nd Sunny Boy was quiet and good while Daddy looked over
some papers and Mother read a letter from Aunt Bessie she had been
carrying in her purse since breakfast time that morning.

"Bessie says," Mrs. Horton announced, "that some boy threw a ball
through the front window and she's had it fixed. And Ruth and Nelson
Baker send their love to you, Sunny. This is a very short letter
because Aunt Bessie wants us to try to match the sample of silk she
encloses and she hurried the letter to catch the next mail."

"I wonder if Nelson got the postal I sent him?" speculated Sunny Boy.
"It was a picture of Central Park."

"He probably received it, and you'll see it in Ruth's album when you
get home," said Mrs. Horton. "And now, Daddy, how about going uptown?"

Sunny Boy was excited, and wouldn't you be, if you were going
somewhere you didn't know about, to see something no one had told you
you would see? He wondered if they could be going to another
menagerie, or if they were going shopping again.

"Wait and see," was all Mrs. Horton would answer, when he teased her.

They took the surface car, and after a few blocks Mr. Horton left them
to get a train for Yonkers, which is a suburb of New York. Sunny Boy
and his mother continued some half dozen blocks further and then left
the car. They walked over a busy street, and suddenly Mrs. Horton
stopped in front of a building with many entrances, and people
crowding into them all.

"I know!" shouted Sunny Boy, as he saw a red and yellow poster. "It's
a theater!"

"Yes, it is," admitted Mrs. Horton smiling. "I read in the paper last
night that there was a children's matinee to-day, and Daddy 'phoned
downstairs after you were asleep and bought our tickets. Can you tell
what the play is, dear, from the pictures? See, here is a case of
photographs."

Sunny Boy plunged his hands deep into his pockets, spread his feet
sturdily apart, and studied the pictures seriously.

"There's a girl," he murmured aloud. "An' an old lady--she's a witch,
I guess. Do I know it, Mother?"

"I've read you the story," said Mrs. Horton. "Don't you remember Snow
White and the dwarfs?"

Sunny Boy remembered the story, and he would have liked to look at
the photographs again, but Mrs. Horton thought it was time to go in
and find their seats. An usher, a pretty girl, took them easily and
quickly to the right row, and Sunny Boy found himself seated next to
an elderly lady, with two children, a boy and a gi