Sunny Boy hated to be laughed at, so he said nothing.
"We're inland folks," explained Mr. Horton, who didn't seem to mind the young man's smile. "Out where we live no rivers connect our cities. My little boy has seen his first ferryboat to-day."
"I've seen boats," said Sunny Boy with dignity. "I saw them down at the seashore. But not like those. What do they use 'em for?"
The young man laughed again.
"Excuse me," he apologized. "But I've crossed the river every morning for ten years on the ferry, and it strikes me as funny to find some one who doesn't know what a ferryboat is. They carry people and horses and automobiles, kid."
"Horses?" repeated Sunny Boy incredulously. "Come on, Daddy, let's go ride on one."
"That's the Fort Lee Ferry. Nothing much to see," advised the young man, who was good-natured if he did laugh at folks. "Better go down town and take the Twenty-third Street, if you want a nice sail."
"Thank you, we will, when we do go," replied Mr. Horton. "But, Sunny, you and I must be getting back to Mother. She will be wondering what has become of us. See if you can signal a bus."
