Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1921-01-07
ONNY-BUNNY
BY ANNETTE C. sYMMEs.

dow. 1ley were dlLuOSl iduShoOpJ
alike, with their curly brown hair,
blue eyes and trim slightness, and the
expression on the two faces was much
the same as Sonny-Bunny's in front OF
the candy shop display. Their eyes
were riveted upon a dainty creation
of white straw and pink roses. Even
the little boy knew it just to be the
thing for Little Mother.
Go in an buy it, moth" he begged.
Cant. Sonny" said Little Mother,
her CHEEKY tone belying her longing
V 'There haven't been enough
weddings this spring"
"Weddings?" queried the child'
"Yes; you know daddy gives me the
wedding fees for my own. This year
there haven't beer enough so I can af-
ford a new hat"
At this moment the minister drove
up in his shiny Ford and took his
wife and little son for the homeward
drive. The new Ford had been nee
essary, but almost too expensive. This
had something to do with the lack OF
money for a new hat for Little
Mother.
When Sonny-Bunny got home he
changed into his blue overall suit and
went out in the parsonage orchard
to reflect. He did 1t In the crotch OF
the August-sweet tree. which grew
low and was a capital nest for a
small boy.
Little Mother needed some we'd
dings. He knew a little about we'd
dings, for mother had explained some
thing about them when young couples
had come to the house. AS far as
he could see, though. weddings came
unsolicited. Sonny-Bunny was posi-
tive that his father did nothing to
attract custom.
At this moment Silas LovejOy
schanced to drive by. The sight of
him started the child's mind upon a
new tack. A conversation between
his parents, overheard only the other
day, required to his memory.
"How long has Silas Lovejoy been
going with Abbie DUNN" mother had
asked.
Seven or eight years." had been
the minister's reply.
"Well, / should think they would
get married now" mother had said.
"Since old Mrs. Lovejoy died there's
nothing to prevent"
"Silas is a man of habit" responded
the minister. "He's got into a rut,
and he will stick there till somebody
or something jolts him out of it."
The mental processes of a child may
be as direct as light. or as circuitous
well, as a country road. After null
ing it over for a while Sonny-Bunny
concluded that it would be a good
idea to mention the subject of we'd
dings to Mr.. Lovejoy.
That afternoon Sonny-Bunny went
fishing In the brook. There IA a
myth that a trout lived in this brook,
and Sonny had spells of trying to
catch him. On the other side of the
brook was Mr.. Lovejoy's potato patch,
and in the patch the n hoeing.
Sonny had thought he might be there.
By and by, the trout declining to ap-
pear, the small boy went over to visit
Mr.. Lovejoy.
"Hullo. Sonny" doomed Silas.
"Hullo," responded the child. He
sat down beside the green rows, in
the shade. and watched the man work.
By-and-by Mr.. Lovejoy came and
drank from the water jug hidden in
the bushes neal the child and sat
down to rest a bit.
"Mr. L~ovejoy." said Sonny-Bunny sc.
riously, did you ever think about get
ting married?"
"Hey? What? Git married? What
forY' cried the man.
"Why lots of folks do-you know
and then you'd have somebody to do
the housework," stammered Sonny, a
trife frightened.
Silas had not only common sense.
but a sense of humor. Seeing that
the child meant no harm he answered
jokingly:
well, / never seemed to get round
to it."
"It says on one of the motto cards
at school. Never put off till tomorrow
what you a do today" said Sonny.
"And Moth says today is all the time
anybody ever has to do anything. Yes
terday's gone and tomorrow never
gets here"
ashes a wise woman" said Silas.
Daddy says a nan without a wife
is a poor Missile thing" remarked
Sonny. HE says Moth has been the
making of him."
"Sho!"
"M-. Lovejoy," timidly. 'are you a
poor nis'ble thing cause you amt
married?"
A pause. Eyes. I be- !" was the re-
ply.
'Then don't you think you better
get married right off," suggested
Sonny.
Eyes. I dol !" came the answer with