
closet door.”</p>
<p>The lonesome feeling Sunny had had for
a moment when he found his father and
mother had gone downstairs ahead of him,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span>
went away, and he hurried to help Daddy
find the sailor suit. They knocked over so
many things in their search, and laughed so
much and made such a great deal of noise
that Mother came up and pretended to scold,
though really she came to find the suit, tie
the tie for Sunny, and brush his yellow hair.</p>
<p>“Now if you don’t come down to breakfast
this minute,” she told them when Sunny
Boy was as neat as neat could be—“well,
you can’t have any toast, that’s all!”</p>
<p>So they all three hurried down and found
plenty of toast; and very good it was, too.</p>
<p>“Each one must carry his plate out to the
kitchen,” ordered Mr. Horton, when they
had finished. “And then Sunny Boy and I
will go round and get the car. Whatever
you can pack to-day, Olive, will save us time
in the morning. I’d like to make an early
start, because I’m afraid we’re in for a hot
spell, and the earlier we get off, the more
comfortable we’ll be.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span></p>
<p>“The trunks are going this morning,”
said Mrs. Horton. “Bessie promised to get
theirs off, too. All I have to do—My dear
child, what are you going to do with that?”
she broke off.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy stood in the doorway, Harriet’s
cake on the best china cake-plate in his
hands. It was a cake with white icing and it
looked delicious.</p>
<p>“It’s to eat on the way,” explained Sunny
Boy. “Harriet said so. I was going to put
it in the automobile under the seat where it
wouldn’t get mussed.”</p>
<p>“But I’m going to put up a nice lunch for
us,” said Mother. “Harriet’s cake really
ought to be wrapped in wax paper, you
know, and go in a box. You shall fix it for
me this morning. Now run along with
Daddy, and bring our shiny new car around
for the bundles.”</p>
<p>Sunny met Mr. Taggart that morning.
He was a short, round man with little twinkling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>
blue eyes and he wore overalls that
were very black and greasy from the oil and
grease on the cars he took care of.</p>
<p>“I’ve got a little boy ’bout your age,” he
told Sunny. “You’re about five, aren’t
you? I thought so. Ted’s five and a half.
In you go! Ted’s a little heavier than you
are. He’s down in the country now, visiting
his grandma.”</p>
<p>Daddy started the car, and Sunny leaned
out to call back to Mr. Taggart.</p>
<p>“My grandma lives in the country,
too, and we’re going to the seashore to-morrow.”</p>
<p>Mr. Taggart waved his hand to show that
he heard and understood, and Daddy backed
the car out into the street.</p>
<p>“Let’s get Mother and go now,” suggested
Sunny. “Why is there always a lot to do
before we do anything, Daddy?”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton smiled.</p>
<p>“Well, most things that are worth while<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>
or give us lasting pleasure, laddie, require
work and effort,” he said. “You’ll find that
out as you go along. You see, we might go
this morning, but we’d have to come back in
a day or two for more clothes, or the swing, or
some of the other things Mother is busily
thinking of and packing up this morning.
And down at Nestle Cove, the man who
owns the cottage Aunt Bessie has rented is
opening it and cleaning it and putting it in
good order for us, so we’ll be comfortable the
rest of the summer. If he didn’t look at it
till ten or fifteen minutes before we were
due there, the roof might leak, or the rooms
be damp and dirty, and then we’d have to
spend the first week of our stay making
things pleasant and comfortable. So we’ll
wait till the time to go, and do everything
there’s to be done while we’re waiting, shall
we?”</p>
<p>“Let’s,” nodded Sunny Boy, who really
understood. “Look, Daddy, there’s Ruth<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>
and Nelson Baker out in front of their
house. Ruth’s waving to you.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton stopped the car, and beckoned
to the Baker children.</p>
<p>“Hop in,” he said pleasantly. “I have
to go over to Aunt Bessie’s apartment and
you might as well have the little ride. I’ll
tell your mother where we’re going. Wait
for me.”</p>
<p>He went on into the house, and Ruth and
Nelson scrambled into the back of the automobile.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it hot?” said Nelson. “I’ll bet
there’s a thunderstorm this afternoon.
Don’t scratch the paint, Ruth.”</p>
<p>“I’m not!” retorted Ruth indignantly.
“Let me ride up in front, Sunny?”</p>
<p>“Don’t you let her,” urged Nelson.
“You always want to do whatever you see
any one else do. Sit down, or I’ll tell
Mother.”</p>
<p>Ruth, who had been trying to climb over<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>
the back of the seat, sat down, not so much
to please her brother as because she saw Mr.
Horton coming.</p>
<p>“Now we’re off,” he said, getting in.
“I’m to take you two Bakers down to your
father’s office after we’ve been to the apartment.
I hear you’ve been wearing out your
sandals at a shocking rate.”</p>
<p>“And Father’s going to get us new ones,”
guessed Nelson.</p>
<p>“Right,” responded Mr. Horton. “He’s
a pretty nice father to have.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV<br>
<span class="fs80">HELPING HERE AND THERE</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Daddy</span> and Sunny Boy found Aunt
Bessie and Miss Martinson very glad
to see them. Aunt Bessie was packing, Miss
Martinson washing some cut glass to be put
away, and Harriet in the kitchen, as usual,
was making something good to eat.</p>
<p>“Don’t you want to stay with me,
lambie?” Aunt Bessie asked Sunny. “You
may play the piano-player all day, if you
like. And sleep to-night on the funny couch
that opens when you press a button, and
Daddy and Mother and the car will come
and get us in the morning. Will you?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy looked at Daddy.</p>
<p>“I guess we’d better hurry back,” he said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>
politely. He caught hold of his father’s
hand and pulled him toward the door. “We
have to do a lot of things while we’re waiting
for to-morrow,” he explained.</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson laughed.</p>
<p>“Tell Mother, then, Busy Bee,” said Aunt
Bessie blowing him a kiss, “not to make egg
sandwiches, because Harriet has two dozen
of them. And we’ll see you bright and early
in the morning.”</p>
<p>Next, Ruth and Nelson Baker were left
at their father’s office down town in a big
gray building, and then Daddy and Sunny
Boy drove home and went in to see what they
could do for Mother.</p>
<p>“Why do you wrap ’em in a cloth,
Mother?” asked Sunny, leaning against the
kitchen table and watching Mrs. Horton put
a dozen sandwiches in a damp cloth.</p>
<p>“So they’ll keep fresh, dear,” she answered.
“I’ll put them in the ice box this
way and to-morrow morning they’ll be just<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>
as nice as they are now. Want to taste
this?”</p>
<p>Sunny tasted the spoon she held out to
him.</p>
<p>“It isn’t egg, is it?” he asked anxiously.
“Aunt Bessie says not to make egg ones,
’cause Harriet did.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton laughed.</p>
<p>“It isn’t egg,” she assured him. “That
was minced ham you tasted. I hope all
sandwiches don’t taste alike to you, Sunny.
Now let me see—it’s only half past ten. I
think I’ll go up and put the bedrooms in
order. Sunny Boy, if you’ll stay here and
let the expressman in when he comes for the
trunks, I’d like it very much. I want Daddy
to tie up some packages for me.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy, left alone in the kitchen, inspected
the three boxes open on the table.
Sandwiches filled one, another was evidently
for fruit, since oranges were already in it,
and the third was for cake. Harriet’s cake,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>
wrapped in waxed paper, filled half of it.</p>
<p>“Mother said I could do that. I s’pose I
wasn’t here,” thought Sunny Boy. “I want
to help fix the lunch.”</p>
<p>He sat down to think on the chair that
obligingly turned into a step-ladder if you
knew how to twist it. Presently he carried
the chair over to the kitchen closet and stood
up on it to look over the shelves. Very
likely his mother, with so much to do, might
forget the most necessary thing. He poked
around among the boxes, opened several and
smelled the contents. Finally one seemed
to please him very much, and he scrambled
down and went back to the lunch boxes.</p>
<p>“There!” He tucked his find in neatly
under the sandwiches. “P’rhaps they’ll be
s’prised. They can—”</p>
<p>“Sunny! Sunny Boy, please bring me the
ball of cord in the wall pocket,” called
Mother.</p>
<p>No sooner had he run upstairs with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>
cord than the doorbell rang and down he
came to let the expressman in. So it was no
wonder that he forgot what he had tucked
into the box and never thought of it again.</p>
<p>After the trunks had been carried out, Mrs.
Horton said it was time to get lunch, and
both Daddy and Sunny helped her and with
the dishes afterward. Then Daddy had to
go down town, and though Sunny begged to
be allowed to go with him in the car, it was
decided that he had better stay with Mother.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you go upstairs and see your
toys?” Mrs. Horton suggested. “I don’t
believe you’ve paid them any attention since
you came home. Daddy opened all the windows
on the third floor this morning, so it
must be nice and cool.”</p>
<p>“Will you come up too?” asked Sunny
Boy. “It’s so—so still, Mother.”</p>
<p>The house was still, as houses often seem
when they have not been lived in for weeks.</p>
<br>
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>
<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="p054" style="max-width: 48.0625em;">
<img class="w100" src="images/p054.jpg" alt="">
<figcaption class="caption"><p class="center no-indent">Upstairs Sunny Boy found his toys exactly as he had left
them</p>
<p class="right">
<em>Page <a href="#Page_55">55</a></em><br>
</p>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<br>
<p>“I’ll come up and start the clock on the
<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span>playroom shelf,” said Mrs. Horton briskly.
“And you might get out your kiddie car. I
saw Nelson with his this morning.”</p>
<p>Upstairs Sunny Boy found his toys exactly
as he had left them. The Teddy Bear sat
on the kiddie car, his forepaws resting patiently
on the steering bar. The drum was
hanging on its nail, and the train of cars was
still jumbled together from the last glorious
wreck.</p>
<p>“See, here’s where you mended the drum,”
said Sunny Boy, showing Mother the neatly
pasted tear. “I’d like to see if it is all right.
Would you mind if I drummed ve-ry softly,
Mother?”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton was willing.</p>
<p>“Rub-a-dub, dub!” went the drum-sticks
merrily. “Rub-a-dub, dub!” the drummer
stopped suddenly.</p>
<p>“Nelson has a new game, Mother,” announced
Sunny Boy. “He stands up paper
soldiers—no, I guess they’re pasteboard soldiers——and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span>
has a little gun that shoots marbles
at them. The drum made me think of
the soldiers.”</p>
<p>“Did you play the game with Nelson,
Sunny?”</p>
<p>“No’m, not yet. He said I might, though.
But I’d like a soldier game of my own.
How can I shoot at my soldiers, Mother?”</p>
<p>“That’s easy,” said Daddy from the doorway.
He had come in and no one had heard
him. “Stand your soldiers up in a row,
Sunny Boy, and roll marbles at them.
Olive, will you come down and help me find
that old fishing tackle?”</p>
<p>Left alone, Sunny Boy got all his paper
soldiers out and stood them up in two long
rows.</p>
<p>“Nelson gives the enemy the first shot,” he
said to himself. “He thinks that’s polite.
So I’ll let the enemy roll first.”</p>
<p>A white marble rolled over the rug and
knocked a corporal and two privates flat.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>
Quick as a flash the other side fired, and a
black marble bowled over three of the enemy.</p>
<p>Between firing, the drum, tied round the
Teddy Bear’s neck for the sake of convenience,
was heard in a lively tattoo.</p>
<p>“That’s the signals,” announced Sunny
Boy to the hobby horse that, as Daddy often
said, “looked as though he smelled gunpowder.”
“Three beats means to advance.
That’s the way they did when Grandpa went
to war.”</p>
<p>“Bang!” another enemy went down, carried
away by a green glass marble.</p>
<p>“I wish Nelson was here,” said Sunny
Boy earnestly. “Two sides could fire at
once then.”</p>
<p>Still, he managed to have a pretty good
time without Nelson, and when Daddy
called him down to supper he put the soldiers
back in their box reluctantly.</p>
<p>“Which side won?” smiled Mrs. Horton
at the table.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span></p>
<p>“Well, you see,” explained Sunny Boy
carefully, “neither really won, Mother.”</p>
<p>“I thought one side always won,” said
Mother humbly.</p>
<p>“My, no!” Sunny assured her. “When
Daddy called me there were ever so many
soldiers alive yet. The am—am—”</p>
<p>“Ammunition?”</p>
<p>“Yes’m, the amm’nition gave out.”</p>
<p>“But we used to use our marbles over and
over,” said Mr. Horton. “A bag of marbles
ought to furnish enough shots for an army
twice the size of yours.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy attempted to make it all clear.</p>
<p>“I did shoot ’em over and over,” he said
patiently. “Only after a while they were
all under the bookcase.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton laughed.</p>
<p>“I’ll get them out for you with a long pole
to-morrow,” he promised.</p>
<p>After supper they sat out on the front
steps for an hour or so and talked to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>
Bakers, who were also sitting out on their
steps. And then it was bedtime for those
who were going to take a trip the next day.</p>
<p>“Are you coming every night, Daddy?”
Sunny Boy asked, as they climbed the stairs
on their way to bed.</p>
<p>“Can’t make it every night,” was the answer.
“But I’ll be down every Saturday
afternoon and spend Sunday with you.
And if I can take a Friday off now and then,
I will.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy, after he was in bed, was perfectly
sure that he couldn’t go to sleep.</p>
<p>“I keep thinking about the ocean,” he explained
to Daddy, who was hunting for
something in the closet in his room.
“What you looking for, Daddy? Can we
go fishing in the ocean?”</p>
<p>“We can’t if you don’t go to sleep, we
can’t even start for the ocean,” said Mr.
Horton. “I’m looking for my old golf cap.
You go to sleep and I’ll find it.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span></p>
<p>“I know where it is.” Sunny got out of
bed and pattered across the floor to his toy
box. “I thought maybe you didn’t want it
any more, and I made believe it was a horse
blanket for my gray horse.”</p>
<p>Sure enough, the gray horse had the golf
cap neatly pinned about him.</p>
<p>“Well, he won’t take cold without it in
summer,” said Mr. Horton cheerfully.
“And I thought I’d like to wear the cap while
driving the car to-morrow. Sunny, aren’t
you going to sleep at all to-night?”</p>
<p>“I don’t feel sleepy,” complained Sunny,
climbing into bed and settling the covers
again. “Oh, Daddy, I forgot the woolly
dog.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton brought him the woolly dog,
kissed him good-night, and put out the light.</p>
<p>“Daddy?”</p>
<p>The door into Daddy and Mother’s room
opened a crack.</p>
<p>“Go to sleep,” said Mother severely.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span></p>
<p>“But, Mother, I just have to ask Daddy
one question. Then I will go to sleep—honest.”</p>
<p>So Daddy came in again and sat on the
edge of the bed.</p>
<p>“Daddy—” Sunny sat up in bed so that
he could see him better, for the light from the
street lamp shone across the room. “Daddy,
does a crab bite?”</p>
<p>“It does,” said Mr. Horton. “I’ll take
you crabbing and you’ll see how it does it.
And now—”</p>
<p>“Now I’m going to sleep,” said Sunny
hastily.</p>
<p>He just closed his eyes for a second and
turned over in a more comfortable position.
And then—</p>
<p>“All aboard for Nestle Cove!” There
stood Daddy in the middle of his room, calling
to him. The sun was shining, and, yes,
it was morning!</p>
<p>“What do you know about that!” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>
the bewildered Sunny Boy. “I wasn’t going
to sleep that minute.”</p>
<p>“But you did. And in an hour we’re to
start,” Mr. Horton told him. “Mother has
already gone downstairs. We’ll have to
hustle, for we have to go get Aunt Bessie and
Miss Betty and Harriet, you know. Let’s
see who can get dressed first!”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V<br>
<span class="fs80">SUNNY BOY’S SURPRISE</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Daddy</span> wasn’t dressed first because he
stopped to help Sunny Boy, who had
lost one shoe and simply couldn’t find it!
Finally Sunny discovered it under the bed,
and he had it on and laced and the other shoe
done, too, before Daddy was ready. Then
they raced downstairs, and both tried to kiss
Mother at once.</p>
<p>“You crazy boys!” she said, laughing.
“I suppose you’ll be too excited to eat breakfast.
Hurry! Sunny Boy! Why, how
you do act! Come now, I’m going to put the
eggs on to boil. Sit down and eat your fruit,
and stop bothering me.”</p>
<p>Sunny could have skipped breakfast without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>
a murmur. Indeed, he suggested that
they shouldn’t waste time doing the same old
thing they did every day; he wasn’t hungry,
so why not start out right away?</p>
<p>“Well, if you don’t want to eat, I do,”
said Daddy. “You wouldn’t want me to
faint away from hunger while I was driving
the car, would you? I thought not. And
if you have your eye on those lunch boxes
Mother has for us, you’d better eat breakfast
just the same. I might eat <em>all</em> the lunch
up and then you’d be sorry you missed this
buttered toast.”</p>
<p>So Sunny Boy did his best to eat, and he
really managed pretty well.</p>
<p>After breakfast there was a great scurrying
about. Mother washed the dishes,
Daddy dried them, and Sunny put them
away. All the food that was left in the
house was put into a little basket and left
with Mrs. Baker for the washerwoman who
came to wash for her every Wednesday.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span>
She was a tall colored woman, and Sunny
knew her. They often talked over the
fence.</p>
<p>“I have seven childern,” she used to say.
“And I keeps thirteen hens and one rooster.
I kin use every scrap of food, yes’m. Don’t
you ever throw away nothing that can be
et.”</p>
<p>So Mrs. Horton was always careful to set
aside all the left-overs she couldn’t use for
Molly.</p>
<p>“Now while Daddy is fastening the windows
and locking up, we’ll be putting on our
new linen dusters,” said Mrs. Horton.
“Let me see, have we forgotten anything?
The trunks went yesterday, there are the two
suitcases—No, Son, don’t lift them, Daddy
will carry them down—the lunch boxes are
on the hall table. Yes, Harry?”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton on the third floor was calling
her.</p>
<p>“Olive, there’s a fly in this room—he’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>
starve to death this summer. Send Sunny
Boy up with the fly-batter, quick.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton laughed.</p>
<p>“Daddy’s remembering something I did
ever so long ago,” she told Sunny Boy.
