rted out at once, but, as you know,
Miss May sent you home early, and by the time Harriet reached the
school you were gone. She hurried home, expecting to find you here.
And then wasn't I frightened when the afternoon went by and you didn't
come! I sent Harriet down to Daddy's office, and he came home. By and
by Mr. Smiley came and one or two other fathers to ask if we knew
anything about their children. Miss May started out in all the storm
to look for you, and a policeman had to bring her back, for the wind
was too much for her."

"Yes, it blew like--like anything!" agreed Sunny Boy. "Did you think I
was lost, Mother?"

"Yes, I did, precious. And so you were, you know," said Mrs. Horton,
kissing the back of his neck.

"There comes Mr. Harris!" cried Sunny Boy, as the postman came down the
street. "Let me go, Mother. Perhaps there is a letter for me!"

Sunny Boy was always expecting letters, though he seldom wrote any. He
wrote to Grandpa Horton now and then, to be sure, and at Christmas time
he wrote one or two "thank you" letters to the relatives and friends
who sent him Christmas presents. But, as a rule, he did not write
letters, and that is probably the reason he did not receive many.
Still, it is fun to expect letters, and Sunny Boy liked to say: "Any
for me?" to the postman.

"Hello, you didn't get snowed in after all, did you?" said kind Mr.
Harris, smiling at Sunny Boy when he opened the door. "You had this
house in a turmoil yesterday, young man."

"What's a turmoil?" asked Sunny Boy.

"It's an upset," replied the postman. "What happened to you, anyway?"

Sunny Boy explained, while Mr. Harris went through his package of
letters which he carried in his hand.

"And we came home in Mr. Parkney's sleigh," finished Sunny Boy. "Have
you any letters for me, Mr. Harris?"

"Two for your mother, and a paper for your daddy," said Mr. Harris
slowly. "And--let--me--see--" He began to go over his letters again,
very slowly. "Let--me--see--" he said again. "Oh, here it is! I
thought I'd lost it. Are you Arthur Bradford Horton? You are? Well,
Sunny Boy, here's a nice, big, square white letter for you. And I'm
glad the blizzard didn't blow you away."

Sunny Boy took his letter eagerly, mumbled "thank you," and ran
upstairs as fast as he could go.

"Oh, Mother, look!" he shouted. "I have a letter! It's addressed to
me from somebody. Did Aunt Bessie write to me?"

"Open your letter and