"No. But I struck my foot against the curbstone, and now one of my roller skates is broken, and I can't have any fun!"
Rose held up one foot. The skate that had been on it was now in two pieces, and Mrs. Bunker saw that it could not easily be fixed again. It was too bad!
While Rose and her mother were looking at the little girl's broken roller skate, Russ came along. He had been in the yard, playing with Alexis, and his clothes were covered with grass, some of it green and some of it dried.
"But I had lots of fun," said Russ, as he whistled a merry tune. "And grass doesn't hurt my old clothes."
"Alexis always has on his old clothes. He doesn't have to change his to play," said Laddie, who was with Russ.
Just then the two boys saw their mother and Rose looking at the broken skate.
"What's the matter?" Russ wanted to know.
"Oh, I bumped my foot on the curbstone," answered Rose. "And now look!"
She held out the skate that was broken in two parts.
"Perhaps Russ can fix it," said Mrs. Bunker with a smile. "He makes so many things that he might mend this."
Russ took the pieces of the skate in his hand. Rose still had the other, the unbroken one, on her foot.
"I could push myself along on one skate," said the little girl, "but it isn't much fun. Can you fix it, Russ?"
Her brother shook his head.
"I don't guess anybody could fix that broken skate," he said.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Rose.
"But," went on Russ, "I know how to make something that you can have lots of fun with; and so can I!"
"Can I, too?" asked Laddie.
"We all can," said Russ. "We can take turns."
"On what?" asked Rose.
"A skate wagon," answered Russ. "I saw a boy downtown have one—the day we went to the movies. You take a good roller skate, and pull it apart. Then you put two of thewheels on the front end of a board, and the two other wheels on the back end."
"Well, then what do you do?" asked Laddie, for Russ had come to a pause.
"Well, then you nail a stick up on the front end of the board, for a handle, and you stand on it—you stand on the board, I mean—and you ride downhill on the sidewalk on the skate wagon. It's fun!"
"Say, let's do it!" cried Laddie. "I'll help you, Russ! Give us that one skate that isn't busted, Rose, and we'll make a skate wagon."
Laddie knelt down and began to unfasten the strap of the one good skate, which was still on Rose's left foot.
"Stop! Stop it!" cried the little girl, pulling back her leg.
"Hold still!" exclaimed Laddie. "I can't get your skate off if you wiggle so much."
"I don't want my skate off!" insisted Rose.
"Then how am I going to make a skate wagon?" asked Russ in some surprise.
"I can push myself along on one foot, and skate that way," went on Rose. "If I let you boys take my skate to make a wagon of, you'll be riding all the time and I won't haveany fun. I'm going to keep my own skate. So there!"
"We'll give you some rides; won't we, Russ?" asked Laddie.
"'Course we will! Lots of 'em!" added the older boy.
"I'd let them take my skate, if I were you," said Mrs. Bunker. "One skate is not of much use to you, Rose, and if Russ can make a sort of wagon, or skatemobile, as I have heard them called, it will be fun for all of you."
"All right," said Rose, after thinking over what her mother said. "But I got to have my turns."
"Yes, you may all have turns," said Mother Bunker, who usually settled disputes in this gentle way. "Now, Russ and Laddie, let us see you make the funny coaster wagon."
Rose let Laddie take the roller skate off her foot, and then Russ took the two front wheels from the two back ones. He had looked at a "skatemobile" a few days before, and, being a clever little chap, he remembered how it was made.
"I can get the pieces of board out in thegarage," said Russ. "I saw William have some, and he said I could take them."
Russ did not find it quite so easy to make the coaster wagon as he had thought. To fasten the wheels of the skate to the board he used many nails, and bent most of them. Then William, who had been doing something to Aunt Jo's automobile, came out and watched Russ at work.
"Ouch!" Russ suddenly exclaimed.
"What's the matter?" asked the chauffeur.
"I pounded my finger!" said the little boy, as he popped it into his mouth. "It hurts!" But he did not cry.
