“Oh, don’t scold him,” the man begged.  “I like dogs, and I know they don’t like to be scolded any more than we do—­or than boys or girls do.  It wasn’t his fault.  He thought the hose was left there for him to play with.”

“Is anything wrong?” asked Mrs. Brown.  Sue had told her mother about a strange man, all wet, in the yard talking to Bunny, and Mrs. Brown had come down to see about it.

“Just a little accident,” explained the stranger.  “I was passing in the street when it suddenly began to rain—­or at least I thought at first it was rain.  Then I knew it was some one using a hose and spraying me.  I called to them, but that did no good, and I came in.  I saw this little boy and the hose, and naturally thought he had wet me by accident.  But it seems it was his dog,” and he explained how it had happened.

“I am very sorry,” apologized Mrs. Brown.  “If there is anything I can do——­”

“Oh, I will soon dry in the sun!” laughed the man.  “I wasn’t really angry, only I know children will get careless when they have a hose, and I was going to tell them to be more careful.  But I don’t suppose I can make Splash understand,” and he patted the dog, whose tail was now wagging again.

“I’m glad you are so kind about it,” said Mrs. Brown.  “Bunny generally is careful when he waters the garden.  If you will come in and get dry——­”

“Oh, no, thank you!  I’ll dry better in the sun.  Clean water will hurt no one, and I might just as well have been caught in a shower.  Good-bye!” he called, and hurried away.

“After this, Bunny,” advised his mother, as he kept on wetting the garden, “it will be best to turn off the water if you leave the hose.”

“Yes, Mother, I will,” he promised.

So that little happening passed off all right, and later Bunny and the gentleman—­who was a newcomer in town, Mr. Halsted by name—­became good friends.

One day, about a week after vacation had started, during which time Bunny and Sue had had much fun, the two children went to the little corner store kept by Mrs. Golden.  Bunny and Sue each had two cents to spend, and they were allowed to get some candy.

As they entered the store they saw Mrs. Golden trying to sweep, but the way in which the old woman used the broom showed that she was in pain.  As the children entered she stopped, held her hand to her side, and tried to stand up.

“Oh!” she murmured, in a low voice.

“Is it your rheumatism?” asked Bunny.

“That, or something worse,” replied the old lady, with a sigh.  “I get a pain in my side every time I sweep.”

“Let me do it!” begged Sue.  “I love to sweep, and I’d like to help you.”

“So would I!” exclaimed Bunny.  “I can sweep, too.  Please let me!”

Almost before she realized it, Mrs. Golden had given up the broom to Sue, and the little girl was sweeping the store, while Bunny waited for his turn.