It was always so comforting to talk things over, even if he had been doing wrong; for he was always sure of understanding and sympathy and good advice.

“I often wish every boy and his father were chums like us,” he said once.  “Now, when Tommy Dane gets in trouble, he is always afraid to go to his father, and his mother is too busy to be bothered; so he just has to go to some of the school-boys.  Of course, they don’t know much better than he does; and their advice is just as apt as not to be wrong, and poor Tommy finds himself in worse trouble than ever.

“Only last week he burst the class foot-ball by standing on it, and the boys said he must buy another.  He had no money; but they told him to sell something of his own, and use the money to buy another ball.  So he sent the silver mug that his aunt gave him when he was a baby, up to town, and it sold for enough to buy a new ball.  Then the teacher wanted to know how it was that the boys happened to have so much money, and Mrs. Dane missed the silver mug.  Mr. Dane came to the school and took Tommy home, and he was, oh, so angry with him!  He said, ’he was disgraced because his son was a thief,’” and Master Sunshine’s tone grew very indignant.

“You see, father, that if Tommy had only gone to some one like you at the first, there would have been no trouble at all.”

“And what do you think I would have advised in such a case?” asked Mr. Norton, much interested in the little tale.

Master Sunshine looked at him wonderingly.

“Why, father,” he said, “don’t you remember about me breaking the great pane of glass in the schoolhouse window?  You lent me the money to pay for having it put in, and I had to give you my allowance for ever so long until I made it all up.”

“But would Tommy’s father have done as much for him?” questioned Mr. Norton.

“If they were chums like you and me I am sure he would,” answered Master Sunshine promptly.

“And do you think Tommy did right to sell his mug?” asked Mr. Norton, much interested as to what his son would say.

“The mug was his own, so I don’t think it was stealing to take it,” said Master Sunshine slowly; “but of course it was not right for him to take it away without letting his people know.  There are lots of things in our house that were given to me, and are mine to use and have; but they are not mine to sell and give away like my toys and tops.  You never told me so, but I always knew there were two ways of owning things.”

“We have no flowers for mother yet,” said Mr. Norton, dismissing the subject as he rose from the rock on which they had been resting.  “I wonder what we can find for her to-day.”

How well they knew where to look, and how many happy exclamations came from Master Sunshine as they discovered a clump of ferns just unfolding from the green balls in which Dame Nature had securely packed them.

In a marshy spot, a host of white violets sent up their dainty perfume; and close by the bed of a tiny brook, a scarlet trilium showed its velvety petals.  A sunny hillside was covered with deep purple violets, while under the roadside there were trails of winter-berry vines still green and fresh in spite of the snows that had lain on them; and here and there were the satiny blossoms of the glossy-leaved pigeon-berry.