hat.

The battleships were left far behind now, and a man and woman riding
horseback attracted Sunny's attention. He thought it must be fun to
have a horse and go riding along such a beautiful drive.

"I could roller skate and Harriet could knit like that," he suggested,
pointing to a boy skating merrily up and down while a white-capped
nurse sat on a bench and knitted comfortably.

"Yes, you could," said his father. "But since Harriet isn't here,
you'll have to write her about what you've seen instead. We get off
at the next corner, Sunny; press the little black button there by your
hand."

Sunny Boy pressed the button which rang the bell to tell the bus
driver to stop, and he and Mr. Horton walked to the stairs. Sunny was
very glad to have his father go first, because he discovered that
coming downstairs was more ticklish than going up. He had a feeling
that he was going to pitch forward on his yellow head.

However, they both reached the ground safely, and, his hand in
Daddy's, Sunny Boy crossed over and stood at the flight of broad steps
that led to Grant's Tomb.

"Do you know who General Grant was, dear?" asked Daddy.

Sunny Boy nodded his head.

"Grandpa told me," he said confidently. "He was in the Civil War."

"Yes, he was a general in the Civil War, and later president of the
United States," assented Mr. Horton. "And this beautiful building was
given by the people who loved and admired him, as a memorial."

They went up the wide steps and entered the rotunda. The light was
subdued, and at first Sunny Boy could see nothing. Then he saw several
people, the men with their hats in their hands, looking down what he
thought was a deep well.

Daddy lifted him up so that he might look over, and there, down on the
marble floor, he saw two American flags draped over two oblong stone
slabs and a wreath on each.

"Mrs. Grant is buried here, too," said Mr. Horton.

The old, battle-stained flags and war mementos in the two little
alcoves off the rotunda would have interested Sunny's Grandpa Horton,
who had seen some of those same flags carried on the battle fields,
but one couldn't expect Sunny Boy to care much about them. When they
came out and stood once more on the steps in the sunshine, he saw
something that interested him more.

"Daddy!" he raised his voice in excitement. "What are those funny
boats'? Over there--see? There's two of 'em!"

A young man standing near heard and turned with a grin.

"Wh