her go out and down the steps.

Sunny Boy sat down on the top stair and took his drum in his lap.
Presently he would go down and help the awning man, but it was very
pleasant where he was. The softest little May breeze came wandering
through the open door up to him, and the canary in the dining room was
singing his cheerful loudest. Sunny Boy leaned his curly head against the
bannister to listen.

His real name, of course, was not Sunny Boy--oh, no, he was named for his
grandpa, and when the postman brought him an invitation to a birthday
party you might see it written out--Arthur Bradford Horton.

But birthday parties happen only once in a while, and Daddy and Mother
called him Sunny Boy because he was nearly always cheerful. As Mother
explained, you can't depend on a party happening to cheer you up, so to
know a little boy who is sure to smile every day--well, that is worth
while. And often Sunny forgot that he had any other name.

Bump--bang--bumpty, bang! Down the stairs suddenly rolled the drum,
making a fearful racket on the steps as it bounded from side to side.
Down the stairs it rolled, across the narrow strip of hall, past Harriet,
now on her knees scrubbing the green and white tiles, under the ladder of
the awning man, down the steps, and right out into the street! After it
scrambled Sunny Boy, as fast as his tan sandals would take him. He was
just in time to see his drum roll to the middle of the street and stop in
the center of the heavy traffic. A big furniture van, drawn by three
horses, was headed right for it.

"It'll be smashed! Oh, oh!" Sunny Boy wailed, hopping up and down on the
curb, but remembering even in his excitement that he had promised not to
go off the pavement when alone. "They'll ride right over my drum!"

"I guess not!" cried a tall man, and darted out from behind Sunny. He
rushed to where the drum lay and snatched it up, almost from under the
horses' feet.

The colored man driving the furniture van grinned.

"Most busted dat drum for sure!" he shouted. "If this off horse, Billy,
ever put his foot through it, good-by drum!"

"And there you are!" The tall man gave Sunny Boy back his drum with a
flourish. "Just as good as new, except for a little hole that I'm willing
to bet a cookie your mother can mend for you. Isn't she waving for you to
come in? I thought so. You run along now, and see if she doesn't mend
it."

Mother was on the front steps watching for him. Sunny thanked t