“What was it? Oh, I haven’t time to tell
you now. I will, after we’ve started. Run
along up with the fly-batter, precious, and
tell Daddy please to hurry.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton killed the fly and carried
down the suitcases and took them and the
lunch boxes out to the car at the curb. The
boy who worked for Mr. Taggart had
brought the automobile around soon after
breakfast. Mother and Daddy had on long
brown linen coats, and Sunny Boy had one,
too, made exactly like Daddy’s. He was
very proud of that new coat.</p>
<p>Then it was time to lock the front door
and really start.</p>
<p>“It does take so long to go,” sighed Sunny
Boy, as he stood waiting with Mother on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>
front steps while Daddy made sure that the
door was tightly fastened.</p>
<p>“But we want our house to be all here
when we come back,” Mother reminded him.
“Never mind, we’re going this minute.
There are Nelson and Ruth to say good-by
to you, dear.”</p>
<p>Nelson and Ruth came down to the car
and watched till every one was safely in.</p>
<p>“Good-by!” they called, as Mr. Horton
started. “Good-by, Sunny! Have a good
time! Good-by!”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy waved to them as long as he
could see them, and even after all he could
make out was the blur of pink that he knew
was Ruth’s dress. Then he was ready to
talk.</p>
<p>“Where are we going first?” he demanded.</p>
<p>“Why, to get Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson
and Harriet, of course,” answered
Mrs. Horton.</p>
<p>Mr. Horton turned.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span></p>
<p>“Look here, Sunny Boy,” he said. “I figure
out that I’m going to feel lonesome with four
ladies in the car—you’ll have to come up here
with me, and then we’ll be two to four at
least. Here we are. I see Joseph out on
the sidewalk with the bags. I’ll go up and
help with whatever else they have.”</p>
<p>The automobile stopped before the apartment
house, and Joseph, the colored elevator
boy, grinned delightedly at Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“You’s going, ain’t you?” he chuckled.
“You-all shorely have a fine day. Yes, Sir,
Miss Andrew and Miss Ma’tinson is both
ready. Guess they’s looking out the window.
Miss Andrew said to come right up
when you-all came.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton went in to tell Aunt Bessie
they were waiting for her, and Sunny stayed
in the car with Mother.</p>
<p>In a very few minutes Aunt Bessie came
out, tying a long green veil over her pretty
gray hat.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span></p>
<p>“Hello, lambie, kiss your old auntie,” she
said to Sunny Boy. Aunt Bessie wasn’t old
at all, though sometimes she pretended to be.
“Olive, I left the canary bird with Mrs.
Richards. They’re going to be in town all
summer, and a birdcage and a live bird are
not the easiest things to carry in a car. Was
that all right?”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie, you see, had been keeping the
canary for Mother and Sunny Boy while they
were visiting Grandpa Horton.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you didn’t try to bring him,”
said Mrs. Horton frankly. “He would
likely be frightened, and, anyway, I don’t
believe in trying to move pets. Sunny Boy
left his collie puppy up on the farm. Here
come Betty and Harriet.”</p>
<p>While Mr. Horton helped them into the
car, Sunny got out and scrambled into the
front seat.</p>
<p>“Why, Sunny Boy! I thought of course
you’d stay with us,” cried Miss Martinson.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span></p>
<p>“Daddy was lonesome with four ladies
and only himself up here,” explained Sunny
seriously. “Now we’re two to four.”</p>
<p>Every one laughed, and then Daddy took
his place and started the engine.</p>
<p>“Now we’re off,” sighed Aunt Bessie. “It
did seem to me that if I had to do one thing
more I should scream.”</p>
<p>“You’re like Sunny,” answered Mrs. Horton.
“When he is going anywhere he is very
impatient of preliminaries.”</p>
<p>“What’s that?” he asked Daddy.</p>
<p>“Preliminaries?” said Daddy. “Oh,
things that come first—like eating breakfast
and locking the doors and packing boxes
and so on.”</p>
<p>“An’ killing flies,” added Sunny Boy.
He turned so that he could talk to his mother
more easily.</p>
<p>“You said you’d tell me,” he urged her.
“Why did you laugh when Daddy said the
fly would starve?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p>
<p>Mrs. Horton smiled.</p>
<p>“Oh, because he likes to tell about the first
summer we were married, and I wasn’t a very
experienced housekeeper,” she explained.
“We were closing the apartment the day
before we were to go to the country for a
month, and I found a little live mouse in a
trap I had set. I opened the trap and let
him go and when your father asked me why I
did that, I answered that I couldn’t bear to
think of the poor creature starving to death.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson laughed,
but Sunny was puzzled.</p>
<p>“It would be mean to let him starve,” he
declared. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?”</p>
<p>“Well, yes,” admitted Mr. Horton.
“But you see, Sunny Boy, we catch mice to
prevent them from eating up our good clean
food. And Mother let the mouse go, and he
probably lived on our pantry shelves that
summer. What we should have done was to
drown him.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span></p>
<p>“Oh,” said Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>While he thought this over the car purred
through the city streets into the suburbs and
finally out into the open country. The road
was dry and white, but not too dusty, for a
recent rain had laid the dust.</p>
<p>“I’m getting hungry,” announced Mrs.
Horton. “We had such an early breakfast
that an eleven o’clock lunch wouldn’t be out
of the way at all. Let’s keep on the look-out
for a cool shady spot, and when we find
it, stop and have a picnic.”</p>
<p>They found the cool, shady spot sooner
than they expected. A turn in the road
brought them to a white farmhouse with an
apple orchard that grew almost up to the
front door.</p>
<p>“Ask if we can eat our lunch under the
trees, Harry,” said Mrs. Horton. “And if
we can get some milk for Sunny, that will
be fine.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton went up to the door and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>
knocked. A young woman opened it. The
folk in the car couldn’t hear what he
said, but he came back in a few moments,
smiling.</p>
<p>“She says we may take down the bars and
drive right in,” he reported. “And she’ll
bring us out a pitcher of cold milk and will
be glad to make a cup of hot tea if any one
wants it.”</p>
<p>No one wanted hot tea, and when Lucy,
that was her name she told them, brought out
the ice-cold milk, they assured her it was
far more delicious than any tea could be.
Lucy couldn’t stay, for the dinner was on the
stove and she expected the farmer men home
to dinner at twelve. Mr. Horton paid her
for the milk, and she said that the money
would go into her school fund. She was saving
to have enough to go away to school in
the fall.</p>
<p>“I’m hungry, too,” declared Sunny Boy,
watching Mother place the goodies on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>
white cloth as Harriet opened the boxes and
handed them to her.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you have an appetite,” said
Mother. “Things will taste good to you
then. Come, girls and boys, we’re ready
for you.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson passed
their box of sandwiches and every one took
one. Those were the egg ones Sunny Boy
had remembered to tell his mother about.
Then Mrs. Horton passed her box, and after
all were served and Harriet was putting
down the box, meaning to take up the fruit
box, she saw something in it.</p>
<p>“What’s this?” she asked, putting in her
hand and drawing out a round, rather flat
box. “Is it something you put in for the
sandwiches, Mrs. Horton? Pepper and
salt, maybe? It was down under the paper,
and I most missed it.”</p>
<p>“That’s my s’prise!” cried Sunny Boy,
who had forgotten about the box he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span>
taken from the closet shelf. “I put it in,
Mother. I like to pack boxes.”</p>
<p>“I knew it was nothing I had packed,”
said Mrs. Horton wonderingly.</p>
<p>But Mr. Horton, who had been leaning
over her shoulder to see the box, now rolled
over on his back in the grass, shouting with
laughter.</p>
<p>“It’s the stove polish!” he half-choked.
“What won’t that child do next!”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI<br>
<span class="fs80">ON THE WAY</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“It’s</span> a s’prise,” Sunny Boy insisted, his
lower lip trembling.</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson were
trying not to laugh. Harriet looked completely
mystified. Mr. Horton was wiping
his eyes.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy looked at his mother. She
wasn’t even smiling. Her clear, direct gaze
met his squarely.</p>
<p>“What’s it for, precious?” she asked
quietly. “Tell us why you put it in the
lunch. You didn’t know it was stove
polish, did you?”</p>
<p>“No, ’course not,” returned Sunny
eagerly, glad to find some one sensible<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>
enough to understand. “I thought it was
lic’rish ’cause it smelled so good when I
opened the box. An’ it was on the shelf,
Mother.”</p>
<p>“I did that closet in kind of a hurry,” admitted
Harriet. “I guess plenty of things
are not in the right place. And so you
thought it was something good to eat, and we
could maybe spread it on our bread, did you,
Sunny?” Harriet began to laugh. It usually
took Harriet a long time to see a joke,
and when she did begin to laugh she never
stopped very quickly.</p>
<p>The more Harriet laughed, the funnier it
seemed. Presently every one, even Sunny
Boy, was laughing with her. And by the
time they had their laugh out, and had eaten
the rest of that picnic lunch, it was time,
Mr. Horton said, to think about starting
again.</p>
<p>Lucy was at the gate as the car backed out,
and she and Mr. Horton and Sunny Boy put<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>
the bars up. She waved them good-by as
they rolled down the road.</p>
<p>“She’s never seen the ocean,” remarked
Mrs. Horton. “I’ve her name and address;
she asked me if any one ever wanted somebody
to help out down at the Cove this summer
to write her.”</p>
<p>“If she’s saving money for school, she
might make some this summer,” agreed Aunt
Bessie thoughtfully. “We’ll remember
that.”</p>
<p>“Has Sunny Boy ever seen the ocean?”
asked Miss Martinson.</p>
<p>“Yes,” that small person assured her.
“Twice when I don’t remember, and twice
last year. Mrs. Hadley took us down in the
automobile. I went in wading.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton, whose eyes were on the road
ahead, suddenly put on his brakes and
stopped the automobile.</p>
<p>“Can we help?” he asked.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy had turned in his seat to speak<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span>
to Miss Martinson and so had not seen the
car ahead of them. Two men were working
over the engine, and a lady and a little girl
sat in the back.</p>
<p>“We’re stumped,” said one of the men
with a smile. “Been here half an hour.”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton jumped out and went over to
them.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy, curled up in the seat, smiled
vaguely at the little girl, who smiled back.
Somewhere, hidden in the trees along the
roads, insects were humming. A faint wind
rustled the dry, dusty grass. The engine
of the other car started chugging with a
gay, determined sound. Mr. Horton shook
hands with the men and came back to the
car.</p>
<p>“Mother,” he said carelessly, putting his
tools away in the box, “I think some one is
going to sleep.”</p>
<p>Sunny wondered who was going to sleep,
and who was lifting him over the back of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span>
seat, and whose lap was so soft—and why—and
what—and then—</p>
<p>“Well, precious, you’ve had a nice little
nap. We’re almost at Nestle Cove. Sit
up, and smell the salt in the air,” said Mrs.
Horton.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy rubbed his eyes. He had been
asleep.</p>
<p>“Harry,” Mrs. Horton leaned forward,
and touched her husband’s arm. “There’s
a little inn; couldn’t we stop there a minute?
We’d like to look half-way presentable when
we go through the town. Every one will be
out on the porches, you know.”</p>
<p>“And my hair’s a sight,” declared Aunt
Bessie positively.</p>
<p>“I <em>would</em> like to wash my face,” announced
Miss Martinson.</p>
<p>“Old man, what do you want to do?”
asked Mr. Horton, turning the car into the
pretty white driveway bordered on either
side with dazzling white clam shells.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span></p>
<p>“I could eat,” ventured Sunny Boy cautiously.</p>
<p>“My sentiments exactly,” agreed his
father.</p>
<p>“But we’ll have an early supper,” protested
Mrs. Horton. “I’d rather you
waited, Sunny Boy. The time won’t seem
long.”</p>
<p>“Well, but, Mother, couldn’t I have an
ice-cream cone?” asked Sunny Boy. “Time
is quicker when you have a cone.”</p>
<p>“Yes, Mother,” teased Mr. Horton.
“Time is ever so much quicker when we have
a cone. Please, Mother?”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton laughed.</p>
<p>“We’ll all have cones,” she decided.
“First we’ll get tidied up, and then we ladies
will sit down a minute on this charming
front porch and rest, and you and Sunny
Boy may bring us the cones.”</p>
<p>So they all went upstairs and a lovely little
old lady with red cheeks and white, white<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>
hair, brought them clean towels and warm
water, and showed them into a tiny bedroom
with pretty chintz curtains and furniture to
match.</p>
<p>Sunny was ready first and he came downstairs
to find Daddy awaiting him.</p>
<p>“And now we can buy the cones,” they
both said happily.</p>
<p>“How did you know the kind we liked?”
asked Aunt Bessie, when they came up the
steps a few minutes later. She and Miss
Martinson and Mother were rocking in a nice
little row.</p>
<p>“They only had vanilla,” answered
Sunny Boy, matter-of-factly. “Where’s
Harriet?”</p>
<p>“She’s telephoning for an ice-man,” said
Mrs. Horton. “Isn’t she good, Harry?
She wanted us to have ice to-night, and the
proprietor of the inn gave her the name of the
man in town who sells ice. We’d better<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>
hurry, or we’ll find it melting on our front
doorstep.”</p>
<p>Harriet came out in time to get her ice-cream
cone, and then they went back to the
automobile again and got in.</p>
<p>“Smell the ocean now?” said Mr. Horton,
as he turned the car around. “We’re going
through the town now, Sunny Boy. You
look about and decide what you want to do
when I come down again and we come over
for a little fun.”</p>
<p>Sunny watched with interest. First they
went through very clean, straight streets,
with small square lawns before the houses—“like
little green pocket-handkerchiefs”—Aunt
Bessie declared. Nearly every house
had a porch, and on every porch were groups
of ladies, dressed in white, knitting or sewing
or just talking. Children played croquet
on the lawns, or sat in swings.</p>
<p>“He has a pail,” said Sunny, pointing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>
to a little bare-footed boy coming up the
street swinging a spade and shovel.</p>
<p>“Mercy, isn’t he sunburned!” cried Aunt
Bessie. “Sunny Boy, I hope you’ll be more
respectful to your nose!”</p>
<p>From the straight, clean streets, the
automobile turned into a wider thoroughfare,
with nothing but stores on either
side.</p>
<p>“I see the ocean!” Sunny Boy stood up
in the car and shouted.</p>
<p>Sure enough, if one looked down the street
straight ahead there was dark blue water,
tossing in the sun.</p>
<p>“There’s where you can buy your pail and
shovel,” said Harriet, pointing out a one-story
shop with tin pails and shovels hanging
up in its doorway.</p>
<p>“See all the children,” said Sunny Boy
suddenly. “Are they going to the movies?
And oh, look, Daddy!”</p>
<p>“Well, what do you know about that!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>
and Mr. Horton slowed down the car in surprise.</p>
<p>“That” was a merry-go-round on a vacant
lot next to a brown frame building marked
“Post-office.” The organ was playing merrily
and the children on the prancing animals
waved gayly to Sunny Boy as they spun
round. A crowd of youngsters, tickets in
hand, stood awaiting their turn.</p>
<p>“Let’s go on it,” suggested Sunny.</p>
<p>“Not this afternoon,” replied his father.
“You see, I think we really should get to
where we are going first, don’t you? I understand
the ice is likely to melt and drown
the whole house if we don’t hurry.”</p>
<p>“And it’s five now,” said Mrs. Horton,
glancing at the pretty watch on her wrist.
“You’ll have plenty of chances to ride this
summer, Sunny.”</p>
<p>And when Sunny Boy saw the sea on the
other side of the road he quickly forgot the
merry-go-round.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span></p>
<p>Nestle Cove was really divided into three
parts. There was the town, through which
they had just passed; there was a beautiful
stretch of shore road, with the ocean on one
side and sand dunes, with dark pines back of
them, on the other; and then the road led
into the bungalow colony where the cottage
Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson had rented
stood.</p>
<p>“We’re some distance from the town,”
Aunt Bessie remarked, as they saw the roofs
of the bungalows and cottages beginning to
appear; “but this is one reason Betty and I
liked it. There’s a jitney that runs every
half hour anyway.”</p>
<p>Sunny was watching the waves that ran up
the beach almost to the edge of the road, but
never quite; always they seemed to think better
of it and go rushing back into the sea
again.</p>
<p>“I see shells,” he remarked, standing up to
see better. “An’ pebbles and fringe—”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span></p>
<p>“Seaweed,” corrected Mrs. Horton.
“Oh, you’ll have the best of times, dear.
And you’ll have Daddy to play with all day
to-morrow. Think of that!”</p>
<p>Mr. Horton looked back at Aunt Bessie.</p>
<p>“How does one know one’s new house?”
he inquired seriously.</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie stared, then laughed.</p>
<p>“I haven’t the slightest idea how it looks,”
she confessed. “I’ve seen it only once, and
Betty never has. I think it was shingled
and painted green.”</p>
<p>“There’s the ice-man,” said Sunny
placidly. “He’s going in our house.”</p>
<p>And so it proved. Harriet had given the
ice-man the address, and he had found the
house without a bit of trouble. Aunt Bessie’s
key fitted the front door, and that was
another sign they had found the right house.
And before they had taken off their hats, the
wife of the owner came in to explain that she
had had the windows up all day so that the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>
place would be cool and airy for them; and
then they knew they had the right bungalow.</p>
<p>“Why is it a bungalow?” asked Sunny,
out in the small garage at the back of the
house, where he had gone to help his father
put up the car.</p>
<p>“That’s the name of it,” said Mr. Horton,
busy with folding and putting away the
robes and curtains.</p>
<p>“Is a bungalow a house?” persisted Sunny.</p>
<p>“Yes,” answered Mr. Horton. “When
all the rooms are on one floor, it is called a
bungalow. You’ll like sleeping on the first
floor, Sunny Boy; we can fall out of the window
for an early swim and no one will miss
us. And now let’s go in and offer to set the
table for supper. Perhaps we can hurry
things up.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII<br>
<span class="fs80">A DAY WITH DADDY</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">After</span> supper that night, Sunny Boy
had a dim idea that he would like to go
down and look at the ocean “in the dark” as
he said. But Mr. Horton announced that
he was going to bed and get up early in the
morning, so Sunny decided that perhaps
after all that was the wiser plan.</p>
<p>As usual, he went to sleep at once and
woke up a minute later—or so it seemed to
him. The sunlight was very bright and
there was a great deal of it in the room.
