Still singing to himself, he trotted down to the south meadow and found Grandpa and a strange man talking earnestly together.
“Look out! Stay where you are!” called the strange man suddenly. “Back, Bruce, back!”
Sunny Boy stopped instantly. So did Bruce, who had followed him. Neither the little boy nor the dog could see why they should be shouted at, but they obeyed without question. And in a minute they saw a very good reason why. The stranger talking to Grandpa bent down and lifted a handle on a queer looking machine, and right out of the grass—where no one could have seen it—rose a long ugly thing that looked like a big saw.
“All right, Sunny Boy!” called Grandpa.
“What is it?” asked Sunny, eyeing the long saw curiously.
“It’s the mowing machine. We’re going to cut hay with it presently,” answered Grandpa. “Sites, this is Harry’s son.”
Mr. Sites shook hands with Sunny Boy, smiling down at him cheerfully.
“You don’t say!” he drawled. “Well, youngster, your father and I went to school together. When’s he coming up? I’d like to see him again.”
“Daddy’s coming next week, pretty soon,” sang Sunny Boy, capering about the mowing machine joyously. “He wrote me a letter. May I sit on it, Grandpa?”
Sunny meant the seat of the mowing machine, and Grandpa lifted him in and held him while Mr. Sites harnessed up a pair of fat white horses and Mr. Hatch appeared from somewhere. Sunny Boy was acquainted with Mr. Hatch. He was Araminta’s father and did most of the farming for Grandpa. The Hatches lived in a yellow house down the road, and Araminta had six little brothers and sisters with whom Sunny sometimes played. So you see he was not lonely.