Sunny Boy suddenly remembered that Aunt Bessie always made big round eyes and a round mouth and held up her hands whenever he said “you was,” and that his mother always looked at him and shook her head just the very least possible bit. But never mind; it was too late to go back and say it differently now, and besides he must hurry on and explain to this nice man who was smiling down at him.
“It didn’t hurt me, but one wheel’s bent,” he said.
“That’s where it skidded across the street,” explained the man, bending down to examine the wagon. “Not worth mentioning, though. I’m thankful it wasn’t your leg that was bent. Now don’t you think you’d better call it a day and go home?”
Sunny was willing enough to go home, though he didn’t know what the man meant by calling it a day.
“I mean that one such adventure’s enough for a morning,” smiled the new friend, as he saw that Sunny Boy looked puzzled.
Sunny agreed to this, and they shook hands gravely and the man went on down the street and Sunny and his express wagon headed for home.
He found his mother getting lunch, and she was very glad to see him because, as she said, she was lonesome.
“We’ll have to hurry,” she greeted him when he had put the express wagon in the back yard and found her in the kitchen. “Daddy is coming home at half-past one to help get us ready to go. Have you washed your hands, dear? Well, then you and I will have our bread and milk right here on the kitchen table.”
Sunny Boy enjoyed this. Mrs. Horton spread a little white cloth at one end of the table and they had bread and milk and cold boiled eggs and four chocolate cookies—two apiece—just like a picnic. The kitchen was the only room in the house that seemed natural to Sunny, anyway. The house had been shut all the time they were staying at Grandpa Horton’s, and as they were only going to be home two days before going to the seashore Mrs. Horton said it was not worth while to unwrap or unpack anything.
“Now we’ll wash the dishes,” declared Mother, when they had finished their lunch. “Then I’ll go upstairs and darn socks while you watch at the window for Daddy. Poor Daddy! No one mended his socks for him while we were gone.”