Daddy was nearly dressed, but Mother was
still asleep.</p>
<p>“Don’t make a noise,” whispered Mr.
Horton. “I thought we’d have a little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>
swim, but I guess the bathing suits are in
the trunks. They’re in the hall and not
unlocked yet. We’ll go down to the beach
and have a little walk before breakfast.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy struggled into his brown
linen sailor suit, Daddy helping him with
the most stubborn buttons, and together
they stole out of the house. Not even Harriet
was awake.</p>
<p>“Is it dreadful early?” asked Sunny curiously,
and whispering, because he felt so
strange.</p>
<p>Mr. Horton laughed.</p>
<p>“It’s six o’clock,” he answered. “The
sun has been up a long time. Some morning
you and I must struggle up to see a sunrise,
Sunny Boy. Ah, there’s the sea. Doesn’t
it sparkle this morning?”</p>
<p>The little waves were running up and
down, just as Sunny Boy had seen them yesterday.
He wondered if they had done that
all night, and then he knew they had. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>
last thing he had heard the night before was
the dull roar of the waves as they broke on
the sand, and he had heard it that morning,
too. The sea, he thought, never rested.</p>
<p>“There’s a little girl, Daddy.” Sunny’s
quick eyes had spied a small figure farther
down the beach. “What’s she got in her
box?”</p>
<p>“You ask her,” suggested Mr. Horton.
“She probably lives in one of the cottages,
and you’ll want to be friends. Ask her
what she is doing.”</p>
<p>They walked down toward the little girl,
and when she heard their feet in the sand
she turned. She was a pretty child, with
big brown eyes and short, curly, brown hair.
She smiled at Sunny Boy and her smile
showed that several front teeth were
missing. This made her lisp when she
talked.</p>
<p>“’Lo!” she said pleasantly. “Are you
hunting thells?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span></p>
<p>“Is that what you’ve got in your box?”
asked Sunny Boy. “Let me see?”</p>
<p>The little girl held up her box; it was half
full of odd shells.</p>
<p>“Ellen! Ellen! Breakfast!” called
some one clearly.</p>
<p>“I have to go,” announced Ellen hastily.
“I’ll be out after breakfast. ’Bye.”</p>
<p>She ran up the beach as fast as her short
legs could carry her, and Sunny Boy and
Daddy saw her scramble up the sand and
disappear over the road.</p>
<p>“Now she’s gone,” said Sunny Boy wistfully,
“and I wanted to play with her. She’s
a nice little girl, and I liked her, and I
wanted to see the shells she had in that box.”</p>
<p>“You’ll see her again,” said Mr. Horton.
“I hope you’ll soon know plenty of children
to play with. Now we’ll take a short walk
down this way, and then we must go back
and have our own breakfast.”</p>
<p>When they went back to the bungalow,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>
they found the others on the porch looking
for them.</p>
<p>“Harriet sounded the gong five minutes
ago,” announced Mrs. Horton. “Where
were you? Aren’t you hungry? Why
didn’t you wake me up?”</p>
<p>“We’ve brought real seashore appetites to
breakfast,” answered Mr. Horton. “Sunny
Boy and I just went on a scouting trip.
We’ve found the bathing beach, and made
the acquaintance of Ellen. Sunny, have
you said good morning to Miss Martinson?”</p>
<p>“Do you know,” said that little lady,
smiling warmly at Sunny Boy, “I think it
would be ever so nice if Sunny Boy would
call me Aunt Betty. I haven’t a single
nephew in this wide world—just two
nieces. ‘Miss Martinson’ is such a long
name to remember.”</p>
<p>So it was settled that Sunny Boy should
have another auntie.</p>
<p>After breakfast Mrs. Horton went to unpack<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>
the trunks and find the bathing suits.
Aunt Bessie and Aunt Betty volunteered to
make the beds. Harriet and a big basket
took the jitney for town to buy things to eat,
and Sunny Boy and Daddy were told to go
and amuse themselves till lunch time.</p>
<p>“We’ll surprise them,” declared Mr. Horton,
leading the way to the garage. “I have
a package they don’t know about and you
and I will take it down to the beach and
then we’ll see what Mother and the aunties
say.”</p>
<p>This mysterious bundle Mr. Horton had
spoken of was long and thin and rather
heavy. They found it on the floor of the
automobile where it had not been noticed
because of the many other bundles and luggage
they had carried with them.</p>
<p>“What is it, Daddy?” asked Sunny Boy as
he took one end and Mr. Horton the other,
and they headed for the beach.</p>
<p>“It’s a secret,” was all Daddy would say.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span></p>
<p>Down on the beach, he laid it in the sand,
and, taking out his strong pocket knife, cut
the heavy string.</p>
<p>“Why, it’s only umbrellas!” Sunny’s
voice sounded disappointed.</p>
<p>Mr. Horton chuckled.</p>
<p>“Yes, but you wait,” he advised. “I
open the umbrella so, and I stand it up this
way; then I open the other, and I stand it up
so, in the sand. And now when Mother
and Aunt Bessie and Aunt Betty come down
with their fancy-work, they have a fine,
shady place to sit and sew.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” said Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>Secretly, he didn’t think those large white
canvas umbrellas were very much fun, but
when, a little later, his mother and aunts
came down to the beach, they were delighted.
And before the summer was over Sunny himself
had spent many a hot afternoon under
their comfortable shade while his mother or
Harriet read aloud to him.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span></p>
<p>After the umbrellas were in position, he
and Daddy strolled up the beach. Sunny
Boy soon took off his shoes and stockings and
then he could walk along the edge of the
water and let the waves come up over his
feet.</p>
<p>“There’s Ellen,” he cried presently. “I
know, ’cause she has on a yellow dress.
And there’s a little boy with her. Look,
Daddy.”</p>
<p>Ellen saw them, and waved her hand.</p>
<p>“’Lo!” she called, running up to them.
“This is my brother, Ralph. Are you going
bathing?”</p>
<p>“When Mother finds the bathing suits,”
Sunny assured her. “Come on wading.
That’s heaps of fun.”</p>
<p>Ellen shook her head.</p>
<p>“Can’t to-day,” she responded briefly.
“Yesterday Ralph an’ I took our shoes and
stockings off after Mother said we shouldn’t,
and we went in too far and got our best<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>
clothes wet. We can’t go wading again for
two days.”</p>
<p>“Then why not build a sand fort?” suggested
Mr. Horton sympathetically.
“Three of you can build a fine one. I’ll sit
right here and keep a look-out for Mother
so she won’t miss us.”</p>
<p>“Yes, that would be fun,” agreed Ellen.
“Come on, Sunny.”</p>
<p>“All right,” responded Sunny Boy briefly.
“Are you going to play, Ralph?”</p>
<p>“Course. I like to build in the sand.”</p>
<p>The three children set to work to build a
fort, and as Sunny Boy could go down and
scoop up water in Ellen’s pail, they had
plenty of damp sand to make the walls shape
well. They made an elaborate fort with
five gates and a high wall, and they were
molding soldiers for it when Mrs. Horton
and Aunt Bessie came and found them.</p>
<p>“Betty’s getting into her bathing suit,”
Aunt Bessie announced. “Hello, chicks,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span>
you seem to be having a fine time. And
Sunny Boy has seven freckles on his nose
already.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie’s small nephew tried to look
down at his nose to see the seven freckles, of
which he was prepared to be rather proud,
but, as the nose was very little and, as all
noses are, very close to his eyes, he could
scarcely see the nose, much less the freckles
that might be on it.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy introduced his new friends politely,
though they had to tell him their last
names.</p>
<p>“Ellen and Ralph Gray,” repeated Mrs.
Horton. “Then I think you must be the little
folk who live in the white house on the
street next but one to ours. I met your
mother in the embroidery store this morning
when I was matching some wool. It is nice
you live so near Sunny Boy.”</p>
<p>“Is the water cold? Aren’t you lazy people
going in?” asked Aunt Betty, dancing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>
before them in her pretty black and white
bathing suit. She held her rubber cap in
her hand.</p>
<p>“Sunny and I are going,” declared Mr.
Horton scrambling to his feet. “Come on,
Son, we must get dressed. ’Scuse us,
friends.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton and Aunt Bessie decided to
stay under the umbrellas and knit, and Ellen
and Ralph had an errand to do in the town
for their mother. So Sunny Boy and
Daddy raced each other up to the bungalow
and found their bathing suits neatly spread
out for them in the built-in bathing houses
next to the side porch.</p>
<p>“Can you swim, Daddy?” Sunny Boy
asked, struggling with his jersey.</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed,” was the cheerful answer.
“You’ll learn this summer, too. I want to
teach Mother to drive the car, so I can leave
it down here sometimes; and I want to teach
you to swim.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy looked ready for a good time
when he finally stood up in his trim little
suit. It was dark blue with a red stripe at
the neck and wrists. Daddy’s was just like
it. They took hold of hands and raced
down the beach.</p>
<p>“In we go,” said Mr. Horton, lifting
Sunny Boy high.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy held on tightly and tried not
to be afraid. The waves looked very big
and fierce when he got out among them, but
all about him were people laughing and
ducking and having the merriest time.</p>
<p>“You’re all right, Son,” Daddy’s kind
voice assured him. “I won’t duck you, but
I want you to get wet all over, as then the
water won’t feel cold. Stand up, now, and
hold my hand.”</p>
<p>He put Sunny Boy down and a great wave
broke over them both.</p>
<p>“O-oh!” gasped Sunny Boy, and laughed.</p>
<p>He began to splash and paddle around,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>
though he was careful to keep tight hold of
Daddy.</p>
<p>“And now we come out,” declared Mr.
Horton after ten or fifteen minutes.</p>
<p>“Not yet,” teased Sunny. “I like it.
And I can’t swim, Daddy.”</p>
<p>“We’re going out now,” repeated Mr.
Horton firmly. “Mustn’t stay in too long
the first time. You couldn’t learn to swim
in one morning, anyway. Run over and
speak to Mother a moment if you want to,
and then we’ll get dressed.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII<br>
<span class="fs80">MAKING NEW FRIENDS</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“See</span> how wet I am, Mother?” Sunny
Boy danced up and down before the
big umbrella.</p>
<p>“You certainly are!” Mrs. Horton agreed
with him. “And it seems to me you’d better
run along and get dressed. There comes
Aunt Betty—she’s looking for us. Wave
your hand, Sunny Boy. And now we’ll
all go up to the house; it must be getting
near lunch-time.”</p>
<p>Sunny and Daddy were both dressed and
“starving to death” they told each other, fifteen
minutes before Harriet rang the gong.</p>
<p>“Wasn’t the water fine this morning?”
asked Miss Martinson, at the lunch table.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>
“I was hoping for a chance to duck Sunny
Boy, but he never came within reach.”</p>
<p>“Daddy was there, Aunt Betty. I don’t
p’sume he’d let you duck me,” replied Sunny
Boy.</p>
<p>“Didn’t Daddy duck you?” asked Aunt
Betty.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. Did you, Daddy?”</p>
<p>“No, not exactly. Instead of putting you
under the water—ducking you—we let the
water cover us, heads and all. You see, it
would not be very bad to be ducked.”</p>
<p>“What do you say to a drive this afternoon?”
said Mr. Horton. “I have to go on
the first train in the morning, you know,
and until Olive learns to drive the car
you’re going to be dependent on the jitneys
and trolleys. All in favor of driving
down the shore road after lunch, say
‘Aye.’”</p>
<p>“Aye!” cried all the grown-ups to Sunny’s
astonishment.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span></p>
<p>“What do you say, Laddie?” his father
smiled at him.</p>
<p>“I say ‘me,’” declared Sunny Boy firmly.</p>
<p>And then those grown-ups had to laugh.</p>
<p>“That settles it,” announced Mr. Horton.
“We’ll keep as close to the beach as we can;
and we’ll take the field glasses, and perhaps
we can sight a coast steamer.”</p>
<p>As soon as they were through lunch Mr.
Horton brought the car around, and Mrs.
Horton, Aunt Bessie and Aunt Betty and
Sunny Boy got in, only this time Sunny rode
in the back. Mrs. Horton wanted to learn
to drive herself, and she meant to watch her
husband and see what he did.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was secretly hoping for another
glimpse of the merry-go-round, but
they drove in the opposite direction and did
not go through the town at all.</p>
<p>“Now you take the wheel,” said Mr. Horton,
stopping the car on a smooth straight
stretch of road.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span></p>
<p>So Mrs. Horton exchanged seats with him
and drove, very slowly and carefully.</p>
<p>“Just as well as Daddy,” Sunny Boy encouraged
her. And indeed, before the
month was half gone, his mother was able to
drive the automobile as well as his father.</p>
<p>She soon tired of the excitement this afternoon,
though, and was glad to give it up
and come back into the tonneau with Aunt
Bessie and Miss Martinson. Sunny Boy
then slipped into the front seat.</p>
<p>“I see a ship!” he shouted a moment later.</p>
<p>Sure enough, there against the sky they
saw the outline of a ship with three funnels,
or smokestacks, as Sunny called them.</p>
<p>“The meadow glasses, Mother!” he cried.
“Daddy’s meadow glasses to see the ship
through!”</p>
<p>“Field glasses,” laughed Aunt Betty.</p>
<p>“Sunny Boy is thinking of the meadows he
played in at Brookside farm,” explained Mr.
Horton.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy, screwing his eyes to look
through the glasses, nodded. Daddy always
understood what he meant to say.</p>
<p>“I see men on it,” he announced.</p>
<p>Then every one looked and saw the sailors
walking about the decks of the vessel.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was much interested, and as
Daddy drove on he asked a great many questions
about the sea and ships. He rather
thought he should like to be a sailor when
he grew up. Either that, or an aviator.</p>
<p>Hm’m, hm’m—buz-zz. A great droning
sounded back of them.</p>
<p>“Mother, Mother, Mother!” Sunny Boy
shouted at the top of his lungs. “It’s an
airplane!”</p>
<p>It was, too; a beautiful, graceful, swift
airplane that came out of the sky and sped
over them and was gone almost before they
knew it.</p>
<p>“You’ll see ever so many of them this
summer,” Mr. Horton said, when his family<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>
were sitting down properly in their places
again. You know how every one stands up
and tilts his head backward to watch an airplane.</p>
<p>That was the end of adventures for that
afternoon, though they drove several miles
further along the road that followed the line
of the beach closely. They got back to the
bungalow just in time to freshen up a little
before Harriet announced that dinner was
ready.</p>
<p>“What are we going to do to-night?”
Sunny Boy asked pleasantly, playing that
a piece of bread was a fish and his spoon a
net.</p>
<p>Daddy laughed.</p>
<p>“Why, I think you’re going to bed,” he
answered, gazing intently at the bowl before
Sunny Boy and the spoon which threatened
to spatter milk presently. “I may take
Mother down to the beach to see the moon a
little later, but we are all going to bed early.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>
I have to go back to the city early, you
know.”</p>
<p>“I wish—” said Sunny Boy earnestly.
“I wish you would stay and play with me all
the time, Daddy—Oh, my!”</p>
<p>For the spoon had slipped and a great
splash of milk went on Harriet’s spandy
tablecloth.</p>
<p>“That’s a two-cent spot, isn’t it, Mother?”
asked Sunny Boy sadly.</p>
<p>But Mother shook her head.</p>
<p>“We’ll not begin to count till to-morrow,”
she said kindly. “Only, do remember what
I’ve told you about playing with your food,
Sunny Boy.”</p>
<p>You see, Mother and Sunny Boy had decided
that when a boy was five years old and
came to the table just like other folks, he
shouldn’t make any more crumbs about his
chair, or spill any food on the tablecloth.
If he went a whole week without getting a
spot on the cloth, Mother put ten cents in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span>
his Christmas bank; and for every spot he
had to pay a little fine. That is, he had to
give up a part of the ten cents he would otherwise
have earned.</p>
<p>“Great big splashy spots are two cents,”
Sunny Boy explained to Aunt Betty, who
had not heard of the plan. “Little spicky
spots are only half a cent. And things that
you can’t help spilling—like huckleberries
and blackberries and cranberry sauce—don’t
count at all.”</p>
<p>After supper Sunny Boy was so tired and
sleepy that, although he said he wanted to
go down on the beach and see the moon, he
knew in his own mind he’d go to sleep walking
there; and he stumbled down the hall
and into his pretty bedroom and went to
sleep on the bed without even taking off his
shoes.</p>
<p>Daddy undressed him, only waking him
as he kissed him good-night.</p>
<p>“I may be gone before you’re awake, Laddie,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>
he whispered. “But you know I’m
coming down next Saturday, and we’ll have
great times. You’re the man of the house
while I’m away, remember.”</p>
<p>“All right,” sighed Sunny Boy drowsily.</p>
<p>In the morning he remembered and
jumped out of bed to find Daddy and love
him a little more before he should hurry
away to catch his train.</p>
<p>“He’s gone, precious,” was Mrs. Horton’s
greeting when he pushed back the curtain
that hung between the two rooms. “Come
and get into bed with me a minute. Daddy
was off at five o’clock this morning. Breakfast?
Yes, I made him nice hot coffee and
toast. And now I smell Harriet’s bacon.
You and I had better hurry.”</p>
<p>While they were eating breakfast, a small
nose was flattened against the dining-room
screen door.</p>
<p>“Is Sunny Boy there?” asked a voice.
“Can he come out and play? My cousin<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>
from Fenner is visiting us an’ we want to
build a fort.”</p>
<p>“It’s Ellen,” said Sunny Boy. “Could I
be ’scused, Mother? I ate all my oatmeal
an’ everything.”</p>
<p>“Where are you going to be?” asked Mrs.
Horton, smiling at Ellen. “When we come
down on the beach a little later we want to
be able to find you. And Sunny Boy
mustn’t go in the water unless an older person
is around.”</p>
<p>“No’m,” agreed Ellen obediently. “We
can’t go in either, not till to-morrow. Not
even wading. We’ll play down at the edge
of the old pier. My mother is coming, too,
by and by and she doesn’t like to hunt for
us, so we promised to stay right there.”</p>
<p>“All right then,” said Mrs. Horton.
