And Sunny Boy and his wagon moved gently off down the street.
He could easily have tumbled out, but that would mean to lose his wagon. And the laundry boy was whistling so shrilly through his teeth that there was no hope of being able to make him hear, even if he called out. Besides, Sunny Boy thought that he might very likely be cross and scold about small boys hitching to his wagon.
“I—I—don’t believe Mother would like it,” said poor Sunny Boy forlornly, as the horse broke into a gentle trot.
CHAPTER II
ENDING A BUSY DAY
“I know my mother wouldn’t like it,” said Sunny Boy.
The laundry wagon horse was galloping now, urged on by the freckle-faced boy who was singing loudly as the light wagon swayed from side to side. Sunny Boy looked very little and frightened trailing on in his wagon behind.
A big brown dog bounced out at him and barked madly.
“Go ’way!” cried Sunny, for the dog reminded him of the fairy-tale wolf with very white teeth and such a red mouth. “Go ’way, old dog!”
Slish! the laundry wagon swerved to avoid another wagon, and Sunny Boy nearly tumbled out. An old gentleman stood on the sidewalk and brandished his cane at him.
“Hi, you!” he called, “don’t you know you’re likely to be killed? Why don’t the policemen—”