"Yes, it generally does hurt when you hit your finger or thumb with a hammer," said William. "Better let me finish that for you. I can put the wheels on so they won't come off."
"I wish you would then," said Russ. "We want to see how it works."
William did not take long to fasten the four wheels to the long, narrow board, two wheels on each end, so that it could easily coast down the sidewalk hill in front of Aunt Jo's house. Then, to the front of the narrow board, just as Russ had explained, William nailed a handle, making it stick straight up, so it could be grasped by whoever was taking a ride.
"Now your skate wagon is done," he said.
"Let's go out and try it!" cried Laddie.
"But I've got to have a turn," insisted Rose. "It's my skate."
"You shall all have turns," put in Mother Bunker, who had come out to the garage to see how matters were going. "That is, all except Mun Bun and Margy. I'm afraid they're too little to coast. They might fall off."
"I'll hold 'em on and give 'em a ride," offered Russ, who was very kind to his little brother and sister.
"You can have the first ride," said Laddie to Rose, "'cause it's your roller skate."
"I can't go first," answered the little girl. "I don't know how you do it. You go first, Russ."
Russ was very willing to do this. So he took the skate wagon to the top of the sidewalk "hill," as the little Bunkers called it, and then he put one foot on the flat board, towhich were fastened the roller-skate wheels.
"You have to push yourself along with one foot, just the same as when you're skating on one skate," explained Russ. "Then when you get to going fast you put the other foot on the board and stand there, and you hold on tight and down you go."
"Show me!" begged Rose, jumping up and down because she was so excited and pleased.
And then Russ went riding downhill, almost as nicely as he coasted on the snow in winter.
"Is it fun?" shouted Laddie, from where he stood with Rose at the top of the hill—only almost no one would have called such a slight grade a "hill."
"Lots of fun!" answered Russ.
Down to the bottom of the hill he rode, and then he walked up.
"Now it's your turn, Rose," he said, as he handed her the skatemobile. But the little girl shook her head.
"I'll watch a little more," she said. "Let Laddie go."
So Laddie coasted down. Then Rose took her turn. Down the sidewalk hill she coastedon the skate wagon, and she was just turning around to wave to her mother and her brothers, who were watching her, when all of a sudden out from a gate ran a little dog. Right in front of Rose, and a little ahead of her he ran, and then he stood on the sidewalk and barked at her.
"Look out, Rose! Look out!" cried her mother.
"Steer to one side! Turn out for him!" yelled Russ.
"Stick out your foot and stop the skate wagon, same as you stop yourself on roller skates," cried Laddie.
But Rose, it seemed, could do none of these things. Straight for the little dog she coasted.
What was going to happen?
Rose was not able to stop the skate wagon, on which she was coasting down the sidewalk hill in front of Aunt Jo's house. Nor did the little dog seem to want to get out of the way. He just stood in front of Rose, while she was coasting toward him, and barked and wagged his tail. And it was almost as if he said:
"Well, what's all this? Are you coming to give me a ride?"
"Get out of the way! Get out of the way—please!" begged Rose. "I'll bump into you, same as I bumped into the curbstone, if you don't get out of the way, little dog; and then I'll run over you! Get out of the way!"
But the little dog just stayed right there.
Of course, if Rose had thought about it, she might have jumped off the skate wagon,and let that go on by itself, shoving it to one side.
But she was coasting down the stone sidewalk hill quite rapidly now, and she was so excited that she never once thought of getting off or even trying to turn the skate wagon aside. Straight for the barking little dog she coasted.
"Oh, we must stop her!" cried Mrs. Bunker, running down the slope after the little girl.
"I'll get her, Mother!" cried Russ. "I guess I can run faster than you can."
But there was no chance for either of them to catch Rose before something happened. And the something that happened was that Rose ran right into the little dog. Right into him she ran with the skate wagon.