“Run along, Son. I’m sorry you haven’t a
shovel, but a clam shell answers very well.
The first time I go into town I’ll get you a
pail and shovel.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy found Ellen and Ralph and
the cousin from Fenner awaiting him on the
sidewalk. The cousin was another boy, a
freckle-faced youngster with merry blue eyes
and red hair.</p>
<p>“I’m going to help build it,” Ellen said, as
the four walked down toward the beach.
“Always an’ always I just have to carry
things and sit on things to keep ’em from
blowing away, and this time I want to
build.”</p>
<p>“All right, you may,” promised her
brother. “First we have to find Sunny a
clam shell to dig with.”</p>
<p>The others were carrying pails and
shovels, and Ellen had also a set of sand
dishes with which she could, as she explained
to Sunny Boy, make wonderful cakes and
pies.</p>
<p>“Wet sand is the best,” she informed him,
“but we’ll have to get along with dry till
your mother comes down. Then you and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>
Stephen can go wading and get us some water.”</p>
<p>Stephen was the cousin’s name.</p>
<p>As they climbed over the sand dunes and
came out on the shining sandy beach, a big
black and white spotted dog came running
up to them.</p>
<p>“Hello, Queen!” said Ellen, putting her
arms around the dog’s neck. “Have you
had any breakfast, dear?”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX<br>
<span class="fs80">THE FORT BUILDERS</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“Is</span> that your dog?” Sunny Boy asked
Ellen curiously.</p>
<p>“She isn’t anybody’s dog,” declared Ellen
seriously. “At least, not really. Queen
did belong to Dr. Maynard over in the town,
but she learned to ride on the trolley cars,
and now she won’t stay at home. Every
summer she’s down on the beach all day,
playing.”</p>
<p>“But dogs get hungry,” protested Sunny.
“An’ where can she sleep?”</p>
<p>“She sleeps most anywhere,” said Ellen,
who was spending her third summer in Nestle
Cove and really knew Queen very well
indeed. “Sometimes she sleeps on our front<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>
porch. And my mother always feeds her if
she acts hungry. All the people in the cottages
know Queen.”</p>
<p>“Here’s a shell for you, Sunny,” announced
Ralph, who had been running up
the beach looking for one. “Let’s start the
fort right here in this corner. You mark
how it goes, Stephen.”</p>
<p>Stephen knew all about forts. He had a
big brother who was an officer in the regular
army, and he lived in forts, just as more ordinary
people live in houses.</p>
<p>“First you have a wall,” said Stephen.
“You can begin on that, Ellen. Oh, ’way
off! There, that’s about right. And
Sunny Boy and Ralph and me will make a
great big fort, big enough to get into.”</p>
<p>To measure the height of their fort, they
used one of the old pilings left from the pier
that had burned and had never been rebuilt,
and then they began to heap up the sand.
If Stephen had only known it, what they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>
were building looked far more like an Eskimo’s
hut than it did a fort, but that didn’t
matter as long as the builders were satisfied.</p>
<p>“Now what do you think of that?”
Stephen stood off to admire their work. “I
wish Aunt Hallie would hurry up and come
and see it.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t the wall nice?” asked Ellen, who
had been working every minute to finish her
part of the task. “It’s just as smooth!
Feel, Stephen.”</p>
<p>“Yes, that’s great,” approved Stephen.
“Want to see how it looks inside, Sunny?
Stoop down, and don’t hit your head anywhere,
or you’ll knock it down.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy crawled carefully through the
doorway of the fort. It was hollowed out
inside to make a little room. He was half
way in and half way out when he heard Ellen
exclaim: “Look what Queen has in her
mouth! Do you suppose she got it out of
the water?”</p>
<br>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span></p>
<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="p118" style="max-width: 45.3125em;">
<img class="w100" src="images/p118.jpg" alt="">
<figcaption class="caption"><p class="center no-indent">Sunny Boy crawled carefully through the doorway of the
fort</p>
<p class="right">
<em>Page <a href="#Page_119">119</a></em><br>
</p>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<br>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span></p>
<p>Sunny was curious to know what Queen
had, and he attempted to back out hastily
to see. He forgot that the doorway wasn’t
very high, and when he stood up, bump!
went his yellow head, and down about him
tumbled the sand fort.</p>
<p>“Now you’ve done it!” scolded Stephen,
as Sunny Boy’s feet waved wildly in the air.
“Hurry up and dig, Ralph, he’ll choke!”</p>
<p>Ralph and Ellen dug frantically with
clam shells and spades, but they had dug a
deeper hole than they knew, and Sunny Boy
was really buried under a heavy load of
sand.</p>
<p>“Take the pail,” ordered Stephen, who
was older than Ralph or Ellen, and able to
realize that Sunny Boy might be in danger.
“Ellen, you go and get—” Stephen shaded
his eyes with his hand and looked up the
beach. “You go and get the life-saver’s
rake,” he told her.</p>
<p>Every morning, when the life-savers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>
cleaned up the beach, they used long-handled
wooden rakes. Usually they put these
away in lockers under the pier, but
Stephen’s quick eyes had seen a rake left out
to-day and thrust carelessly under the piling.
The two life-savers were far out beyond the
breakers now, in a rowboat, watching the
bathers.</p>
<p>“I got it!” Ellen came racing back with
the rake. “Let me rake Sunny out,
Stephen.”</p>
<p>“You’re too little. Let go,” said
Stephen. He began to claw at the sand fort
vigorously.</p>
<p>“Here come Mother and Mrs. Horton,”
announced Ellen, just as Stephen and Ralph
together succeeded in uncovering Sunny
Boy.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy sat up, rather frightened and
extremely uncomfortable. There was sand
in his yellow hair, sand in his eyes, and sand
in his mouth.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span></p>
<p>“Ugh!” he spluttered. “Ugh! I
couldn’t see a thing. I couldn’t even
breathe!”</p>
<p>“Why, Sunny Boy, what happened to
you?” asked his mother wonderingly.
“This is Ellen and Ralph’s mother, dear.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Gray smiled down at Sunny. She
was very tall and had gray hair. Sunny
Boy held out his hand to her.</p>
<p>“You got rather the worst of it, didn’t
you?” she said to him. “I think you must
have pulled the sand house down upon you.
But a swim will fix you up. Your mother
tells me you are going in to-day.”</p>
<p>“Aunt Bessie is waiting for you at the
house,” Mrs. Horton told Sunny Boy. “She
and Aunt Betty are going in bathing this
morning. They’ll look after you. I mean
to sit here and sew with Mrs. Gray and
watch you.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy turned to trot off to the bungalow,
but came back.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span></p>
<p>“What did Queen have?” he asked curiously.</p>
<p>“An orange,” answered Ellen promptly.
“I guess she stole it from some one’s lunch
box.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie was sitting on the porch knitting,
a raincoat thrown over her bathing suit.</p>
<p>“I’m going in swimming with you, Aunt
Bessie. Sha’n’t we have fun? Where’s
my bathing suit?” cried the excited Sunny
Boy.</p>
<p>“Your mother left your suit in the house
to the left,” she informed her nephew.
“Want any help, dear?”</p>
<p>“I can undress all right,” Sunny Boy reminded
her reproachfully. “I don’t take
time ’cept when I’m getting dressed.”</p>
<p>Aunt Betty, it seemed, could “swim like a
fish” as Aunt Bessie admiringly admitted.</p>
<p>“Let her hold you, Sunny Boy,” she urged
her little nephew. “You’ll learn to swim
right away if you’re not afraid.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy wasn’t afraid, not the least
bit. Aunt Betty said she would teach him
how to float first, and she carried him out to
where the water was smoother and put him
on his back just as though she were putting
him down on his own soft bed.</p>
<p>“Just keep your head up a bit,” she told
him. “Never mind if the water does come
over your chin—there. I won’t let go, I’m
holding you firmly, dear. Now isn’t that
fun?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy agreed that it was. He tried
floating several times, and then Aunt Betty
carried him back to the beach and he sat
down comfortably and let the waves roll
over him.</p>
<p>“You’re having a beautiful time,” said
Mother’s voice behind him. She had come
up and he had not heard her footsteps in the
soft sand. “I want you to go in and get
dressed now, dear. Why, you’re getting
sunburned already.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy did not want to go in. He
wanted to stay and play longer in the water.
He scuffled his bare feet impatiently,
and a little frown grew on his forehead.</p>
<p>“Why, Sunny Boy!” Mother’s voice
was distinctly surprised. “Here Daddy
left you to look after me, and you make a
fuss the very first thing I ask you to do.
What do you suppose he would say to
that?”</p>
<p>“I’m going,” announced Sunny Boy,
scrambling to his feet. “I’m going this minute,
Mother. Can I have a cracker?”</p>
<p>“‘May I have a cracker?’” corrected Mrs.
Horton. “Well, just one. We’re going to
have an early lunch.”</p>
<p>“All right. Then I’ll tell Harriet just
one cracker.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy ran over the hot sand, up to
the bathhouse, and rubbed so hard with the
rough towels that he was as dry and clean
as could be in the shortest possible time.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>
He put on his sailor suit and went to his
room to brush his hair.</p>
<p>“Mother says I may have one cracker,
please,” he reported to Harriet, whom he
found setting the table in the dining-room.</p>
<p>“’Tis a pink nose, you have,” Harriet
told him frankly. “Never mind, you’ll be
brown as a berry before your father comes
down Saturday. Here’s your cracker now.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy ran down again to the beach
and had time to help Ellen and Ralph build
a schoolhouse in the sand before Mrs. Horton
and the two aunts—for Aunt Betty had
not stayed in the water many minutes after
Sunny Boy came out—gathered up their
magazines and sewing and started back to
the bungalow for lunch.</p>
<p>“Sunny Boy,” said Mother at the table—and,
by the way, Sunny Boy sat in Daddy’s
place when he wasn’t there and tried his best
to behave as the man of the house should—“if
you take a nap this afternoon, you may<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span>
sit up to-night for a couple of hours and go
with us down on the beach.”</p>
<p>Now, Sunny Boy was not fond of taking
naps, and since his fifth birthday he had been
gradually skipping them, since Mother
thought that if a laddie went to bed early
every night and was not cross during the
day he might manage nicely without sleeping
in the afternoon. A cross boy needed a
nap—that was what Mother always said.</p>
<p>“Well, Mother,” answered Sunny slowly,
“I don’t feel sleepy—I don’t suppose I could
go ’less I took a nap?”</p>
<p>“No, indeed,” answered Mother. “No
nap means you go to bed at a quarter of
seven as usual.”</p>
<p>“All right,” agreed Sunny Boy, with a
long breath. “I’ll go and take a nap.”</p>
<p>He went into his room very much like a
soldier going to war. We’re sorry to say
he kicked off his shoes—one of them went<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>
flying across the pretty room and landed on
a chair and the other went under the bed.
Then, dressed as he was, Sunny flung himself
on the bed.</p>
<p>“Can’t go to sleep right in the day-time,”
he grumbled to himself. “I’ll bet Ralph
doesn’t take naps.”</p>
<p>But Sunny Boy didn’t know that plenty
of salt air and an ocean bath and much running
about on a sandy beach can make
a small boy sleepy even against his will; in
the middle of a big yawn, Sunny went to
sleep.</p>
<p>When he woke, he heard his mother moving
about in the next room. He felt hot
and uncomfortable, the way one feels, you
know, when the eyes first open after a nap.
When you’re a baby you cry, but when you
are older, if you don’t watch out, you’re
cross. Sunny Boy felt cross.</p>
<p>“Hello!” his mother lifted the door curtain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>
and smiled at him. “I heard you turn
over, dear. Supper will be ready in a few
minutes.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy sat up in bed.</p>
<p>“Supper!” he echoed. “Why, Mother, is
it night?”</p>
<p>“It’s nearly six,” Mrs. Horton told him.
“You’ve had a fine long nap. Now I’ll help
you wash, dear, and when you get into a
fresh suit you’ll begin to feel happier. And
then I’ll tell you what fun we are going to
have to-night.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X<br>
<span class="fs80">THE MARSHMALLOW ROAST</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“Tell</span> me now,” urged Sunny Boy, sitting
down on the floor to put on
clean white socks. “Is Daddy coming?”</p>
<p>“I wish he were,” said Mrs. Horton
quickly. “No, precious, we’ll have to wait
till Saturday for that. This is Aunt Bessie’s
plan, and we’ll let her explain it.
There! slip on the tan sailor suit and I’ll tie
your tie, and then we shall be ready.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy, looking as shining and neat as
a brand new pin, rushed ahead of Mother
to find Aunt Bessie. She was in the porch
swing, and just as he reached her, Harriet
rang the gong for supper.</p>
<p>“Hurry up, Auntie,” implored Sunny.
“Mother says we are going to have fun to-night.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>
What is it? May I go? Is Harriet
going?”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie smiled.</p>
<p>“Of course you are going,” she assured
him. “Didn’t you take a nap so you could
go to this party? We’re going to build a
fire down on the beach and toast marshmallows.
What do you think of that?”</p>
<p>Sunny thought it sounded delightful.</p>
<p>“But Harriet’s toaster is broken,” he said
doubtfully. “She can’t use it, can she,
Mother? Did you buy a new one,
Auntie?”</p>
<p>“You wait till you see how we’ll do it,”
answered Aunt Bessie gaily. “We’ll find a
way. Harriet is going to the movies in
town to-night, and we’ll toast our own
marshmallows over our own fire. My goodness,
Olive, I never thought of the fire!
Can we find enough dry wood?”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton was sure there would be
enough wood on the beach.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span></p>
<p>“Maybe Queen will come,” suggested
Sunny Boy, who had grown very fond of the
wise, friendly dog. “I should think she’d be
lonesome at night.”</p>
<p>“We’ll ask her to the marshmallow roast,”
said Aunt Bessie kindly.</p>
<p>Soon after supper they all went down to
the beach, Aunt Bessie carrying a box of
marshmallows, and Sunny the safety
matches. Mrs. Horton and Miss Martinson
brought a rug to spread on the sand.</p>
<p>“Let’s go up a way,” suggested Aunt Bessie,
as they reached the sand. “There’s a
fine smooth stretch around that bend, and we
can sit and watch the water till it is darker.”</p>
<p>They found a place where the sand was
dry but not too powdery, and Mrs. Horton
spread out the rug. For a little while no
one spoke, and Sunny Boy, his elbow in
Mother’s lap, was content to count the waves
coming in and running back again as they
did forever and forever.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span></p>
<p>“Now look,” whispered Mother presently.</p>
<p>Away out to sea, apparently, a silver disc
was rising. They could see it grow larger
and larger.</p>
<p>“It’s the moon,” said Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“And now we’ll build our fire,” announced
Aunt Bessie, rising. “I’ve had my
eye on that driftwood over there for the
last half hour. Sunny Boy and I will get
it.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy and Aunt Bessie carried over
the wood, which proved to be light, dry
pieces and was once, Aunt Bessie said, probably
orange crates on some fruit steamer.</p>
<p>“Now we fold the paper under so,” said
Auntie, when the wood was ready. “You
may light it, Sunny Boy. Stand back, dear.
There! isn’t that a splendid blaze? Oh, no,
we don’t toast the marshmallows yet! We
have to wait for the fire to burn down to
red-hot coals. You watch.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy watched.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span></p>
<p>“I think,” he said politely, “the fire’s going
out.”</p>
<p>Aunt Bessie looked and laughed.</p>
<p>“I think it is, too,” she admitted.
“Maybe we didn’t use enough paper.”</p>
<p>“Let me try,” said Mrs. Horton.</p>
<p>She folded more paper, arranged the
wood, and touched a match to the pile. The
flames shot up, and in a moment or so they
heard the crackling that told them the wood
had caught and would burn.</p>
<p>“Mother can do it,” said Sunny Boy
proudly. “Where’s the pan, Aunt Bessie?”</p>
<p>“Oh, lambie, we don’t want a pan,” protested
Aunt Bessie. “See these nice, clean
sticks I’ve saved? Well, we put a marshmallow
on the end, so—and hold it out to
the blaze, so—and then when it begins to
brown we eat it—so!” and Aunt Bessie held
out a delicious, creamy brown marshmallow
to the interested Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“Now let me try,” said Sunny Boy.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>
“And the first one shall be for Aunt Bessie,
’cause it’s her party.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy put his marshmallow carefully
on the pointed end of the stick, then held it
out over the fire. But poor Sunny Boy held
the candy too near the glowing coals, and it
was burnt to a crisp.</p>
<p>“Oh!”</p>
<p>“Never mind, Sunny Boy,” said Mother.
“The next one will be all right. We don’t
often get anything just right the first time.”</p>
<p>And the next one was plump and brown,
and Aunt Bessie said it tasted delicious.</p>
<p>“Where do you suppose Queen is?” asked
Sunny Boy, toasting a particularly fat
marshmallow for his mother. “Maybe the
fire scares her.”</p>
<p>“No, I’ll tell you,” said Miss Martinson,
pulling Sunny Boy back a little from the
fire. “I think Queen must have gone home
with some of the children to spend the night.
She’s getting old, you know, and I dare say<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span>
the sand feels damp to her after the sun goes
down.”</p>
<p>Whatever the reason, no Queen was seen
by Sunny Boy that night. He saved two
candies for the dog in case she did come, but
at last he had to eat them himself.</p>
<p>They toasted marshmallows till all declared
that not another one could they eat,
and then they covered the fire with sand.
Not for worlds would Sunny Boy have said
a word about being sleepy, but he had
yawned several times when he thought no
one saw him, and he was secretly glad when
Mother announced that they must go home.</p>
<p>“I like staying up,” he declared, trotting
along beside her through the soft sand, while
Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson walked
ahead. “If I took a nap every day could I
always stay up?”</p>
<p>“Oh, that wouldn’t be a good plan at all,”
replied Mother seriously. “All the naps
you might take wouldn’t make up for the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>
sleep you lost. You’ll have years of nights
to play and work in when you grow up, precious.
