basket on his arm and he wore a white coat. He
looked very clean and cheerful. Sunny Boy had a sudden idea.

"If you're going up to our house, could I hang on back of your wheel?" he
said. "I can skate pretty well if I have some one to steer with."

"I don't think Harriet would like it," was the grocer boy's reply. He
knew Sunny Boy and Harriet because he often came to their house to bring
good things to eat. "I'll tell you, Sunny Boy--you wait till you come
back from this visit, and then I'll take you. Or perhaps after you've
eaten the millions and dozens of apples you won't have to hang on to any
one--you'll be big and strong and able to skate by yourself."

Sunny Boy watched him ride merrily off on his bicycle. Still Harriet
didn't come. Sunny suspected there must be a good many people waiting in
the store. He might skate down to the corner and back before she had
bought all the things on Mother's list.

It was all very well for the first few yards, because there was a
convenient iron railing to cling to, and Sunny Boy found himself skating
very easily. But the iron railing ended in a stone stoop, and after that
there seemed to be nothing but miles and miles of pavement without even a
friendly tree to cling to. Sunny Boy's feet began to behave queerly. One
went much faster than the other and in an entirely different direction,
and he had an idea he'd have to wear those skates the rest of his life
because he didn't see how he was ever going to stop to take them off.

Suddenly he found himself headed for an area-way and a flight of stone
steps. He clutched desperately at the cellar window, shot past, and down
the steps--bing! into a huge basket of clothes a fat colored woman was
bringing up. She was as wide as the basket and the basket took up about
all the area-way.

"Land sakes, chile!" she said, as Sunny Boy landed on top of her basket.
"Where you goin'?"

"Skating," said Sunny Boy concisely, glad to find that he wasn't hurt.

The colored woman laughed, a deep, rich, happy laugh.

"You doan seem to be jest sure," she told him. "Stay where you is an'
I'll carry you on up."

She did, too, and started him on his uncertain way down the street. In a
few minutes his feet began to act strangely again, this time sending him
in the general direction of the gutter.

"I spect I'd better go back," said Sunny Boy to himself. But he couldn't
turn around.

Then up the street came a familiar gray-uniformed figure. It w