ehow. I feel wiggled up,
you know, Mother."

"You're excited," said Mrs. Horton. "Well, we don't go for two weeks,
dear, so you'll have plenty of time to talk about it. I must write to
Grandpa as soon as Daddy comes home."

Dashing out of the room went Sunny Boy, crying the good news at the top
of his lungs--"We're going to the country! We're going to my Grandpa's
farm! Hurrah!"

CHAPTER II

SPREADING THE NEWS

"So you're going off to the country?" said Daddy, as he came whistling
down to the dining room, where Mother and Sunny Boy were waiting for him.
"Well, I see that I'll have to come up and teach you how to catch a brook
trout."

"Did Mother tell you?" asked Sunny Boy, as Daddy swung him into his chair
and Harriet brought in the soup to Mrs. Horton. "When did you find out,
Daddy? I was watching for you so's I could tell."

"I didn't see any little chap in the hall, so I went right upstairs and
found Mother. She said you were going to Brookside, and that the awnings
were up, and the screens in, and she hoped to go downtown to-morrow and
buy your best shoes," and Daddy looked at Mother and laughed.

"Daddy is teasing me," smiled Mrs. Horton. "We have to tell him our news
all in one breath because we see so little of him, don't we, Sunny Boy? I
do hope, Harry, that you'll be able to come up this summer and spend a
real vacation at your father's."

Mr. Horton was making a little well in the mashed potato on Sunny's
plate, and flooding it with the rich brown gravy. That was the way _his_
father had fixed his mashed potato for him when he was a little boy, and
Sunny Boy liked his that way, too.

"Oh, I'll come up," promised Mr. Horton, passing the potato to Sunny Boy.
"I'll have to come and show you both where I had my garden and teach
Sunny how to fool the wise fish."

Sunny Boy put down his fork. He had to wait a minute because his mouth
was full and Mother had her own opinion of a little boy who spoke without
chewing his food properly and swallowing it. Having swallowed his potato,
Sunny Boy was ready to speak.

"Oh, Daddy!" he began eagerly, "were you ever at Brookside? Where was
your garden? Could I drive horses?"

Then Daddy and Mother said the same thing together, both at once, just as
if they were thinking the same thing, as they probably were:

"Why, Sunny Boy!" said Daddy and Mother.

"You can't have forgotten," urged Mrs. Horton, then. "Brookside, you
know, dear, is where Daddy live