Nights were made for little boys to
sleep in so they’ll grow up big and strong.”</p>
<p>After they reached the bungalow, Mrs.
Horton went in with Sunny and helped him
get ready for bed. After she had gone
again, he lay for a little while listening to
the roar of the waves as they broke on the
beach and watching the shadows the moonlight
made in the room before he went to
sleep.</p>
<p>“I have to go into town to do a bit of marketing,”
Harriet informed him the next day
when after breakfast he wandered out into
her kitchen and proceeded to poke his yellow
head into the pantry. “Sunny Boy, you
know your mother doesn’t like to have you
help yourself to food. What are you doing
in there?”</p>
<p>“Just lookin’,” answered Sunny amiably.</p>
<p>“Well, stop it,” said Harriet, pouring<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>
cream into her coffee. Harriet was eating
her breakfast. “As I said, I’m going to
town, and if you want to go with me in the
jitney—”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy bounced out of the pantry.</p>
<p>“Take me with you,” he begged.</p>
<p>“You go and ask your mother if she is
willing,” replied Harriet. “I’m going right
away without stopping to wash the dishes.
And we have to hurry back because I want to
wash windows this morning. Hurry,
now.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy hurried. Mother was willing,
he reported in a few minutes, and he and
Harriet started a quarter of an hour later.
They caught a jitney without trouble, and
ten minutes’ ride brought them to the town.
Harriet brushed by all the interesting shops,
and even the merry-go-round, and took
Sunny to the butcher’s shop. He didn’t
care about a butcher shop—he saw plenty of
those at home.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span></p>
<p>“Let’s go on the merry-go-round,” he suggested,
when Harriet had her package in the
large bag she carried and was on the way to
the grocer’s store. “And I haven’t had a
soda for ever and ever so long, Harriet.”</p>
<p>“Well, Sunny Boy, I haven’t a minute,”
explained Harriet kindly. “There’s all the
work waiting for me at the house. But I
suppose if you don’t get a ride on that contraption—If
I take you for just one will you
promise not to tease for another?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy promised, and they had an all-too-short,
thrilling, whirling ride, Sunny
mounted on a camel and Harriet dizzily
perched on a giraffe. Then they stopped in
the grocer’s and bought some lettuce and had
to hurry for a jitney, because they only ran
every twenty minutes, and if you missed one
it meant a long wait.</p>
<p>“What big clouds,” said Sunny Boy,
kneeling on the seat to look out of the jitney
window.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span></p>
<p>“They look like thunder clouds,” commented
Harriet. “I shouldn’t be surprised
if we had a storm this afternoon. Our
street is next, Sunny. You pay the man
and tell him to stop.”</p>
<p>Ellen and Ralph and Stephen, lined up
in a little row, waited for Sunny at his top
doorstep. They wanted him to come down
and go in wading, they said.</p>
<p>“Your mother said it would be all right,
’cause my mother is on the beach. She has
her knitting,” said Ellen. “Let’s hurry
’fore it gets any hotter.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI<br>
<span class="fs80">SUNNY BOY TO THE RESCUE</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> sun was very hot on the beach, so
hot that Mrs. Gray declared that she
was fairly baked under her umbrella and
that she did not see how the children stood
the direct rays.</p>
<p>“Queen is hot, too,” said Sunny Boy pityingly.</p>
<p>The dog lay and panted, her red tongue
hanging out, too warm and uncomfortable
to do more than feebly wag her tail when
one of the children patted her.</p>
<p>The ocean was crowded with bathers, trying
to get cool, and Aunt Bessie, Miss Martinson,
and Sunny’s mother came up to them
presently, their bathing suits dripping.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span></p>
<p>“It feels so much like a thunderstorm,
that we’re going up to the house and dress,”
said Mrs. Horton. “No one but a Hottentot
or a youngster could stand the sun to-day.
The clouds look threatening off there.
Does Nestle Cove have very severe storms?”</p>
<p>“Pretty heavy sometimes,” admitted Mrs.
Gray, knitting steadily. “I remember last
year we had one that crippled the electric
light service. I’ll send Sunny Boy up in
an hour or so, shall I? Or may we keep him
to lunch? The children would love to have
him.”</p>
<p>“I’m nervous in a storm,” confessed Mrs.
Horton. “I think I’d feel better if he were
with me. Don’t let him stay out much past
noon.”</p>
<p>So when the town whistle blew the long
shrill blast that meant twelve o’clock, Mrs.
Gray gathered up her knitting and signaled
to the four children down at the water’s
edge.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span></p>
<p>“You’re just as tanned!” said Stephen to
Sunny Boy, as they began to put on their
shoes and stockings.</p>
<p>Indeed, Sunny Boy’s face and hands and
legs were a soft, even brown now, and his
nose was brown with little gold freckles
powdered generously over it.</p>
<p>“Whee! see the clouds,” shouted Ralph,
pointing inland. “Don’t they look like
castles and mountains, Mother?”</p>
<p>“Or snow pudding,” said Ellen.</p>
<p>“My, what a big snow pudding!” and
Sunny Boy giggled at the thought.</p>
<p>“Don’t dawdle, children,” warned Mrs.
Gray. “I heard thunder a few minutes ago.
We left all the windows up, you know.
Ready, Sunny Boy? Then we’ll start.”</p>
<p>Harriet had luncheon ready when Sunny
Boy reached home, and while they were eating
a violent peal of thunder rumbled overhead.
Before the dessert was served the sun
had gone out and thick black clouds were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>
hurrying through the sky. All the blue had
gone out of the sea, and it was a sullen gray
with white-caps showing far out.</p>
<p>“It’s a regular gale,” announced Harriet
breathlessly. She had been out to get her
dish-towels that had been flapping in the
wind. “I never saw a sky change so
quickly. Shall I put the windows down,
Mrs. Horton?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” answered Sunny’s mother. “It is
beginning to rain. Come, folks, let’s go into
the living-room and watch.”</p>
<p>The living-room had a big window that
gave a glimpse of the ocean, though the
bungalow faced the street. There was a
fine deep window seat heaped high with
cushions, and Sunny Boy took one of these
and put it in a chair behind his mother’s
back, as he had seen his Daddy do.</p>
<p>“Thank you, dearest,” she said. “Sit on
the arm of my chair and we’ll both be comfortable.
Bessie, tell Harriet to come in.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>
Never mind the dishes, they can wait.”</p>
<p>So Harriet came in, and she and Miss
Martinson sat on the window seat, though
Aunt Bessie and Sunny Boy and Mother
preferred to be a little further back.</p>
<p>Zip! a great jagged streak of lightning
split the black sky.</p>
<p>“I guess that struck a wave!” gasped
Sunny Boy, as a tremendous clap of thunder
followed.</p>
<p>“More like a house,” returned Harriet.
“I’m glad the telephone is in the other
room.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense,” Mrs. Horton was beginning,
when there was a sharp crackling noise in
the dining-room, a flash, and a smell as of
rubber burning.</p>
<p>“What was it?” asked Mrs. Horton.</p>
<p>“Fuse burned out,” explained Aunt Bessie,
who had run to see. “That’s a common
occurrence in the country and out-of-the-way
places like this. Listen to that!”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span></p>
<p>A great blaze of lightning showed them
the street—“light as day,” Sunny said—and
then a sheet of water blown by the
wind rattled against the house and windows.</p>
<p>“Will it wreck ships?” asked Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“We’ll hope not, precious,” returned
Mother, hugging him. “Often when there
is a storm on shore it is calm a few miles out
at sea. But there will be a high tide and
rough water for a couple of days, I’m afraid.
You’ll see driftwood on the beach to-morrow.”</p>
<p>“I wonder what Queen does when it
rains,” speculated Sunny, his thoughts turning
to the friendly dog who roamed the sand
and never seemed to have a home.</p>
<p>“I think Queen goes under a pier and stays
till the storm is over,” said Miss Martinson.
“And I think the worst of this storm is passed
now. What is it, Harriet?”</p>
<p>“I can’t make out what it is,” said Harriet,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>
her voice puzzled. “I guess it is alive,
but it doesn’t move—”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy slipped down from the arm of
his mother’s chair and ran over to the window.
He flattened his nose against the
rain-spattered glass and peered out. Then,
without a word to any one, he ran from the
room.</p>
<p>“Sunny! Sunny Boy! where are you going?”
called Mrs. Horton.</p>
<p>“That crazy child’s gone right out into the
rain,” cried Harriet, running to the front
door. The others followed her.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was out in the middle of the
street, bending over a little object that lay
in the road. As his mother reached the door
he picked it up and came running back, his
eyes shining, the water dripping from his
yellow hair.</p>
<p>“It’s alive, Mother!” he shouted. “Do
you s’pose the lightning struck it?”</p>
<p>“Sunny Boy!” said Mrs. Horton drawing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span>
him in and closing the door, while a peal of
thunder rattled the windows again, “what
made you run out in the storm like that?”</p>
<p>“Why, it’s a dog,” explained Sunny Boy,
wide-eyed. “A little dog, Mother, and it
was right in the middle of the street. An
automobile might run right over it and never
see it.”</p>
<p>“Bring it out into the kitchen, the poor
thing,” said Harriet. “I noticed it ten minutes
ago, but I couldn’t make out whether
’twas a bundle of rags or something alive.
Here, I’ll turn on the light. Let’s see what
kind of dog you’ve got.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy put the dog into the apron
Harriet held out. Two big brown eyes
looked out from a tangled mass of silky hair
that should have been white, but was now
spotted and streaked with red mud, and a
curly tail wagged gently.</p>
<p>“Why, it’s a little beauty!” exclaimed
Aunt Bessie. “Poor thing, it’s so cold it’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span>
about exhausted. Some one’s pet I suppose,
and these house dogs can’t stand exposure.
What shall we feed it?”</p>
<p>“Warm milk, wouldn’t you, Harriet?”
asked Mrs. Horton. “And then, if it drinks
it, we’ll put it in a box with a bit of clean
flannel over it and let it sleep. I don’t believe
it is much more than a puppy.”</p>
<p>Soon the little dog had gratefully lapped
up the warm milk Harriet brought it, and
had been put in a comfortable box and
warmly covered. The storm was quite
over, and the sun was shining out again.</p>
<p>“Can we keep him?” asked Sunny Boy,
changing his shoes which had got wet in his
trip to rescue the dog. “May I have him to
play with, Mother?”</p>
<p>“Why, dear, it is in all likelihood some
one’s pet,” explained Mrs. Horton. “If
you lost your pet dog, think how you would
feel till you found it. We must make inquiry
among the cottages to find if any one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>
has lost a dog, and we’ll pin a notice up on
the post-office bulletin, too. I don’t want
you to get too attached to the dog, for I am
sure its owner will soon claim it. But, of
course, till that happens, you may play with
it as much as you like.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy went down to the beach before
supper and found that the storm had carried
away part of the fishing pier. The waves
were higher than usual and the wet sand
made walking difficult. He met Ralph and
told him about the dog.</p>
<p>“He can play with Queen,” Ralph suggested.
“What are you going to call him?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy had not thought of naming the
dog, because he thought of course it was already
named by the person who had lost it.
But Ralph did not agree, and said:</p>
<p>“The dog can’t talk and tell you who he is.
He needs a name as much as ever, and I
think, Sunny, that you should give him a
name to go by till his own is learned.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span></p>
<p>“All right then, call him Curly,” suggested
Sunny Boy. “He has long, curly hair.
Mother says she is going to wash him, and
then he’ll be pure white. Maybe she will
let him sleep with me.”</p>
<p>But Mrs. Horton, questioned on the subject
that night, did not approve of dogs
sleeping on nice, white beds.</p>
<p>“If you want him to, Curly may sleep on a
rug in your room,” she told Sunny Boy.
“But not on the bed. If you allow him to
jump up, he’ll have to go and sleep in his
box in the kitchen.”</p>
<p>Curly proved to be a very popular addition
to the family. Although Mrs. Horton
asked nearly every one she met, and wrote
out a description of Curly and pinned it on
the lost-and-found bulletin in the Nestle
Cove post-office, no one claimed the dog.
When Mr. Horton came down the next Saturday
and took them all out driving, Curly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>
perched on Sunny’s lap in the front seat and
very plainly enjoyed the trip.</p>
<p>“He’s used to riding in a car,” said Mr.
Horton. “I wonder why no one advertises
for him or tries to find him.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I can keep him always,” said
Sunny hopefully. “He can sit up, Daddy,
and beg, and play dead. I think he’s a very
educated dog.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII<br>
<span class="fs80">SUNNY BOY IS NAUGHTY</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">Curly</span> proved to be a happy-natured
little dog, and was soon a great favorite
with all the children who played on the
beach.</p>
<p>“I wish I had one just like him,” said
Ellen.</p>
<p>“I’d rather have a bigger dog,” said Ralph.
“One, maybe, as big as Queen.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” declared Sunny Boy, “no other dog
could be as nice as Curly! Though Queen
is nice, too, and I like her awful much,” he
added, feeling that if Queen could know
what he had just said her feelings might be
hurt.</p>
<p>At first Sunny Boy had an uneasy feeling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>
that the dog might be claimed any day, but
as two weeks went by and no one came to
look for a lost bow-wow, this feeling gradually
vanished entirely. “Curly” was, in
Sunny’s mind, his own dog.</p>
<p>“I wish I had something to do,” sighed
Sunny Boy one warm morning.</p>
<p>“Find Ellen and Ralph and play with
them,” suggested Mrs. Horton promptly.
She was sitting in the porch swing, mending.
Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson had gone
up to the city to shop.</p>
<p>“Their father took ’em sailing,” Sunny
Boy explained disconsolately, referring to
Ellen and Ralph. “I wish Daddy stayed
here all the time. We could go fishing,
too.”</p>
<p>“Well, you know what Daddy would say
if he were here about little boys who are always
wishing for what they have not,” said
Mrs. Horton, rummaging in her stocking bag
for tan cotton to darn a huge hole in one of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span>
Sunny’s socks. “You’ve ever so many
pleasant things to do, dear. Don’t sit there
and grumble.”</p>
<p>“I can’t do anything at all!” Sunny Boy
was in a perverse mood. “I can’t go swimming,
’less some one is there watching me.
And I can’t drive the car, ’cause nobody will
teach me. An’ you sew all the time and
don’t ’muse me at all!”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy felt so sorry for himself that
two big tears ran out of his blue eyes and
splashed down on Curly, asleep in his lap.</p>
<p>“Why Arthur Horton!” Mother’s voice
was gentle. “That doesn’t sound like my
little Sunny Boy. Who ever heard of amusing
a laddie with a dog to romp with and
the whole beautiful seashore for a playground?
You and Curly run down to the
beach now, and see if you can’t find some
more of those shells Aunt Bessie is saving to
make into souvenirs. And this afternoon
we’ll go to meet their train with the car.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span></p>
<p>“I don’t want to hunt shells,” grumbled
Sunny Boy, kicking his feet against the step.</p>
<p>“You’ll have to go to your room and stay
till lunch time if you can’t find something
pleasant to do,” said Mrs. Horton, firmly.
She did not look at Sunny Boy at all, but at
her darning.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy felt as cross as two sticks. He
didn’t know why, and perhaps there wasn’t
any reason. If you had asked him, he would
have said that every one was mean to him.</p>
<p>Mother continued to sew steadily. Suddenly
a mischievous idea popped into
Sunny’s mind. He put down Curly and ran
to his own room. When he came out he
went out of the house the back way, and
slammed the screen-door without speaking
to Harriet, who was busy ironing. You
know, don’t you, how it does relieve your
feelings to slam doors? Well, Sunny Boy,
who was really as bad as he could be that
morning, felt better directly. He even<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>
tried to whistle as he went down the street.</p>
<p>He knew exactly what he was going to
do. He was going to town and ride on the
merry-go-round and have an ice-cream cone.
They had been in Nestle Cove over three
weeks, and he had been to town only that
once with Harriet.</p>
<p>“All the other children go,” Sunny Boy
said to himself, hailing the rattling old jitney
as it came past the corner. He had
taken good care to walk two blocks down the
road so that no one from his house could see
him.</p>
<p>He had a pocketful of pennies that jingled
merrily. Daddy on his last visit had
added to the store in the pasteboard box that
stood on Sunny’s bureau, and Mother and
the aunties often dropped pennies in, too.
Sunny Boy was sure he had enough money
to go to the city with, had he wished
to go.</p>
<p>“Goin’ far?” the jitney driver asked.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span>
There were only three other passengers in
his bus.</p>
<p>“To town,” Sunny assured him cheerfully.
“Is the merry-go-round running
yet?”</p>
<p>“Well, ’tis, if it didn’t burn down last
night,” said the jitney driver. “I was over
that way ’bout ten o’clock, and she sure was
crowded.”</p>
<p>The jitney bus went only as far as the
post-office, and Sunny paid his fare there,
counting out the five pennies slowly, and
jumped down. He remembered where the
merry-go-round was, and if he had not, the
music would have led him to it.</p>
<p>“What are you going on?” asked a boy
slightly older than Sunny, as they stood
watching the whirling figures and waiting
for the thing to stop. “I’ve been on everything
’cept the tigers, an’ this time I’m going
on one of ’em.”</p>
<p>“I’d like a zebra,” announced Sunny Boy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>
shyly. “Or maybe a horse—they go up and
down, don’t they?”</p>
<p>“Well, if you’ve money enough, buy two
tickets and you can stay right on for two
rides,” advised his new friend. “Let’s see.
