Sunny Boy and His Playmates | Page 5

and he took his mother shopping
and he visited Central Park and the Statue of Liberty and he saw so
many things that he kept remembering them long after he was home
again. "Sunny Boy in the Big City" is the title of this third book, and
the traffic policemen interested him so much that he thought he would
put off being a sea captain till he had tried to be a policeman.
In fact the traffic policemen interested Sunny Boy so much that he
taught the children on his street to play a game called "City" when he
came home from New York, and in this game Sunny Boy was always a
policeman. You may have read of how he played "City" in the fourth
book about him called "Sunny Boy In School and Out." It was in this
book, too, that Sunny Boy made the acquaintance of the big policeman
whom he had seen at the skating pond.
Sunny Boy thought of this big policeman as soon as he was safely on
shore and as soon as he said perhaps his grandpa was drowned and the
big boy had told him no one was drowned--"some of 'em may have
been walked on a little, but no one is drowned, I tell you," he said
earnestly. Sunny Boy wished he could find this kind man in the blue
uniform who might be able to help him find his grandfather.

"Where's the policeman?" he asked, pulling at the big boy's ragged
sleeve.
"What you want the police for?" asked the boy, looking at Sunny Boy
queerly. "Do you want them to chase you?"
"This policeman won't chase me," said Sunny Boy sturdily. "He is a
friend of mine and I like him. Come on and let's hunt for him."
He started to walk higher up the bank and almost fell down.
"Why, I have my skates on!" he cried, in surprise, for he had forgotten
them. "I guess I'd better take them off."
He turned to ask the big boy to help him, and he wasn't there! He wasn't
anywhere, for Sunny Boy looked all around. The other boy had
disappeared as though he had tumbled into the lake, though Sunny Boy
was sure he hadn't done that.
"Oh, dear, I wish he had waited," mourned Sunny Boy, sitting down to
take off his skates. "I wanted to tell Grandpa about him, and now he's
gone."
The skate straps were swollen with water and stiff and cold. Sunny Boy
worked at them till his poor little fingers were blue, but he could not
unfasten them. So Sunny Boy was ready to cry with cold and
disappointment and loneliness when a man spoke to him. It is not
strange that a little boy should feel like crying when he has lost his
grandpa and his feet are wet and his hands are so cold they ache.
"Are you lost, little boy?" he asked.
He was a short man, and he stared at Sunny Boy so hard through round,
black-rimmed Spectacles that the little boy felt rather uncomfortable.
"No, thank you, I'm not lost," he answered politely. "But my grandpa is.
I can't find him anywhere."
"Well, well, you don't tell me!" replied the man eagerly. "Why, I heard

a grandfather saying back there in the crowd that he was looking for his
little grandson. Come along and I'll help you find him."
The short man was very kind, for he knelt down and unbuckled the
stubborn skate straps and tied them over Sunny Boy's arm. Then he
took his hand and led him back into the crowd up to a worried-looking
old gentleman.
"Excuse me, sir, I think I've found your little grandson," he said. "I
discovered this little fellow over by the edge of the pond. He is looking
for his grandpa."
The worried-looking old gentleman was tall and thin. He had no white
mustache and no gray-and-white muffler. He was not Grandpa Horton
at all.
"What ails the man!" cried this grandpa, glaring at the short man. "I am
looking for my granddaughter and he brings me a lost boy!"
"Oh, my!" murmured the short man, dropping Sunny Boy's hand. "I'm
sorry. I'm so absent-minded. I hardly ever get things straight. I thought
you said you had lost your grandson. Excuse me," and he turned and
stepped back into the crowd, leaving Sunny Boy alone again.
This other grandpa stared at Sunny Boy silently for a few minutes and
Sunny Boy stared back. Then the old gentleman threw back his head
and laughed and laughed. He laughed so heartily that Sunny Boy had to
laugh, too, though he could not see that there was anything funny to
laugh at.
"Well, poor James Ridley has made a mess of it as usual,"