"Ki-yi-yi-yip! Ki-yi! Yip! Yip!" yelled the little dog.
"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" sobbed Rose, for she was crying.
Bang! went the skate wagon over into the gutter.
The little dog—Well, I was almost going to say he laughed to see so much sport, but thatlittle dog is in Mother Goose, if I remember rightly, and this little dog didn't laugh. He was very much frightened, and he was hurt a little, and so was Rose. So the little dog just tucked his tail in between his hind legs, and back he ran into the yard out of which he had come to see what was going on when he heard the skate wagon rattling down the sidewalk hill.
By this time Russ, Laddie, and their mother had come up to Rose.
"Are you much hurt?" asked Mrs. Bunker. "There now, don't cry. We'll take care of you!"
"It—it's my knees!" sobbed Rose. "I scraped 'em! And is my skate wagon all busted?"
"No, it's all right," said Laddie, as he picked it up from the gutter where it had rolled after Rose fell off. "It's as good as ever."
"And your knees aren't hurt much—only scratched," said Mrs. Bunker, as she looked. Rose wore socks, and her legs, above her shoes, and partly above her knees were bare. "See if you can't stand up," urged Mrs.Bunker, for Rose was as limp as a rag in her arms.
"Stand up and have some more rides!" exclaimed Russ.
"No, I don't want any more rides on the old skate wagon!" cried his sister. "I don't like it."
"Then we can have it all ourselves, Russ!" exclaimed Laddie.
"No, you can't either!" said Rose, and she suddenly stopped crying. "You can't have my skate wagon. I want it myself!"
"But if you can't stand up you can't ride on it——" began Mrs. Bunker.
"But I can stand up, Mother!" cried Rose, and she did, showing that nothing much was the matter with her.
"See, then you're not hurt," said her mother. "Now don't begin to cry again, and you can have some more rides. But perhaps you had better not coast down any more hills. Just ride along the sidewalk as you did on your roller skates. That will be best."
"Yes, maybe I'll do that," said Rose. "Where's the dog that made me run into him?"
The little dog was safely behind his own fence now, looking out through the pickets and barking. Perhaps he wondered what it was all about, and what had happened to him. He had been knocked about a bit, and bruised, but not much hurt. Only he was "all mussed up," as Russ said, after a look at him.
"Well, I guess he won't get in the way of your roller-skate wagon again," said Mrs. Bunker. "Now you can take some more rides, Rose. Your knees are all right."
And so they were, after they had been washed off with a little warm water. Then Rose and her brothers, with Violet taking a turn now and then, had fine fun on the skatemobile. They rode down the hill though, as they found they could steer better when going fast.
Mun Bun and Margy came from the yard, where they had been playing in the sand pile, and they, too, wanted rides. Russ and Laddie held them on, for the smaller children were hardly old enough to coast alone, though Mun Bun did drive off in the junk cart, as I have told you. But that was different. Theroller-skate wagon went faster than the junkman's horse.
So the six little Bunkers had fun on the skate wagon, and as the days went on they were more and more glad they had come to Aunt Jo's house to spend a part of their vacation.
It was early in August, and there was much of the summer before them. The weather was hot, but there was plenty of shade around Aunt Jo's house, so that it was almost as nice as it had been at Grandma Bell's.
"Are we going to stay here until vacation is all over?" asked Russ of his father one day.
"Well, I'm not sure," he said. "Cousin Tom spoke once of having us come down to see him."
"Down to the seashore, do you mean?" asked Rose.
"Yes, down to Seaview, New Jersey."
"Oh, it would be dandy there!" cried Russ. "I could go swimming in the ocean, couldn't I?"
"Well, you might go in if the water wasn't too deep," his father said with a smile. "Butwe'll talk about that later. Rose, where is that pocketbook you found?" he asked.
"Why? Do you know who owns it?" the little girl asked.
"No, but I want to look at it again. Perhaps there may be a card, or something, that will tell the address of the person who lost it and the sixty-five dollars."
