k was ticking steadily away on the bureau where Mrs. Horton had
placed it after unpacking, and with a great deal of trouble and much
tracing with a wet forefinger, he made out that it was three o'clock--or
was it five o'clock? Three o'clock in the afternoon and no lunch! Sunny
Boy felt so sorry for himself that he sat down on the floor and wept a
little. He was not quite awake yet, you see, and our troubles often look
rather large when we first wake up. In just a minute Sunny Boy stopped
crying--he had thought what to do.

Naturally his grandmother would not wish him to go without eating all
day, so why not go down and try to find a little chocolate cake, or some
of those cookies left from last night's supper? Sunny Boy had not the
slightest idea where the pantry was, but he was sure there must be
one--every house had a pantry with a cake box in it. So, in his slippers
and pink pajamas, he crept out into the hall intent on locating the
pantry in Grandma Horton's house.

He met no one on his way downstairs, and the first floor of the house
seemed deserted, too. He couldn't know that his mother and Grandma had
peeped in at him several times and found him fast asleep, or that now
they were on the side porch entertaining a caller. Jimmie and Grandpa
were working in the garden again, and Araminta had gone home until it
should be time to start supper. This was why Sunny Boy found no one on
his path to the pantry. He found it without great trouble, because he
kept going until he came to the kitchen, and a kitchen and the pantry are
never very far apart.

Grandma's pantry was a beautiful place, shelves and walls and floor a
snowy white, and boxes and jars in apple-pie order. There was a large
window with a table under it, and there Grandma rolled her cookies and
made her pies, but Sunny Boy did not know that yet. He spied a round box
that, to his experienced eyes, looked as though it might hold cake.

"I'll get a chair," he said aloud, talking to himself, as he often did.
"An' I won't take only a little piece. I wish I was bigger."

He meant taller.

He carried in a kitchen chair and scrambled up on it. His eyes were on a
level with the shelf, and there sat two beautiful brown pies beside the
cake box. Sunny poked a small, fat finger into the nearest one to taste
it. It was very good, though he did not "remember" the taste. My, how
soury it was! Grandma had baked two rhubarb pies. But no pie could hold
Sunny's attention v