Sunny Boy was gazing down into his ink well and scarcely heard her.  How could he rescue the lead soldier before he drowned?  He took his best pencil and poked it down into the inkwell.  Goodness, the ink was deeper than he thought, and before he knew it his fingers were stained black.  Then he poked around with the pen Jessie had given him, but though he could feel the soldier at the bottom of the inkwell, he could not make the pen stick in him.  Once the pen slipped and the ink splashed out on the desk.  Sunny Boy wiped it up with his hands.  They were inky anyway, and a little more wouldn’t hurt.

He began to draw an “S” on his paper.  Then he remembered that his “truly” name was Arthur like Grandpa Horton’s.  Sunny Boy turned the paper over and tried to draw an “A.”  But all the time he kept thinking of the poor lead soldier down at the bottom of the inkwell.

“That looks very nice, Carleton,” said Miss Davis.

Sunny Boy looked up.  She was standing at Carleton’s desk in the next aisle.  In a few minutes she would come to Sunny Boy’s desk to see his letter.  If he was ever going to get that lead soldier, it must be now.  Sunny Boy took another quick glance at Miss Davis, saw that she was busy helping another child, and down went his little right hand into the ink-well!

“I’ve got him!” he said aloud, as he brought up the lead soldier, dripping with ink.

The class looked at Sunny Boy in surprise.  So did Miss Davis.  They saw a little boy with ink spots on his face and blouse, his hands as black as—­well, as black as ink, and ink running in streams over his desk.

“Sunny Boy!” cried Miss Davis.  “What are you doing?  I thought you promised not to play with the lead soldier.  Carleton, get the blotter on my desk, quick!”

Carleton got the blotter and that helped to mop up some of the ink.  Miss Davis sent Jessie to get a cloth from Maria, the maid, and she used that to wipe the ink off the desk.  Sunny Boy and the lead soldier she sent upstairs to the bathroom, where Maria scrubbed them both with water and a stiff little brush.  Not all the ink came off, but most of it did.

Sunny Boy had to sit quietly at his desk during recess while Miss Davis talked to him.  He explained that he was not playing with the soldier and Jessie was honest enough to say that she had unscrewed him from his horse, and Miss Davis said she was very glad to know that Sunny Boy had not broken his promise.

“But I think I shall have to say that there must be no more toys brought to school after this,” she declared, when she had heard all about the rescue of the lead soldier general and had kissed Sunny Boy so he might know she was not scolding him.  “Toys and school do not seem to go very well together.”

And Sunny Boy’s mother, when she heard about that morning, said she thought Miss Davis was right.

CHAPTER IX