Oh, yes, you can buy two. More than two
at a time is apt to make you dizzy. Look,
she’s going to stop!”</p>
<p>The merry-go-round did stop with a dismal
groan, and Sunny Boy scrambled on with
a crowd of eager children. Most of them
had mothers or older brothers and sisters with
them, and when the attendant came to Sunny
Boy and lifted him up, he seemed inclined
to stay there and hold him on.</p>
<p>“I won’t fall off,” urged Sunny with dignity.</p>
<p>“Then you’ll have to be strapped on,” said
the man, smiling. “Can’t have you flying
into space when your frisky steed gets to
going, you know. There! now you’re safe,
and no one will notice that belt.”</p>
<br>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span></p>
<figure class="figcenter illowp85" id="p160" style="max-width: 45.1875em;">
<img class="w100" src="images/p160.jpg" alt="">
<figcaption class="caption"><p class="center no-indent">Sunny Boy’s horse went up and down—in time to the music</p>
<p class="right"><em>Page <a href="#Page_161">161</a></em></p></figcaption>
</figure>
<br>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p>
<p>After the first ride the man came and unbuckled
the belt, and, when Sunny Boy
showed his second ticket, lifted him down
and up again on a cream-colored horse. He
fastened the belt snugly about him, and the
merry-go-round started gayly. Sunny Boy’s
horse went up and down—in time to the
music it seemed to him—and he was very
happy.</p>
<p>When the music stopped and the platform
was still, the attendant came and lifted him
down. The floor wobbled under Sunny
Boy’s feet and he felt a bit shaky, but as he
walked away he was all right again.</p>
<p>Across the street from the merry-go-round
was a large open booth where soda water was
sold. There were people sitting at all four
sides of the fountain and a handsome motor
car was drawn up at the curb before it.</p>
<p>“I’ll get chocolate, with ice-cream,” Sunny
Boy decided, jingling his remaining pennies.</p>
<p>He climbed up, with some difficulty, on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span>
one of the high stools, and gave his order.
The white-jacketed boy back of the counter
brought it to him, and with it a pale green
check.</p>
<p>“Good, isn’t it?” smiled the white-haired
lady who sat next to Sunny Boy, as he took
the first spoonful.</p>
<p>Sunny nodded and smiled, not knowing
just what to say.</p>
<p>He had half finished when the boy in the
white jacket came back to him.</p>
<p>“Fifteen cents, please,” he said politely.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy put his hand in his pocket and
brought out a little heap of pennies. He
pushed them toward the green check.</p>
<p>“Only eleven cents here,” said the boy impatiently.
“Four cents more, please.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy looked at him silently, clutching
his soda glass tightly with both hands.</p>
<p>“What is it, dear?” asked the white-haired
lady, who was pulling on her gloves, having<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>
finished her soda water. “Haven’t you
enough money?”</p>
<p>Sunny’s lower lip trembled. He shook
his head. There was a big lump in his
throat, and he couldn’t have spoken had he
tried.</p>
<p>“How much is it? I’ll pay for it,” said
the lady, fumbling in her purse. “Give the
child his pennies, and take the check out of
this.” She pushed a bill toward the boy.</p>
<p>“Now drink your soda, dear,” she went on
kindly. “Do you live here in the town?”</p>
<p>“He lives over in the summer colony,”
volunteered the boy, bringing back the
change. “My father’s postmaster and he
knows every one. I don’t believe his folks
know he’s over here alone. Do they,
Buddy?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy put down his spoon and got
off the stool. He didn’t like to be called
buddy, and he had just remembered that his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>
mother didn’t know where he was. She
would worry if he was not home at lunch
time.</p>
<p>“Take your money, kid,” said the boy, who
really meant to be kind. “How are you going
to pay jitney fare without a cent in your
pocket? Here, take it.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy thrust the pennies back in his
pocket.</p>
<p>“Thank you very much,” he said to the
white-haired lady. “I think perhaps my
mother wants me now.”</p>
<p>The soda fountain boy laughed, but the
lady did not. She was very sweet and serious.</p>
<p>“I wish you’d let me take you home in my
car,” she suggested, quite as one friend to
another. “You may have to wait for a jitney
fifteen or twenty minutes, and my chauffeur
can have you home in less time than
that. What do you say?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy nodded, and they got into the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span>
beautiful pale gray car, the tall young chauffeur
holding open the door for them. He
wore a gray uniform and the light linen robe
he spread over them was gray, too.</p>
<p>“Curly has hair just like yours,” said
Sunny Boy suddenly. He had been studying
the white-haired lady, and he paid her
the biggest compliment he could. He
thought Curly’s silky white hair very lovely.</p>
<p>The lady smiled.</p>
<p>“Who is Curly?” she asked.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy told her about the little dog
he had found in the storm, how pretty it was,
and how many tricks it could do. The
white-haired lady sat up straighter and
straighter, and the prettiest pink came into
her cheeks under her gray veil.</p>
<p>“Carlton, do you hear?” she cried to the
chauffeur. “I believe this child has found
Bon-Bon!”</p>
<p>“Bon-Bon?” echoed Sunny Boy, bewildered.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span></p>
<p>“Yes, Bon-Bon, my dear little dog. My
son brought him to me from France. Is he
very tiny, with a sharp little black nose and
slim feet? I thought so! Why you don’t
know how glad I am! And to think you’ve
been taking such wonderful care of him all
this time!” The white-haired lady threw
her arms around Sunny Boy and hugged him
tightly.</p>
<p>“There he is now,” said the chauffeur,
stopping the car before the Horton bungalow.</p>
<p>Curly, or Bon-Bon as the lady called him,
sat on the top step of the porch, watching
them.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII<br>
<span class="fs80">CURLY IS FOUND</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> white-haired lady was out of the
car the instant it stopped and up the
walk, her silk skirts flying in the wind.</p>
<p>“Bon-Bon! Bon-Bon!” she called.
Then she said something that Sunny Boy
could not understand. Afterward she told
him that it was French for “Littlest one.”</p>
<p>Curly leaped upon her, barking madly.</p>
<p>The lady took him in her arms and sat
down on the step, and, to Sunny Boy’s
amazement, began to cry.</p>
<p>The noise of the dog’s barking brought
Mrs. Horton to the door.</p>
<p>“Why, Sunny Boy, where in the world
have you been?” she said quickly. “It’s almost<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>
one o’clock. Harriet was just going
down to the beach to look for you.”</p>
<p>Then she saw the strange car at the curb
and the strange lady on her doorstep. The
lady stood up and held out her hand.</p>
<p>“I am Mrs. Raymond,” she said. “Colonel
Francis Raymond’s wife. I believe my
husband has met Mr. Horton. And now I
find your little boy has found my pet dog.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton was very much surprised and
greatly pleased to learn that at last Curly’s
own people had been found. She asked
Mrs. Raymond to come in and stay to lunch
with them, but Mrs. Raymond had an appointment
at two o’clock several miles away
with the colonel, and lunch would be ready
there for the white-haired lady. She and
Mrs. Horton talked very fast, and Sunny
Boy could not understand all they said.</p>
<p>“We advertised and put up a bulletin
notice,” he heard Mother say, “and we
couldn’t understand why no one claimed the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span>
dog. It was so evidently a pet, that we
knew it couldn’t have been abandoned, and
though exhausted by the storm, it seemed so
well-fed we were sure it had not been lost
very long.”</p>
<p>“I lost him the same day you found him,”
explained Mrs. Raymond. “Carlton, the
chauffeur, was taking the car up to Draper
Inlet to get my husband. That’s twenty
miles up the coast from our cottage, and Bon-Bon
loves so to ride that he never misses a
chance to go in the car. He rode in the
back and the hood was down and I suppose
he was on top of that, as he often was. Carlton
was trying to make the inlet before the
storm, and I imagine he drove at a pretty
hard pace. Bon-Bon was evidently jolted
out going through Nestle Cove, and neither
my husband nor Carlton thought of the dog
again till they reached home and I asked for
him.”</p>
<p>“And of course you didn’t know where he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>
was lost,” said Mrs. Horton sympathetically.</p>
<p>“No, though my husband and Carlton
hunted and hunted. But now everything
is all right again. Sunny Boy has made me
very happy!”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton walked with her guest toward
the door.</p>
<p>“But what I don’t understand yet,” she
said, puzzled, “is how you met Sunny Boy
and he mentioned the dog. Were you out
searching?”</p>
<p>Sunny’s face got very red.</p>
<p>“No, I’d simply stopped in town to get a
cool soda before going on to meet Colonel
Raymond,” said Mrs. Raymond. “I think
Sunny Boy had better tell you all about it.
Kiss me good-by, dear. I’m going to send
you the very nicest thing I can buy in the
city for being so good to my dog. You
won’t feel too bad if I take him away now,
will you, Sunny Boy?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span></p>
<p>“No, I—I guess not,” quavered Sunny
Boy uncertainly.</p>
<p>He kissed Mrs. Raymond, and gave Bon-Bon,
for we might as well call the dog by its
right name now that we know it, a big hug.
Then he sat down on the top step while Mrs.
Horton walked with Bon-Bon’s owner to the
car. They stood there several minutes,
talking, and then Mrs. Raymond got in and
drove away.</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton came up the path, but Sunny
Boy did not look at her. He was studying
a crack in the step with great interest.</p>
<p>“Lunch is on the table, Mrs. Horton,” announced
Harriet. “Most everything’s
spoiled, it’s so late.”</p>
<p>“I’m ever so sorry, Harriet, but it couldn’t
be helped this time,” answered Sunny’s
mother pleasantly. “Sunny Boy, I want
you to go to your room. Harriet will bring
you a bowl of bread and milk, and when you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>
have eaten that I’m coming in to talk to
you.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy went slowly to his room.
When Harriet brought the bread and milk,
he ate it. In perhaps half an hour his
mother came into the room, closing the door
quietly.</p>
<p>She drew a low rocking chair near the
window where Sunny Boy stood looking out,
and, sitting down, put her arm about him.</p>
<p>“Now tell Mother all about it,” she said,
gently turning Sunny Boy around so that he
faced her.</p>
<p>“I wanted to go on the merry-go-round,”
explained Sunny Boy, tracing with his forefinger
the outline of one of the pink roses
that grew on Mother’s pretty white dress.</p>
<p>“Well?”</p>
<p>“So I went to town—” Sunny Boy began
on another rose.</p>
<p>“And you didn’t ask me? Did you run
away, Sunny Boy?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p>
<p>Sunny Boy was very uncomfortable. His
throat didn’t feel right. And he couldn’t
look at his own dear mother, though usually
he loved to watch her face. He wasn’t a
<em>Sunny</em> Boy just now.</p>
<p>“Did you run away, Arthur?” she asked
again.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy nodded miserably, still fingering
the pink roses.</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton did not say anything for a
moment. She seemed to be thinking.
Then she gathered both of Sunny Boy’s small
hands in her smooth, soft right hand, keeping
her left arm around him.</p>
<p>“Listen to Mother carefully, dear,” she
said firmly. “This all happened because
you were cross. Any other morning you
would have found something pleasant to do.
But when a little boy makes up his mind to
be cross and not to be pleased with anything
he usually winds up by doing something
naughty.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span></p>
<p>Two big tears fell out of Sunny Boy’s eyes
and rolled down his cheeks. He was very
unhappy.</p>
<p>“What do you suppose Daddy would say,”
continued his mother, “if he knew you had
gone over to town without saying a word to
me? I think he would say that he was surprised
and grieved to learn that his only son
couldn’t be trusted. Because that is what it
really means—that Daddy and Mother can
not trust a little boy who, just because the
day doesn’t go to suit him, runs away and
lets his mother worry about him.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy put his yellow head down in
Mother’s lap and cried as though his heart
would break.</p>
<p>“Don’t you really trust me, Mother?” he
managed to sob out.</p>
<p>Mother’s soft arms drew him into her lap.</p>
<p>“Well, yes, I do,” she admitted, smoothing
his hair. “Because, you see, dear, I think
you are sorry and will not do it again. Being<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span>
sorry makes all the difference in the
world.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy sat up, and this time he found
he could look right into Mother’s deep brown
eyes.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry—honest,” he told the little
boy he saw there.</p>
<p>“All right, I believe you,” Mother assured
him promptly. “I think you will have to
stay here in your room till supper time to
help you remember not to be cross again, and
after that we’ll forget about it. Now tell
Mother what you did over in town.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy told her all about his trip, from
the jitney and merry-go-round rides to his
experience at the soda fountain where kind
Mrs. Raymond had paid for his soda-water.</p>
<p>“An’ wasn’t it funny Curly was her dog?”
he wound up.</p>
<p>“Yes, indeed,” agreed Mother. “I’m glad
the dog found his mistress. There, I hear
the clock striking three. I must go to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span>
station to meet Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson.”</p>
<p>“I s’pect they’ll wonder where I am,” said
Sunny Boy sadly.</p>
<p>“They probably will,” sighed Mother.
“Never mind, Son, just remember you are
never going to run away again.”</p>
<p>And Sunny Boy did remember.</p>
<p>“Why did Mrs. Raymond cry when she
found Curly?” he asked, as Mrs. Horton
turned to leave the room. “Did her little
boy die in the war?”</p>
<p>“No, dear,” answered Mrs. Horton. “He
came home from France and brought his
mother the dog you call Curly and she calls
Bon-Bon. But her son—he was a Captain—lived
only a few months after he landed
in this country; he was invalided home. So,
you see, poor little Bon-Bon means a great
deal to Mrs. Raymond because her boy
thought to bring him all the way from
France to his mother.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span></p>
<p>After Mother had gone—Sunny Boy heard
the noise of the car as it started for the station,
though his room was on the wrong
side of the house to see the garage—he
thought a great deal about the little lost
dog and the brave soldier who had brought
it home to his mother. The more he
thought, the gladder Sunny Boy was to
know that Mrs. Raymond had her dog
again.</p>
<p>Two or three days later he was sitting on
the front porch waiting for Aunt Bessie to
go swimming with him (Sunny Boy could
really swim very nicely now) when the parcel-post
wagon drew up before the house.
The driver grinned as Sunny Boy came flying
down the path.</p>
<p>“Package for Arthur Bradford Horton,”
he announced cheerfully. “Is that the little
boy who lives next door?”</p>
<p>“Course not!” Sunny Boy was startled
at the idea that his package might go to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span>
boy next door. “That’s my name. Is there
something for me?”</p>
<p>“Looks like it,” admitted the man.
“Here you, don’t get under the horse’s feet,
I’m handing it to you as fast as I can. There
you are. Like Christmas, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy took his package and said
“thank you.” It was a large package, and
he wondered what could be in it and who had
sent it to him.</p>
<p>“Maybe it’s from Grandpa,” he told his
mother, as she and Aunt Bessie came out on
the porch.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV<br>
<span class="fs80">LOST ON THE OCEAN</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“Perhaps</span> he has sent you some fresh
eggs from the farm,” teased Aunt
Bessie.</p>
<p>“Or a pound of fresh, sweet butter,” suggested
Miss Martinson, coming out on her
way to the bathhouse.</p>
<p>“Open it, precious, and see,” urged Mrs.
Horton.</p>
<p>So Sunny Boy sat down and carefully untied
the red cord and took off the wrapping
paper. There was a pasteboard box tied
with more string to be opened then.</p>
<p>“Why—why—” Sunny Boy, peeping
down under the tissue paper that packed this
box, uttered a shriek of delight.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span></p>
<p>“Look, Mother!” he shouted. “It’s a
boat!”</p>
<p>It was a boat, sure enough—a beautiful
boat with three sails and two decks and a
large American flag in her bow. Her name
was painted on her sides in bright blue letters—<em>The
Billow</em>.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was delighted.</p>
<p>“Did Grandpa send it?” he asked, his eyes
big with surprise.</p>
<p>“I hardly think so,” smiled Mrs. Horton.
“See, dear, here is a card that dropped out.
Shall I read it to you? ‘To Sunny Boy,
with love from Mrs. Raymond and Bon-Bon.’
Mrs. Raymond sent it to you, precious.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy, of course, wanted to sail his
boat immediately. Ellen and Ralph—Stephen
had gone home—who came over
presently thought it was the finest boat they
had ever seen. Ralph had one or two boats,
but none as large as <em>The Billow</em>.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span></p>
<p>“You can sail her sometimes,” offered
Sunny Boy. “You get your <em>Frolic</em> now and
let’s go down to the beach and play with ’em.
I’ve got my bathing suit on.”</p>
<p>“If you chickens are going to sail boats,
you’ll have to keep away from the bathing
beach,” announced Aunt Bessie decidedly.
“You can’t sail boats in a surf, anyway. Go
over on the other side of the Cove where it is
shallow and smoother.”</p>
<p>So the three children, the two boys carrying
their boats, marched over to the side of
the Cove where a small fleet of rowboats
were kept at anchor and where the only house
in sight was a small shanty where an old fisherman
lived who made his living by selling
tackle and bait.</p>
<p>“Guess Mr. Grimes has taken out a fishing
party to-day,” said Ralph, noticing that the
shanty door was closed. “His boat’s gone,
too. Come on now, Sunny, let’s see <em>The
Billow</em> race the <em>Frolic</em>.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span></p>
<p><em>The Billow</em> rested lightly on the water,
and as there was hardly a breath of wind,
Sunny Boy had to tow her instead of letting
her sails carry her. But towing your boat
on a warm summer’s day when you have your
bathing suit on and are not afraid of getting
wet, is great fun.</p>
<p>“If there was any wind, I guess your boat
could beat mine,” conceded Ralph generously.
“But if we can’t sail ’em, let’s play
taking fishing parties out.”</p>
<p>“How?” asked Sunny Boy practically.</p>
<p>“Well, we have to have some people—make-believe,
of course,” answered Ralph.
“An’ then we ought to have something to
eat.”</p>
<p>“Ellen’s paper dolls would do for people,”
said Sunny Boy. “We’ll ask her if she’ll
go an’ get ’em. And I’ll go and ask Harriet
for something to eat.”</p>
<p>“All right,” agreed Ralph. “I’ll hold the
boats till you come back. Hi, Ellen!” he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</span>
called to his little sister. “Want to give
your paper dolls a sail?”</p>
<p>Ellen was willing, when she understood
what the boys wanted, and she trotted up
the beach with Sunny Boy to fetch the paper
doll family. At the corner they parted,
Sunny Boy to ask Harriet for a “piece of
picnic,” as he said.</p>
<p>“Something to eat?” repeated Harriet in
pretended surprise. “Why, Sunny Boy!
