“All right,” he assented. “I don’t think much of girls in an army, but I s’pose it’s better than being one short. Get in next to David.”
Ruth’s feelings were not easily hurt, and she didn’t mind if her enlistment was not accepted with enthusiasm as long as she was accepted. She slipped happily into line back of David Spellman, a freckle-faced boy with smiling dark eyes.
“Forward, march!” Sunny Boy beat a lively quick-step on his drum and the army moved down the quiet street, leaving Bobbie Henderson playing with the shells.
Sunny Boy’s drum, of all his toys, was probably his favorite. He had let it roll into the street once and a horse had nearly stepped on it, but his mother had mended it neatly with court-plaster, and it seemed good for many more days.
“Rub-a-dub, dub! Rub-a-dub, dub!” he pounded gaily now as he swung along at the head of his gallant forces.
“I don’t think generals play drums,” David Spellman had said doubtfully, when Sunny Boy first organized his army.
“Well, I’m going to play mine,” Sunny Boy had retorted firmly. “Daddy says when you’re short of help a man has to do two people’s work. I can play my drum and be general, too.”
This Isn’t All!
Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book?
Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author?