hey entered a lane with white-washed fences on either side
and tall waving trees like soldiers, which Mrs. Horton said were elms.

"Now, Sunny Boy," she told him softly, "here's Brookside."

Sunny Boy saw an old red brick house with a great white porch across the
front and a green lawn all about it. A white picket fence went all around
the lawn, and as Grandpa stopped the horses before the gate, three people
came out. There was a tall, thin young man who went to the horses' heads,
a little girl with flaming red hair who looked about fourteen years old,
and a tall, thin old lady with hair as white and curly as Grandpa's, who
came out to the carriage and took Mother and Sunny Boy both in her arms
at once.

"You're Grandma," said Sunny Boy.

It was Grandma Horton, and she remembered Sunny Boy without a bit of
trouble; though, as he had been only two weeks old the last time she had
seen him, he could not be expected to remember her.

"And this is Araminta," said Grandma, drawing the little red-haired girl
forward. "She is my right hand in the house. You recall Jimmie, Olive?"

Jimmie was the young man holding the horses. He came and shook hands with
Mrs. Horton, blushing a little, and chucked Sunny under the chin. Then he
took the team away to the barn, and Mother and Sunny Boy and Grandpa and
Grandma Horton and Araminta went in to supper.

They had wonderful fresh foamy milk to drink, and hot biscuits and cold
ham for the grown-ups. Sunny Boy was not expected to eat those--not at
night. There were baked apples, too, and honey and cookies. Sunny, seated
before a bowl of bread and milk, held a cookie in his hand and wondered
what was the matter with the hanging lamp with the pretty red shade. It
swung up and down like a train lantern.

"He's sleepy," he heard some one say. It sounded like Araminta.

He opened his eyes as wide as he could make them go, tried to take
another bite of cookie and made one last desperate effort to smile. The
smile ran into a yawn, and Sunny Boy gave up and tumbled, a tired little
ball of weariness, into Mother's lap.

He never knew who carried him upstairs, or when he was undressed. So,
waking in the morning to find the sun shining in four windows at once,
and Mother in her blue dressing gown brushing her hair, he was a bit
surprised.

"Hello!" said Mother gayly. "How do you think you are going to like the
country?"

"Are the chickens up?" asked Sunny Boy.

"Hours ago. Mr. Rooster c