Sunny Boy stood in the doorway, Harriet’s cake on the best china cake-plate in his hands. It was a cake with white icing and it looked delicious.
“It’s to eat on the way,” explained Sunny Boy. “Harriet said so. I was going to put it in the automobile under the seat where it wouldn’t get mussed.”
“But I’m going to put up a nice lunch for us,” said Mother. “Harriet’s cake really ought to be wrapped in wax paper, you know, and go in a box. You shall fix it for me this morning. Now run along with Daddy, and bring our shiny new car around for the bundles.”
Sunny met Mr. Taggart that morning. He was a short, round man with little twinkling blue eyes and he wore overalls that were very black and greasy from the oil and grease on the cars he took care of.
“I’ve got a little boy ’bout your age,” he told Sunny. “You’re about five, aren’t you? I thought so. Ted’s five and a half. In you go! Ted’s a little heavier than you are. He’s down in the country now, visiting his grandma.”
Daddy started the car, and Sunny leaned out to call back to Mr. Taggart.
“My grandma lives in the country, too, and we’re going to the seashore to-morrow.”
Mr. Taggart waved his hand to show that he heard and understood, and Daddy backed the car out into the street.
“Let’s get Mother and go now,” suggested Sunny. “Why is there always a lot to do before we do anything, Daddy?”
Mr. Horton smiled.