"But we did look," said Russ, "and we couldn't find any."
"I thought perhaps the card or paper might have slipped through a hole in the lining," said Mr. Bunker, "as the real estate papers I searched for so long slipped inside the lining of the old coat I gave the lumberman. Where is the pocketbook?"
"Mother has it," answered Rose. "I'll get it for you, Daddy!"
She ran to her mother, and soon returned with the purse. The sixty-five dollars had been put in a safe in Aunt Jo's house, but the sad little letter was still in the wallet.
Mr. Bunker read it over again, and then carefully looked through the pocketbook. It was an old one, and the lining was torn, but there was no slip of paper or card in any holethat would tell to whom the pocketbook should be returned.
"I'll advertise once more," said Mr. Bunker, "and then, if no one claims it, I guess the money will belong to you, Rose."
"And can I spend it?"
"Oh, no indeed! Not all of it. A little, perhaps; but the rest will be put away for you, until you grow to be a young lady. Still I would rather give it to whoever owns it."
"So should I," said Rose softly. "I'd like to get back my lost doll, that I sent up in the balloon airship, and I guess the pocketbook lady would like to get her money back."
They all thought the pocketbook belonged to a poor woman. They got this idea from the letter—that is, the grown-up folks and the older children did. Mun Bun and Margy didn't think much about it, one way or the other. All they cared about was having fun.
And the six little Bunkers certainly had fun at Aunt Jo's. They played in the yard or around the garage; they went for auto rides, on little excursions and picnics, they played with Alexis, the big dog, and they rode on the skatemobile.
One day a boy named Tom Martin, who lived about half a block from Aunt Jo's house, came up in front and called:
"Hi, Russ! Ho, Laddie! Come on out and play tops!"
The two older Bunker boys had become acquainted with Tom, and liked to play with him. Now they heard him calling and Russ answered:
"We'll be out in a minute; soon as we've had some bread and jam."
"Bring Tom a piece, too," suggested Laddie, for Parker, the good-natured cook, was giving the boys a little treat.
"Yes, I'll give you a slice for your friend," she said.
So she spread him a nice slice of bread and jam, and Russ and Laddie, carrying their own, which they ate on the way, also took one to their new playmate.
"Let's play tops," suggested Tom. "We can go down the street where the sidewalk is big and smooth, and spin 'em there."
"All right," agreed Russ. "We'll have some fun."
Down the street they went, to a corner,where a big apartment house stood close to the sidewalk. There the pavement was smooth, just the place for spinning tops.
"There, mine's spinning first!" cried Tom, as he flung his top down, quickly pulling the string away, and thus making the top whirl around very fast. "Let's see if either of you can hit my top with yours."
"I can!" said Russ, and he threw his top at Tom's with all his might.
Russ didn't hit his playmate's top, but he did hit something else. Up into the air bounced Russ's top, and, the next moment, there was a crash of glass.
"Oh!" cried Tom. "You've broken a window!"
That was just what had happened. When Russ threw his top down so hard, it had bounced up again from the sidewalk, and had gone sailing through the air against one of the lower windows of the apartment house which stood so close to the pavement. And the top went right through the glass.
The three little boys were so surprised that they just stood there, looking at the shower of broken glass on the pavement. Then Tom cried:
"Oh, we'd better run!"
"What for?" asked Russ.
"'Cause you broke the window. The lady or the man'll come out an' they'll get a policeman."
Russ said nothing for two or three seconds. Laddie, who was just going to bouncedown his top, to spin it, still held it in his hand. He didn't want to break a glass.
"Come on!" cried Tom in a whisper. "Come on 'fore they catch us!"
Russ shook his head.
"No," he answered. "I'm not going to run. I'll stay here, and when they come out I'll tell 'em I busted it and my father will pay for it. That's what we always do; don't we, Laddie?"
"Yep," answered the smaller boy.
"Did you ever break windows before?" asked Tom, who had started to run away, but who came back when he saw that his two friends were not coming with him.
