house and up his own. It was never any trouble for Nelson or Sunny Boy
to go calling on each other.

"Now we can go skating, can't we, Grandpa?" asked Sunny Boy eagerly.
"I thought Nelson stayed ever so long."

"Why, Sunny Boy, how impolite you are!" cried his mother. "That isn't
a nice thing to say. Suppose you should go to see Nelson and he should
spend the time wishing you would go home--how would you feel?"

Sunny Boy looked uncomfortable.

"Well, he can come back after I go skating," he suggested. "Grandpa
promised we could go this afternoon, Mother."

"So I did; and we'll start this minute," declared Grandpa Horton,
coming out into the hall and smiling at his small grandson. "Who ever
heard of a little boy with a brand-new pair of skates and ice on the
pond, not going skating, Olive? Sunny Boy is just as polite as he ever
was, Olive, but we have to go skating, whether we have company or not."

"Oh, Father, how you do spoil Sunny Boy!" cried Mrs. Horton,
half-laughing. But she kissed them both and waved to them as they went
off, the new skates dangling over Sunny Boy's arm and buckled together
with a leather strap just as the big boys tie their skates.

"Can you skate, Grandpa?" the little boy asked, as they trudged along,
Grandpa's rosy face and white mustache showing above a gray and white
muffler and Sunny Boy's pink cheeks and dancing eyes set off by a
muffler of scarlet wool. "Will you go skating with me?"