Master Sunshine was such a busy boy. Sometimes it seemed to him
that the reason he did not get into as much mischief as other boys
of his age was because he really had no time in which to be idle.

There was school each day, to begin with, and lessons to be
prepared, and story-books to read, and the flower-garden to be
cared for, and Gyp to teach new tricks to, and the pets to be
tended and looked after,--in fact, there were more things than I
can tell you of always waiting to be done.

It was nearly one boy's work, for instance, to take care of the
Guinea fowls,--the handsome, mottled hens, that never knew when
they were well off, but were always running away and getting lost.
If it had not been for their shrill, silly cackle, their hiding-
places would never have been found. Master Sunshine pursued them
every time they strayed, and brought them home triumphantly. I
think he loved his sturdy family of Cochin Chinas best; for the
great rooster, with his well-feathered legs and scarlet comb,
always seemed to recognize him as a friend, and the plump hens
laid the most delicious eggs, the exact hue of their own buff
plumage. It was never any trouble to feed and water them, or to
let them out of the hen-yard for a short run.

Every one knew that the Wanderer and his Wife were Master
Sunshine's property. The Wanderer was a great white gander, with a
long neck and a still longer tongue, if one could measure it by
the clatter it made in the world. His Wife was a patient gray
goose, who waddled after him unceasingly, and was always ready to
add her shrill voice to his.