They found the cool, shady spot sooner than they expected. A turn in the road brought them to a white farmhouse with an apple orchard that grew almost up to the front door.
“Ask if we can eat our lunch under the trees, Harry,” said Mrs. Horton. “And if we can get some milk for Sunny, that will be fine.”
Mr. Horton went up to the door and knocked. A young woman opened it. The folk in the car couldn’t hear what he said, but he came back in a few moments, smiling.
“She says we may take down the bars and drive right in,” he reported. “And she’ll bring us out a pitcher of cold milk and will be glad to make a cup of hot tea if any one wants it.”
No one wanted hot tea, and when Lucy, that was her name she told them, brought out the ice-cold milk, they assured her it was far more delicious than any tea could be. Lucy couldn’t stay, for the dinner was on the stove and she expected the farmer men home to dinner at twelve. Mr. Horton paid her for the milk, and she said that the money would go into her school fund. She was saving to have enough to go away to school in the fall.
“I’m hungry, too,” declared Sunny Boy, watching Mother place the goodies on a white cloth as Harriet opened the boxes and handed them to her.
“I’m glad you have an appetite,” said Mother. “Things will taste good to you then. Come, girls and boys, we’re ready for you.”
Aunt Bessie and Miss Martinson passed their box of sandwiches and every one took one. Those were the egg ones Sunny Boy had remembered to tell his mother about. Then Mrs. Horton passed her box, and after all were served and Harriet was putting down the box, meaning to take up the fruit box, she saw something in it.
“What’s this?” she asked, putting in her hand and drawing out a round, rather flat box. “Is it something you put in for the sandwiches, Mrs. Horton? Pepper and salt, maybe? It was down under the paper, and I most missed it.”
“That’s my s’prise!” cried Sunny Boy, who had forgotten about the box he had taken from the closet shelf. “I put it in, Mother. I like to pack boxes.”