Master Sunshine looked at him wonderingly.
"Why, father," he said, "don't you remember about me breaking the great pane of glass in the schoolhouse window? You lent me the money to pay for having it put in, and I had to give you my allowance for ever so long until I made it all up."
"But would Tommy's father have done as much for him?" questioned Mr. Norton.
"If they were chums like you and me I am sure he would," answered Master Sunshine promptly.
"And do you think Tommy did right to sell his mug?" asked Mr. Norton, much interested as to what his son would say.
"The mug was his own, so I don't think it was stealing to take it," said Master Sunshine slowly; "but of course it was not right for him to take it away without letting his people know. There are lots of things in our house that were given to me, and are mine to use and have; but they are not mine to sell and give away like my toys and tops. You never told me so, but I always knew there were two ways of owning things."
"We have no flowers for mother yet," said Mr. Norton, dismissing the subject as he rose from the rock on which they had been resting. "I wonder what we can find for her to-day."
How well they knew where to look, and how many happy exclamations came from Master Sunshine as they discovered a clump of ferns just unfolding from the green balls in which Dame Nature had securely packed them.
In a marshy spot, a host of white violets sent up their dainty perfume; and close by the bed of a tiny brook, a scarlet trilium showed its velvety petals. A sunny hillside was covered with deep purple violets, while under the roadside there were trails of winter-berry vines still green and fresh in spite of the snows that had lain on them; and here and there were the satiny blossoms of the glossy-leaved pigeon-berry.
A pair of keel-tailed blackbirds were building in a tall tree overhead; and the sweet, clear notes of one of them delighted Master Sunshine until he heard the mate answering back with a harsh, scraping noise not unlike a dull saw making its way through a log of knotted wood. A robin gave a mellow chirp; and the Peabody bird was filling the air with its sweet, sad strain.