Sunny Boy laughed because this was probably a joke. Anyway, Grandpa laughed and so did Daddy. Then they all got into the carriage and Daddy drove Peter and Paul. How Mrs. Horton laughed when she saw them drive up to the gate, all three of them crowded together on the front seat.
“You three big boys!” she teased them. “I suppose you had so much to talk about that you had to be together.”
Daddy put one arm around Mother and the other about Grandma.
“Make the most of me,” he said gayly. “I can stay only three days.”
Then there was a great to-do. Mother and Grandma had counted on having him for three weeks. Three days, as Mother said, was “no vacation at all.”
“But better than nothing,” Mr. Horton pointed out. “We can do a great deal in three days. And if I can’t get up again, at least I’ll come up to get you and Sunny when you’re ready to go home.”
Well, being sensible people and not given to “crying over spilled milk” (which was Grandpa’s favorite proverb) they soon decided to enjoy every minute of Daddy’s stay and to begin right away.
“Sunny and I are going fishing,” announced Daddy firmly. “We’ll go to-day—if Araminta can give us a lunch—and Mother is coming with us, if she wants to. Then to-morrow she and I are going for a long drive, and the last day I’m going to be a farmer and help Father with the work. Come on, Sunny, upstairs with you and get on high shoes. We don’t go fishing in sandals and socks.”
Araminta made them sandwiches and packed a box of lunch, putting in a whole apple pie. Daddy had brought his fishing rod with him, and he promised to make Sunny one as soon as they found a place to fish. Mother thought she would not go, for she was already tired from a long walk the day before. So Sunny Boy and Daddy set off alone for the brook in the woods where the speckled trout lived.
“Shall I catch one?” asked Sunny Boy, scuffling along. He did like to scuffle his feet and Daddy did not seem to care how much noise he made. “Shall I fish?”