and go fishing, an' help hay, and oh, everything!"

Ruth was interested.

"Can I go fishing?" she wanted to know.

Sunny Boy was troubled. Evidently Ruth thought she was going to the
country, too, and it surely wouldn't be very kind to tell her plainly
that Grandpa Horton hadn't invited her. To his relief Mrs. Baker called
Ruth just then and she went into her own yard, still dragging the
unfortunate Paulina by one arm.

"Sunny Boy," called his own mother from an upstairs window, "Harriet is
going to the store for me--wouldn't you like to go with her?"

Sunny Boy liked to go with Harriet, and he hurried indoors to get his hat
and roller skates. Now Sunny Boy was just learning to skate, and if he
didn't have Harriet to hold on to he never could be quite sure what was
going to happen to him. He could go much faster on his own two feet, but,
as he explained to Harriet, it was most important that he should learn
how to skate because when he could skate well he would be able to go to
the store much more quickly than he could walk. And Harriet said yes, she
understood, and that everybody had to learn how to skate before they
could become really expert.

"Did you ever live on a farm, Harriet?" asked Sunny Boy, as they started
for the store. His mind was full of the coming visit.

"No," admitted Harriet. "I never lived on a farm. But I've often visited
people who did. You'll like it. There'll be brooks to wade in, and little
calves and lambs to play with, and chickens and ducks. And you can play
outdoors all day long."

"When it rains?" asked Sunny Boy.

"When it rains there'll be the barn and the haymow," answered Harriet.
"And now here's Mr. Gray's. You'd better wait out here for me and not try
to clatter in with those skates."

Sunny Boy saw a basket of apples in the window.

"Will you bring me an apple, Harriet?" he teased. "Mother won't mind.
Apples don't hurt you."

Harriet was half way through the door, but she turned.

"It's too early for good apples yet," she said. "You wait till you get to
Brookside, Sunny. You'll have more apples then than you can possibly
eat."

"Millions and dozens?" called Sunny Boy after Harriet.

"Yes, 'millions and dozens,'" she echoed, laughing, and closed the
grocery store door.

The grocer's boy was coming down the steps, and he laughed, too.

"Millions and dozens of what?" he demanded, stopping before Sunny Boy.

"Apples, at my grandpa's farm."

The grocer boy had a