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Updated: June 29, 2025
Instantly Vada was on her knees, crawling from under the table, followed closely by her faithful shadow. She came cautiously up to Sunny's side and stood up. "M'lasses?" she inquired, and her eyes spoke volumes. "O-oh!" muttered Jamie, scrambling to his feet beside her holding up one fat hand. Sunny, without replying, allowed them to dip their fingers into the pot and taste the molasses.
Now the King sat on his throne with cotton wool stuffed in his ears, in case there should by accident be the least sound in the palace. But, in spite of that, he heard the clatter of Sunny's shoes coming closer and closer, and he began to feel terribly nervous lest there really was going to be a noise at last. "What is that noise?
Guess she never thought of looking in the dairy." This part of the barn had been used for the cows, you see, years before, when Sunny's father was a little boy and a big herd of fine cows were kept at Brookside. Now Mrs. Butterball and Butterette were the only cows, and they lived in a box stall near Peter and Paul. Sunny Boy continued to look at the ducks till David could stand it no longer.
"Sunny's a bright lad," he said, while Toby softly exploded with laughter in the doorway. But the gambler was bent on the purpose in hand, and promptly dismissed the loafer's fairy-story from his mind. "Here, get around and bear a hand," he cried, indicating the pile on the table. "You, Toby, quit laffin' an' git a holt on them clean laundry. An' say, don't you muss 'em any.
What I need is rest. Say, you ain't workin'?" Scipio started. "No. I'm looking for Wild Bill." Sunny Oak jerked his head backwards in the direction of the window. "Guess he's at work in ther'." "Thanks." Scipio mounted the veranda and passed along to the door of the store. Sunny's eyes followed him, but he displayed no other interest. With ears and brain alert, however, he waited.
Had he kept still, Peter would probably have ambled gently about the meadow, perhaps turned into the road that led to the house and barn, and Sunny's adventure might have been a very mild one. But Jimmie was frightened, and in his fear he did the one thing that could have brought about what he feared. He leaped the fence and came running toward the horse. "Gid-ap, Peter! Go 'long! Hurry!"
"You would miss all the Summer fun then. Now close your eyes and Mother will read to you." And while listening to the adventures of a little Italian boy, Sunny's blue eyes grew heavier and heavier, till he went to sleep. When he awoke, Mrs. Horton had gone, and the room was empty and quiet.
Sunny apparently meant well by them. But Bill hated well-meaning people who disguised their incompetence under the excellence of their intentions. Besides, in this case it was so useless. These two children were a nuisance, he admitted, but they must not be allowed to suffer through Sunny's incompetence. No, their father must be found.
"Out of twenty of the faithful there's sure to be one or two with life savings stowed away in a sock, and Sunny's the boy to make them produce the sock." "What's his cult, anyway?" asked Bob. "I mean, what do they pretend to believe? I couldn't make out." "A nigger's idea of Buddhism," replied Baker briefly. "But you can get any brand of psychic damfoolishness you think you need in your business.
But it was not Bill's sarcasm alone that so bit into his bones, it was the jeering light he witnessed in Sandy's eyes, combined with the undisguised ridicule of Sunny's open grin. His blood began to rise; he felt it tingling in the great extremities of his long arms. The obvious retort of the witless was surging through his veins and driving him.
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