A pair of keel-tailed blackbirds were building in a tall tree overhead; and the sweet, clear notes of one of them delighted Master Sunshine until he heard the mate answering back with a harsh, scraping noise not unlike a dull saw making its way through a log of knotted wood.  A robin gave a mellow chirp; and the Peabody bird was filling the air with its sweet, sad strain.

It was always very hard to leave the woods and fields at such times.  They were so full of life and brightness, and there always seemed a special Sunday calm about.

But there were the home people to consider.  Lucy would be awake now from her afternoon nap, and would be longing for her romp with her “fazzer man;” and mother would be so delighted with her flowers, and Master Sunshine would be needed to help arrange them; while Almira Jane was sure to be wondering what was keeping “the folks” so late.  The Sunday tea would be ready for them too—­and a specially good tea it always was.  There would be slices of cold meat spread on a platter of parsley; and the thinnest slices of bread-and-butter on the best bread-plates, and frosted cake; and, most likely, peach or strawberry preserves from the jam-cupboard.

Almira Jane was sure to be in good humor too; for there was little work to do on Sunday, and she seldom got a chance to be “nervous” on the day of rest, and like as not Jacob would walk home with her after evening church; while in the cosey sitting-room mother would play on the piano, and Master Sunshine and his father would join in singing their favorite hymns.

CHAPTER V.

Being A hero.

“There’ll be no rain to-day,” said Almira Jane as Master Sunshine slipped off gayly to school next morning.  “Your geese are sure to be good weather-prophets, and I notice that they are dressing their feathers and diving comfortably in the little duck-pond.”

“And what would they be doing if it were going to rain?” inquired Master Sunshine.

“Geese always get noisy and fidgety before storms,” answered Almira Jane.  “That was partly what was the matter with the Wanderer and his Wife the day you brought them here.  They were doing their best to tell you that there was trouble in the air.”

“There is a great lot of sense, after all, even in creatures that people think are foolish,” thought Master Sunshine to himself as he set off.  Then he turned to wave his hand to his mother, who threw a kiss at him from an upper window as he disappeared down the road.

Tommy and he strolled along, swinging their school satchels as they went.  Presently a sound came to them on the still, morning air, something like a frightened yet angry sob, then a noise as of distant laughter.

“I wonder what the boys are up to to-day,” said Tommy, with a lively look of interest.

Master Sunshine said nothing, but broke from a walk into a smart run.  He was just a bit afraid that his friend, the half-witted boy, was in trouble.