Weren’t you here for breakfast? Well, I
suppose if you are going to take a sailing
party out, you’ll have to see that they are
fed. How will three of these sandwiches
I’m making for supper to-night do? And
three chocolate cup cakes? All right, here
you are—and mind you bring home a fish.”</p>
<p>Ellen came flying down the street with
her paper dolls as Sunny Boy started with
his food, and though she eyed the delicious
little cakes hungrily, she waited politely till
they had joined Ralph on the beach.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</span></p>
<p>“Oh, my!” said Ellen’s brother, when he
saw what Sunny Boy had brought. “Gee,
I’m hungry! Let’s eat before we take our
sailing parties out, Sunny.”</p>
<p>This suited Sunny Boy, and as Ellen made
no objection, the three children sat down
comfortably in the sand and ate every crumb
of Harriet’s goodies.</p>
<p>“And now,” announced Ellen, rising and
shaking the short skirt of her bathing suit
free of sand, “Mr. and Mrs. Smith and the
seven Smith children want to go fishing for
whitebait.”</p>
<p>This large Smith family were Ellen’s best
paper dolls, cut from the colored fashion
plates, and though, as Sunny Boy sensibly
said, they were not exactly dressed for a
fishing trip, still they did look as though
they were pleased at such a prospect. Mrs.
Smith wore a red velvet suit and a feathered
hat, and her husband was in full evening
dress; three of the girls had silver and gold<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</span>
dresses, two of them wore skating costumes,
and the one boy was wearing his bathrobe.
Ralph said he probably had his bathing suit
on underneath, and we’ll hope he had.</p>
<p>“Let the younger children go on Ralph’s
boat,” suggested Ellen, “and Mr. and
Mrs. Smith and their son can go with Sunny
Boy.”</p>
<p>She arranged them all neatly, weighted
them down with shells so they would not
blow away, and the two boys set off, towing
the boats.</p>
<p>But when they came back from the first
trip, there was trouble at once.</p>
<p>“Where’s Mr. Smith?” demanded Ellen,
counting her dolls as soon as the ships were
steadied in the sand.</p>
<p>“Mr. Smith?” echoed Sunny Boy helplessly.
“Why—why—isn’t he there?”</p>
<p>“He isn’t here,” said Ellen coldly. “And
the shell that held him down isn’t here.
And, Ralph, where is Lucile?”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</span></p>
<p>Lucile was one of the paper dolls who
wore a silver frock.</p>
<p>“Gee! I suppose they’re washed away,”
admitted Ralph. “I’m awfully sorry, honest,
Ellen. Sunny and I were watching a
boat ’way out, and we didn’t look back at
our ships. I’ll ask Mother to let you have
the new fashion magazine to-night.”</p>
<p>“Well, Mr. Smith was torn in one place,”
said Ellen kindly. “And I never did care
so much for Lucile. Daddy always called
her cross-eyed. So you needn’t care,
Ralph.”</p>
<p>“What’ll we do now?” asked Ralph, tired
of the responsibility of taking paper dolls
sailing. A fellow couldn’t be expected to
keep the silly things from blowing away.
“What’ll we do now, Sunny?”</p>
<p>“Yes, what’ll we do, Sunny?” chimed in
Ellen.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy could usually be counted on to
think of some game. He played alone so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</span>
much, and, having no sister or brother, often
had to depend upon himself for amusement.</p>
<p>“We’ll play dry-dock,” he suggested now.
“Put our ships up for repairs, you know.
Come on, Ellen, you can help build the dry-dock.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy had seen pictures of the great
dry-docks where ships were sent to be repaired
and painted, and he really had a very
clear idea of how they were used. Naturally,
he wasn’t so sure how they were built,
but together he and Ralph and Ellen made
an arrangement of sticks that looked very
imposing, and into which they fitted the
<em>Frolic</em> and <em>The Billow</em> with some difficulty.</p>
<p>“I think we’ll take ’em out for another
sail,” said Sunny Boy, after the dry-dock was
pronounced finished. “And perhaps we’ll
have a wreck. You stay on shore and signal
to us, Ellen.”</p>
<p>“Then we’ll come in and go into dry-dock
for repairs! That will be fun,” agreed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</span>
Ralph. “Come on, let’s have a big wreck.”</p>
<p>But before they could have a wreck, Ellen
called them.</p>
<p>“Look what I’ve found!” she cried.</p>
<p>The boys waded back and tied their ships
to a cable that held a half-sunken scow.
Ellen had captured a butterfly, yellow with
black spots, and they watched it flutter its
beautiful wings in her hands. It didn’t
seem to want to fly away.</p>
<p>“Perhaps he is a tame butterfly,” suggested
Sunny Boy. “Let’s give him a sail on
<em>The Billow</em>.”</p>
<p>He straightened up and looked out to
where he had left his boat, gently rocking on
the water. Only Ralph’s <em>Frolic</em> was still
tied, and <em>The Billow</em> was drifting out to sea.</p>
<p>“Ralph!” gasped Sunny Boy. “Look!
My boat’s untied!”</p>
<p>He waded into the water, but Ralph,
splashing after him, caught him by his shirt.</p>
<p>“It’s deep out there—the beach goes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</span>
down,” Ralph explained. “You can’t catch
it, Sunny Boy.”</p>
<p>“Daddy’s coming down to-day and I
wanted to show it to him,” Sunny Boy almost
sobbed. “I just have to get it, Ralph. I
know! I’ll row after it. Come on, we’ll
take this boat.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy began to untie the rope that
fastened one of the rowboats.</p>
<p>“Don’t you go, Ralph,” ordered his little
sister. “You know Mother wouldn’t like
it. Sunny Boy, you won’t catch your boat,
an’ maybe you’ll be drowned.”</p>
<p>“Won’t neither,” retorted Sunny Boy ungraciously,
working at the stiff rope. “Nobody
gets drowned in rowboats—so there!”</p>
<p>The rope untied, he scrambled into the
boat.</p>
<p>Ralph would probably have gone with
him, but Ellen began to cry and repeated
that she knew their mother wouldn’t like it,
and so he stayed with her.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</span></p>
<p>To his relief, Sunny Boy found that he
would not need the oars which were in the
bottom of the boat, for the tide was carrying
his boat just as it had carried out <em>The Billow</em>.
The oars were so heavy that Sunny Boy
never could have handled them.</p>
<p>“I’ll catch it in a minute,” Sunny Boy told
himself, as his boat drifted gently along,
“then Ellen will be sorry she was such a cry-baby.”</p>
<p>But he didn’t catch <em>The Billow</em> in a minute.
That dancing little boat sailed on out
of sight and Sunny Boy’s boat moved evenly
along till presently he couldn’t see any land
at all. He began to wonder how he was going
to get back</p>
<hr class="tb">
<p>“Where’s Sunny Boy?” asked Mrs. Horton
when lunch time came. “Won’t he be
surprised to find you here, Daddy?”</p>
<p>“Where’s Sunny Boy?” asked Mr. Horton,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</span>
who had come down on an earlier train
than usual.</p>
<p>Half an hour passed, an hour. Still no
Sunny Boy.</p>
<p>“I’m worried!” Mrs. Horton paced up
and down the porch nervously. “I know he
hasn’t run away again. Oh, Daddy, where
can he be?”</p>
<p>“There are the Gray children,” said Aunt
Bessie. “Sunny Boy was sailing boats with
them this morning. Call them over and ask
them.”</p>
<p>“Sunny Boy?” repeated Ellen when Mrs.
Horton asked her. “Oh, his boat got untied,
and Sunny took a big boat and went after it.
An’ he didn’t ask the man who owned it or
nothin’. I wouldn’t let Ralph go, ’cause my
mother says rowboats are dangerous.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton turned very white.</p>
<p>“There, there, Olive,” said her husband.
“It is a beautiful calm day, and he will be all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</span>
right. We’ll get Captain Franklin to take
us in his motor-boat, and we ought to pick
him up without much trouble. He can’t
have drifted very far.”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you come and tell us?” asked
Mrs. Horton, catching up a sweater and running
down the steps after her husband.
“Ellen dear, what could you have been thinking
of not to let us know?”</p>
<p>“I thought Sunny Boy would be back,”
said Ellen. “He said it wouldn’t take him
but just a minute.”</p>
<p>Captain Franklin was an old sea captain
with a wrinkled kind brown face and keen
blue eyes.</p>
<p>“Sure we’ll find him, ma’am,” he assured
Mrs. Horton, when he had heard the story
of the lost Sunny Boy. “Just let me put
some fresh water on board and see if the
cracker box is full, an’ we’ll start right out.
Never go out, if it’s only across the bay,
without fresh water. You never know<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</span>
when you’ll need it. And the little feller
will be mighty thirsty when we do find
him.”</p>
<p>“Better get a tube of cold cream,” Mr.
Horton advised his wife. “The glare on
the water will bum Sunny Boy even if he is
tanned. You can get some in that little
shop there.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton bought some cold cream in
the little shop where fishing supplies were
sold, and as soon as Captain Franklin had
filled his water kegs they set out.</p>
<p>“Chug-chug-chug!” sang the motor-boat
engine cheerily. “We’re going to find
Sunny Boy. Chug-chug-chug!”</p>
<hr class="tb">
<p>And what was Sunny Boy doing all this
time, alone in his boat and so far out on the
big ocean?</p>
<p>When he found that he couldn’t see the
land and that <em>The Billow</em> had disappeared,
Sunny Boy was puzzled.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</span></p>
<p>“Where did it go?” he asked. “I was
looking right at it, an’ now it’s gone.
Maybe I’d better turn my boat around.”</p>
<p>But he could not turn the boat around.
Indeed, it seemed that that rowboat intended
to do exactly as it pleased. And it wanted
to go right on, sailing out to sea.</p>
<p>“Maybe we’ll come to China,” thought
Sunny Boy, not knowing very clearly where
China was. “Only I would rather have another
some one with me. I wish Ralph had
come.”</p>
<p>The sun began to burn him and he wished
for some shade.</p>
<p>“The ocean’s awfully sunny,” sighed poor
Sunny Boy. “I feel queer inside.”</p>
<p>He was hungry, but he didn’t know it.
The queer feeling grew worse and worse.</p>
<p>“My mother wouldn’t like me to be sick,”
he said aloud. “I wish I had a drink of
water.”</p>
<p>He was really very thirsty, having had no<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</span>
water since breakfast. It was now two or
three o’clock in the afternoon, though there
was nothing to tell Sunny Boy the time. He
had never gone without a meal in his life,
and whenever he had wanted a drink of
water it had always been easy to get.
Sunny Boy, if he had only known it, was experiencing
some of the worst troubles of shipwrecked
sailors.</p>
<p>“I’m lonesome—but I won’t cry,” he said
stoutly.</p>
<p>His voice sounded so little on the wide
stretch of blue water that he knew, deep
down in his heart, no one could hear him.
But he stood up in the boat—luckily it was a
flat-bottomed rowboat or it might have
tipped and spilled him out and that would
have been a serious matter—and shouted as
loud as he could. He shouted until he was
tired, and then, realizing that he was a very
little boy alone on a very big ocean, brave little
Sunny Boy did give up and cried. And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</span>
some grown men, in his place, would have
cried, too.</p>
<p>Curled down in the bottom of the boat, he
rested his head on one of the seats and tried
to shut out the hot sunlight.</p>
<p>“I wish,” he murmured drowsily, “I had a
drink of water. I wish Mother was here.
I wish I had my boat to show Daddy.”</p>
<p>Then, still making more wishes, Sunny
Boy fell asleep.</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</span></p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV<br>
<span class="fs80">A HAPPY ENDING</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">The</span> cheerful chug-chug of Captain
Franklin’s motor-boat, on its way to
find Sunny Boy, was something of a comfort
to Sunny’s anxious mother.</p>
<p>“He can hear it while we’re afar off,” she
said to Mr. Horton, “and perhaps he will
stand up and wave. How dreadful it must
be, Harry, for sailors to be adrift on this
great ocean for days at a time.”</p>
<p>“Yes indeed,” nodded Mr. Horton, “but
Sunny Boy, you know, isn’t going to be
adrift even one day. What’s the matter?”</p>
<p>The noise of the engine stopped and the
<em>Rocket</em> began to drift.</p>
<p>“Engine trouble,” explained the captain<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</span>
briefly. “I’ll have to ask you to move a bit
while I get those tools under the seat.”</p>
<p>Poor Mrs. Horton looked as if she would
like to cry. It was hard, when she felt that
every minute they were delayed Sunny’s
boat might be going farther and farther out
to sea.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, ma’am,” said the kind captain,
who knew perfectly well that she was
uneasy and fretting. “I know what the
trouble is, and I’ll have her going in a minute.
If I were you, I’d eat a bite, or take a
drink of milk. I’ve a fresh bottle in that
locker there. You don’t want to get played
out before we come up with the little chap.”</p>
<p>Mrs. Horton drank a glass of milk, but
she could not eat. And presently “chug-chug,
chug-chug!” sounded merrily again.</p>
<p>“Now we’ll make up lost seconds,” said
Captain Franklin sturdily.</p>
<p>“There’s a boat!” cried Mrs. Horton
suddenly.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</span></p>
<p>“It’s one of the fishing fleet,” replied the
captain, who knew practically every boat in
the harbor. “One of the men has likely
rowed out with bait for a party that wants to
stay out all night. But I’ll hail him.”</p>
<p>He stood up, and, putting his hands to
his mouth, roared, not “Ship Ahoy!” as they
do in books, and as Mrs. Horton secretly expected
him to, but “Hey, you!”</p>
<p>Tired and anxious as she was, Sunny’s
mother had to laugh.</p>
<p>“Seen anything of a stray rowboat this
afternoon?” the captain was calling.
“White boat, broad green stripe—one of Jo
Grimes’. Haven’t passed it, have you?”</p>
<p>The solitary man in the other boat stood
up and bellowed something in reply that
neither Mr. nor Mrs. Horton could understand.</p>
<p>“He says he hasn’t seen any boat since
dinner time,” said the captain, dropping
back into his place by the engine. “I was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</span>
hoping he hadn’t. Ned Butterworth is so
slow, he’d never think of stopping the boat
if it ran smack into him.”</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Sunny Boy had wakened and
found he was still thirsty. He remembered
something Harriet had once told him when
he was a very little boy and had teased for a
drink when they were somewhere where she
did not find it easy to get one for him.</p>
<p>“Take your mind off your troubles,” had
been Harriet’s counsel. “Think about
something else, and you’ll forget you are
thirsty. Count the red roses on this wallpaper.
I’ll help you.”</p>
<p>And Sunny Boy, with the help of his baby
fingers, had gone to counting red wallpaper
roses and forgotten his thirst, just as Harriet
said.</p>
<p>“But I’m thirstier now,” said poor Sunny
Boy to himself. “What’ll I count?
Clouds?”</p>
<p>He began to count the gray-white clouds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</span>
scudding swiftly across the sky. He
counted six, ten, eleven.</p>
<p>“Big ones should count more,” he murmured
sleepily.</p>
<p>His yellow head was beginning to nod
again.</p>
<p>“Thirteen. What comes after thirteen?”
he puzzled.</p>
<p>His eyes shut tight.</p>
<p>When he woke he did not know where he
was at first. He lay quietly in the bottom
of the boat, thinking, and then when he saw
the oars, he remembered. He sat up.</p>
<p>The hot sun had gone under a cloud, and
the ocean was no longer blue, but gray. It
was hot and still.</p>
<p>Now when Sunny Boy sat up to look about
him, something happened.</p>
<p>“Chug-chug, chug-chug!” said the motor-boat,
carrying Mr. and Mrs. Horton and
Captain Franklin.</p>
<p>“That looks like a rowboat,” whispered<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</span>
the captain to Mr. Horton, putting down his
field glasses. “Don’t tell Mrs. Horton—it’s
empty.”</p>
<p>But Mrs. Horton had heard, and she took
the glasses before any one could stop her.
Just as she put them to her eyes Sunny Boy
sat up in the boat.</p>
<p>“He’s in it!” cried Mrs. Horton joyfully.
“See, Harry, that little black dot must be his
head. Oh, hurry, Captain, hurry!”</p>
<p>“Chug-chug, chug-chug!” gurgled the
swift little motor-boat, fairly leaping
through the water. “I’ll do my best.
Chug-chug.”</p>
<p>And it wasn’t very long before Sunny Boy
heard the noise of the engine and he stood up
to look. There was a boat coming straight
toward him.</p>
<p>“Sit still!” called Mr. Horton. “Don’t
jump about, Sunny Boy. We’ll be right
there.”</p>
<p>The motor-boat scraped alongside, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</span>
Sunny was lifted over and placed on his
mother’s lap.</p>
<p>“My precious!” she whispered, kissing
him. “Oh, my dear little boy, to think I
have you in my arms!”</p>
<p>“Don’t cry,” implored Sunny Boy, surprised
to see tears running down her face.
“I’m all right, Mother. But I didn’t catch
up with my boat.”</p>
<p>Captain Franklin was fastening the rowboat
Sunny Boy had been in to his own boat,
because, as he explained to Mrs. Horton who
wanted him to leave it and hurry them back
to the Cove, some one might find it and think
the rower had drowned.</p>
<p>“Besides, Jo Grimes, whose boat ’tis,” said
the kind captain, “might like to use her
again. All right, Bub, aren’t you?”</p>
<p>“Could I have a drink?” asked Sunny Boy
wistfully.</p>
<p>“All ready and waiting for you,” responded
the captain promptly. “Guess<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</span>
you’re hungry, too. We brought a biscuit
or so along—got them in here somewhere.”</p>
<p>While Sunny Boy drank the cool, fresh
water—and you probably have no idea how
good it tasted, because you have never been
as thirsty as he was—and ate his crackers,
Mrs. Horton gently rubbed his sunburned
little face and hands with the cold cream.</p>
<p>“Going to be a storm,” announced the captain,
watching the gray sky. “Plenty of
wind, most likely. Lucky we found the little
fellow, or he might have been blown
pretty far out.”</p>
<p>The wind began to blow as the captain
spoke, and the spray dashed high over the
<em>Rocket</em>. Mrs. Horton went into the tiny
cabin, but Sunny Boy and his father stayed
with the captain. They were wrapped in
oilskin coats he lent them, and it was very
exciting to watch the <em>Rocket</em> cut through the
waves.</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t the wind blow her ashore<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</span>
’thout any engine?” Sunny asked, after
studying the clouds for a moment.</p>
<p>They were thick, dark clouds, and the
wind was blowing them in toward the shore.</p>
<p>“It might,” admitted the captain, his blue
eyes twinkling. “But the wind’s a tricky
friend. You never know just where you’re
going to land, once you give right up to him.
I’d rather pin my faith to this little comrade
here,” patting the tarpaulin that covered the
noisy little engine and kept it dry.</p>
<p>When the rain came it fell in big splashy
drops, and the wind began to moan. Sunny
Boy was glad to see the land ahead, and he
thought the way Captain Franklin steered
the <em>Rocket</em> in alongside the little rickety
wharf nothing short of wonderful.</p>
<p>“Here we are!” announced the captain
cheerfully. “And I guess you’ve had
enough sea-voyaging for one afternoon,
heh?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy agreed with him. Mr. Horton<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</span>
stayed to thank the good captain and to
pay him for taking them out in the motor-boat,
and Sunny Boy and his mother picked
their way along the beach, intending to cross
to the road where the sand was firmer. The
rain had settled down into a steady drizzle.</p>
<p>“I hope the little boy who finds my boat
will take good care of it,” said Sunny Boy.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful
<em>Billow</em> he had lost. “I was just as sure
I could catch it, Mother.”</p>
<p>“Oh, darling, don’t talk any more about
it!” exclaimed his mother, stopping to hug
him. “When I think of you out on that
great ocean, all alone in that flimsy boat—well,
I don’t see how I can ever love the sea
again.”</p>
<p>“Why, it was a very nice sea,” insisted
Sunny Boy. “Only it’s too salty to drink.
What’s that in the sand, Mother—paper
from sandwiches?”</p>
<p>He ran a little forward to look.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</span></p>
<p>“Mother!” he shouted, kneeling in the wet
sand and beginning to dig frantically.
“Mother! I’ve found <em>The Billow</em>!”</p>
<p>Sure enough, he had. The gallant sailboat
was half buried in the sand, the beautiful
white sails all draggled and wet. The
wind had evidently driven her ashore and
up on the beach.</p>
<p>“That’s what happens to real boats when
they are shipwrecked,” said Mr. Horton, who
caught up to them as they were examining
the ship. “You’re lucky, Sunny Boy;
Mother can make you a new set of sails and
your boat will be all right and as good as
ever. Ever so many ships are hopelessly
wrecked by being driven on the beach.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy hugged his recovered treasure
happily. He was puzzled to know how
<em>The Billow</em> could have sailed ashore while he
was hunting it, for he thought he had looked
very carefully. He finally decided in his
own mind that his boat had passed the motor-boat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</span>
in the storm and that the high waves had
kept him from seeing it. Even yet Sunny
Boy did not realize how wide and how vast
the ocean is, or understand that many, many
ships may pass daily on the sea so many miles
apart that they can not see each other.</p>
<p>“Here’s Sunny!” shrieked Ellen, running
out as the Hortons passed the Gray bungalow.
“You didn’t get drowned, did you?
And look, Ralph, he caught up with <em>The
Billow</em>, and—”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy would have stayed to explain
to Ellen, but Daddy and Mother hurried
him along to get into dry clothes. And
when he reached the house Aunt Bessie and
Miss Martinson and Harriet had to stop him
and hug him and hear all about his experience.
You should have seen the dinner
Harriet had ready for him when he was
dressed in clean, dry clothes. She had even
sent over to town for chocolate ice-cream.</p>
<p>“Olive,” said Mr. Horton to his wife the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</span>
next morning, “Sunny Boy and his sailing
expedition made me forget to speak to you
about a letter that came by special delivery
yesterday morning. It’s from Wright, and
he says that deal will drag along for several
months unless I come on to New York.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was watching his mother cutting
out new sails for <em>The Billow</em> and he
knew he must not interrupt Daddy when he
was talking business. He wanted dreadfully
to ask Daddy not to go away.</p>
<p>“I was thinking that you and Sunny Boy
and I might go to New York for three or
four weeks,” went on Mr. Horton, just as he
might say: “Suppose we go home to-morrow.”</p>
<p>Sunny’s mother put down her shears.</p>
<p>“Go to New York!” she echoed. “Why,
think of the expense. And what should I
do with Sunny Boy in a hotel?”</p>
<p>“Have a good time,” smiled Mr. Horton.
“I’m in earnest, Olive. The girls will go<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</span>
back to school next week, Betty will, that is,
and Bessie wants to get her fall schedule
started. Let ’em go, and keep Harriet till
we get back. You’d like to see New York,
wouldn’t you, Sunny Boy?”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy nodded. He was too amazed
to speak.</p>
<p>“But you’ll have a great deal on your
mind,” argued Mrs. Horton. “Sha’n’t we
be in the way? And I wanted to send
Sunny Boy to the kindergarten this fall.”</p>
<p>“Plenty of time after we get back,” announced
Mr. Horton, tousling Sunny’s hair
playfully. “I think I’ll need my wife and
son to help me put through this big contract.
I’ll find some time to play around with you,
too. But mostly I’m afraid you will have to
keep each other company.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy took his boat under his arm
without waiting for the new sails, and went
out to find Ellen and Ralph.</p>
<p>“When are you going?” demanded Ralph,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</span>
as soon as he heard that Sunny Boy was going
to New York. “My cousin lives there.”</p>
<p>“Going week after next,” said Sunny Boy.
“I wish you were going too.”</p>
<p>“Goodness, we have to go to school,” declared
Ellen importantly. “My mother
says education just mustn’t be ne-ne-glected.”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy was troubled.</p>
<p>“I’m going to kindergarten when we come
back,” he explained hesitatingly.</p>
<p>“Oh, traveling’s good for you,” admitted
Ellen, who was a fair little person in spite of
her condescending ways at times. “My
mother says you can learn a lot by traveling
in different places.”</p>
<p>So Sunny Boy felt better, for of course he
didn’t want to go through life without education.
No one does.</p>
<p>Ellen and Ralph and Sunny Boy had only
a few more days to play together at Nestle
Cove. Then they separated, Ellen and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</span>
Ralph to go home to the small town where
they lived and go to school, and Sunny Boy
and his mother and father to get ready for
the trip to New York.</p>
<br>
<br>
<p class="center no-indent fs80">THE END</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent fs150">SUNNY BOY IN THE<br>
BIG CITY</p>
<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I-2">CHAPTER I<br>
<span class="fs80">THE PARADE</span></h2>
</div>
<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">“Fall</span> in!” said Sunny Boy sharply.</p>
<p>The army, six small boys distributed
comfortably over the front steps,
scrambled to obey. That is, all except one,
who remained seated, a sea shell held over
each ear.</p>
<p>“I said ‘Fall in,’” repeated Sunny Boy
patiently, as a general should speak.</p>
<p>“I heard you the first time,” admitted the
small soldier. “Did you know these shells
made a noise, Sunny?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” answered Sunny Boy scornfully.
“Any shell sounds like that if you
hold it up to your ear. Come on, Bobbie,
we’re going to parade.”</p>
<p>But Private Robert Henderson, it seemed,
didn’t feel like parading just that minute.</p>
<p>“Let’s take this stuff out to the sand-box,”
he suggested. “We can make a real beach,
with shells and everything. Gee, you must
have had fun at the seashore.”</p>
<p>“Did,” said Sunny Boy briefly.</p>
<p>He was exasperated. As general of his
army he tried not to be cross, but Bobbie
was famous for always spoiling other people’s
plans. He never by any chance
wanted to do what the other boys wanted to
do.</p>
<p>“You can play with the sand-box after
we parade,” announced Sunny Boy now.
“Come on, Bobbie.”</p>
<p>Bobbie remained obstinately absorbed in
the shells.</p>
<p>“Let me!” Down the steps tumbled a
pink gingham frock and a fluff of yellow
bobbed hair that proved to be four-year-old
Ruth Baker. She lived next door to Sunny
Boy, and her brother, Nelson, was already
marking time with the waiting army.</p>
<p>“Let me march, Sunny Boy,” Ruth
begged. “I can mark time, an’ everything!”</p>
<p>Sunny Boy decided swiftly.</p>
<p>“All right,” he assented. “I don’t think
much of girls in an army, but I s’pose it’s
better than being one short. Get in next
to David.”</p>
<p>Ruth’s feelings were not easily hurt, and
she didn’t mind if her enlistment was not
accepted with enthusiasm as long as she was
accepted. She slipped happily into line
back of David Spellman, a freckle-faced
boy with smiling dark eyes.</p>
<p>“Forward, march!” Sunny Boy beat a
lively quick-step on his drum and the army
moved down the quiet street, leaving Bobbie
Henderson playing with the shells.</p>
<p>Sunny Boy’s drum, of all his toys, was
probably his favorite. He had let it roll
into the street once and a horse had nearly
stepped on it, but his mother had mended
it neatly with court-plaster, and it seemed
good for many more days.</p>
<p>“Rub-a-dub, dub! Rub-a-dub, dub!” he
pounded gaily now as he swung along at the
head of his gallant forces.</p>
<p>“I don’t think generals play drums,”
David Spellman had said doubtfully, when
Sunny Boy first organized his army.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m going to play mine,” Sunny
Boy had retorted firmly. “Daddy says
when you’re short of help a man has to do
two people’s work. I can play my drum
and be general, too.”</p>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent u fs150"><em>This Isn’t All!</em></p>
</div>
<p class="no-indent">Would you like to know what
became of the good friends you
have made in this book?</p>
<p class="no-indent">Would you like to read other
stories continuing their adventures
and experiences, or other books
quite as entertaining by the same
author?</p>
<p class="no-indent">On the <em>reverse side</em> of the wrapper
which comes with this book,
you will find a wonderful list of
stories which you can buy at the
same store where you got this book.</p>
<p class="center no-indent fs130"><em>Don’t throw away the Wrapper</em></p>
<p class="no-indent"><em>Use it as a handy catalog of the books
you want some day to have. But in
case you do mislay it, write to the
Publishers for a complete catalog.</em></p>
<hr class="full">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent fs150 wsp">THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent fs120">For Little Men and Women</p>
<p class="center no-indent">By LAURA LEE HOPE</p>
<p class="center no-indent">Author of “The Bunny Brown Series,” Etc.</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent bold">Illustrated. Every Volume Complete in Itself.</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p>These books for boys and girls between the ages of
three and ten stand among children and their parents of
this generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott
stood in former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable
pair of twins, their many adventures and experiences
are a source of keen delight to imaginative children.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOWBROOK</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMP</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE COUNTY FAIR</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS CAMPING OUT</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AND BABY MAY</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS KEEPING HOUSE</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CLOVERBANK</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CHERRY CORNERS</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AND THEIR SCHOOLMATES</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS TREASURE HUNTING</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SPRUCE LAKE</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS’ WONDERFUL SECRET</li>
<li>THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE CIRCUS</li>
</ul>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<hr class="rdouble">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent wsp fs150">THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent fs120">By LAURA LEE HOPE</p>
<p>Author of the Popular “Bobbsey Twins” Books, Etc.</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent bold">Illustrated. Each Volume Complete in Itself</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p>These stories ate eagerly welcomed by the little folks
from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance
with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny
Brown and his cunning, trustful Sister Sue.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue on Grandpa’s Farm</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue Playing Circus</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at Camp Rest-A-While</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at Aunt Lu’s City Home</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Big Woods</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue on an Auto Tour</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue and their Shetland Pony</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue Giving a Show</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at Christmas Tree Cove</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Sunny South</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue Keeping Store</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue and Their Trick Dog</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at a Sugar Camp</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue on the Rolling Ocean</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue on Jack Frost Island</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at Shore Acres</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at Berry Hill</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at Skytop</li>
<li>Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue at the Summer Carnival</li>
</ul>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<hr class="full">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent wsp fs150">SIX LITTLE BUNKERS SERIES</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent fs120">By LAURA LEE HOPE</p>
<p class="center no-indent">Author of The Bobbsey Twins Books, The Bunny
Brown Series, The Blythe Girls Books, Etc.</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent bold">
Durably Bound. <span style="padding-left: 1em">Illustrated.</span> <span style="padding-left: 1em">Uniform Style of Binding.</span><br>
Every Volume Complete in Itself.<br>
</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p>Delightful stories for little boys and girls which sprung
into immediate popularity. To know the six little Bunkers
is to take them at once to your heart, they are so intensely
human, so full of fun. Each story has a little plot
of its own—one that can be easily followed—and all are
written in Miss Hope’s most entertaining manner. Clean,
wholesome volumes which ought to be on the bookshelf of
every child in the land.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT AUNT JO’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COUSIN TOM’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDPA FORD’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT UNCLE FRED’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT CAPTAIN BEN’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COWBOY JACK’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MAMMY JUNE’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT FARMER JOEL’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MILLER NED’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT INDIAN JOHN’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT HAPPY JIM’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT SKIPPER BOB’S</li>
<li>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT LIGHTHOUSE NELL’S</li>
</ul>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<hr class="full">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent fs150 wsp">THE HONEY BUNCH BOOKS</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent fs120">By HELEN LOUISE THORNDYKE</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent bold">Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations Drawn by<br>
WALTER S. ROGERS</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p>Honey Bunch is a dainty, thoughtful little girl, and to
know her is to take her to your heart at once.</p>
<p>Little girls everywhere will want to discover what interesting
experiences she is having wherever she goes.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>HONEY BUNCH: JUST A LITTLE GIRL</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE CITY</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST DAYS ON THE FARM</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE SEASHORE</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST LITTLE GARDEN</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST DAYS IN CAMP</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST AUTO TOUR</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST TRIP ON THE OCEAN</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST TRIP WEST</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST SUMMER ON AN ISLAND</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST TRIP TO THE GREAT LAKES</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST TRIP IN AN AIRPLANE</li>
<li>HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE ZOO</li>
</ul>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<hr class="full">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent wsp fs150">CAROLYN WELLS BOOKS</p>
</div>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent bold">Attractively Bound.
<span style="padding-left: 1em">Illustrated.</span>
<span style="padding-left: 1em">Colored Wrappers.</span></p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent fs120">THE PATTY BOOKS</p>
<p>Patty is a lovable girl whose frank good nature and
beauty lend charm to her varied adventures. These stories
are packed with excitement and interest for girls.</p>
<table class="autotable" style="width: 90%">
<tr>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY FAIRFIELD</td>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY’S FRIENDS</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY AT HOME</td>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY’S PLEASURE TRIP</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY IN THE CITY</td>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY’S SUCCESS</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY’S SUMMER DAYS</td>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY’S MOTOR CAR</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY IN PARIS</td>
<td class="tdlx">PATTY’S BUTTERFLY DAYS</td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class="r50">
<p class="center no-indent fs120">THE MARJORIE BOOKS</p>
<p>Marjorie is a happy little girl of twelve, up to mischief,
but full of goodness and sincerity. In her and her friends
every girl reader will see much of her own love of fun,
play and adventure.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>MARJORIE’S VACATION</li>
<li>MARJORIE’S BUSY DAYS</li>
<li>MARJORIE’S NEW FRIEND</li>
<li>MARJORIE IN COMMAND</li>
<li>MARJORIE’S MAYTIME</li>
<li>MARJORIE AT SEACOTE</li>
</ul>
<hr class="r50">
<p class="center no-indent fs120">THE TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES</p>
<p>Introducing Dorinda Fayre—a pretty blonde, sweet, serious,
timid and a little slow, and Dorothy Rose—a sparkling
brunette, quick, elf-like, high tempered, full of mischief
and always getting into scrapes.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>TWO LITTLE WOMEN</li>
<li>TWO LITTLE WOMEN AND TREASURE HOUSE</li>
<li>TWO LITTLE WOMEN ON A HOLIDAY</li>
</ul>
<hr class="r50">
<p class="center no-indent fs120">THE DICK AND DOLLY BOOKS</p>
<p>Dick and Dolly are brother and sister, and their games,
their pranks, their joys and sorrows, are told in a manner
which makes the stories “really true” to young readers.</p>
<ul style="list-style: none;">
<li>DICK AND DOLLY</li>
<li>DICK AND DOLLY’S ADVENTURES</li>
</ul>
<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
<div class="chapter">
<p class="center no-indent fs150 wsp">The Children of All Lands Series</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent fs120">By MADELINE BRANDEIS</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent bold">Illustrated. <span style="padding-left: 1em">Every Volume Complete in Itself.</span></p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p>Fact and fancy are so blended in these charming
stories and the manners and customs of other lands
are so interwoven with the plots that reading and
learning becomes a joy.</p>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>The Little Mexican Donkey Boy</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>A charming story of a Mexican boy hero named Dodo, or Sleepy-head,
and his funny little Mexican burro, Amigo.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>Little Philippe of Belgium</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>How little Philippe wandered all over Belgium looking for the
mysterious pair, Tom and Zelie, makes a thrilling story of adventure
and excitement.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>Shaun O’Day of Ireland</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>A very beautiful story of Irish children and through which run
many legends of Old Ireland.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>Little Jeanne of France</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>Every child will love this story of French children, laid in the
most marvelous city in the world, Paris.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>The Little Dutch Tulip Girl</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>This is the story of Tom, a little American boy who dreamed
about going to Holland. In his dreams he met Katrina, the little
Dutch Tulip Girl, who turned out to be a real honest-to-Goodness
girl.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>The Little Swiss Wood Carver</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>This is the absorbing tale of how Seppi, the ambitious Swiss lad,
made his dream of becoming a skillful wood carver like his father
come true.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>The Wee Scotch Piper</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>This is the story of how the music-loving Ian, the young son of
a Scotch shepherd, earned his longed-for bagpipes and his musical
education by dint of a faithful performance of duty.</p>
</div>
<p class="center no-indent"><em>The Little Indian Weaver</em></p>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>This is an appealing story of a little Navajo girl, Bah, and a little
freckle-faced white boy, Billie, who helped Bah to find an ear of
corn which she made into a doll.</p>
</div>
<hr class="rdouble">
<p class="center no-indent fs130">GROSSET & DUNLAP, <em>Publishers</em>, NEW YORK</p>
<hr class="rdouble">
<br>
<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SUNNY BOY AT THE SEASHORE ***</div>
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