"We broke one at Grandma Bell's," said Russ.
"But she didn't make us pay for it," said Laddie.
"Tom Hardy, the hired man, put a new glass in," went on Russ. "And once we broke a window back home when we were playing ball. I threw the ball, and Laddie didn't grab it, and it went through a candy-store window, but we didn't run."
"What did you do?" asked Tom, to whomthis seemed something new. He looked up at the place where the window had been smashed. As yet no one had thrust a head out of the window or threatened to send for a policeman. "What did you do?" asked Tom again.
"Well, the lady who owned the candy store knew us," answered Russ, "and she knew our father would pay for the glass."
"Did he?"
"Why, of course he did!" exclaimed Laddie.
"But he said we each had to save up and give him back five cents—a penny at a time," added Russ. "That was to help pay for the glass, and make us—make us more careful, I guess he called it.
"Anyhow, that's what I'm going to do now. We'll wait, and when somebody comes out I'll tell 'em my father'll pay for the glass my top broke."
"Here comes somebody now!" whispered Tom, and surely enough a man, wearing blue overalls and looking as though he had been cleaning out a cellar, came from the basement door of the big apartment house.
"Who broke that glass?" he asked, and his voice was rather harsh.
"I—I did—with my top," spoke up Russ, but his voice trembled a little.
"Well, you'll have to pay for it!" went on the janitor, for such he was. "I've told you boys to keep away from here spinning your tops, and yet you will come! Now you've got to pay for it!"
"I never spun my top here before," said Russ.
"And I didn't either," added Laddie.
"That's right, Mr. Quinn," put in Tom, who seemed to know the janitor. "I brought 'em here. It's part my fault."
"Hum!" said the janitor. "This is something new, to have boys own up to it when they break windows, and not run away. Who did you say was going to pay for the glass?" he asked. "It'll cost about a dollar. Lucky for you Mr. Tanzy wasn't at home. It's in his parlor you broke the window, and he's awful cross."
Russ had thought the janitor himself was cross, at first, but now he did not think so, for the dusty man smiled.
"I'm going to pay for the glass—I am, and my brother," Russ went on. "I broke it."
"Have you got the money with you?" asked Mr. Quinn, the janitor.
"No," answered Russ. "I've only five cents. But you can have that, and my father'll give you the rest when I tell him."
"Who's your father?" asked the janitor.
"They're staying with their Aunt Jo," explained Tom Martin. "She lives on this street—Miss Bunker, you know."
"We're two of the six little Bunkers," said Russ.
"Oh, I'm glad to know that," and Mr. Quinn smiled again. "Well, as it happens, I used to be your aunt's furnace man, so I know her. If you're related to her you must be all right. I'll let you two little Bunkers go now, but your father must come and pay for the window."
"He will," promised Russ, who was glad no policeman had come along, though he had made up his mind to be brave, and not be afraid if one should happen to be called in by the janitor. But none was.
"I'll help pay for the window, too," saidTom. "It was part my fault, 'cause I asked Russ and Laddie to come down here to play tops."
"Good-bye, boys!" the janitor called after them. "I'm sorry you had this accident, but I like the way you acted."
Russ, Laddie and Tom were sorry, too, for they knew their fathers would feel bad, not so much at having to pay out fifty cents each, as because the boys had played tops in a place where they might, almost any time, break a window.
Tom ought to have known better than to go down by the apartment house, for, more than once, he had been told to keep away, but Russ and Laddie had not. However, neither Mr. Martin nor Daddy Bunker scolded very much. They sent the money to the janitor, and told the boys just what Mr. Quinn had told them—to play tops on some other pavement. And this the boys did.
"But we got to havesomefun," grumbled Russ.
"Oh, there are lots of other places where you can spin your tops without going down near the apartment house," said Mr. Bunker."Windows will get broken, once in a while, but I don't like it to happen too often."
"Did you get any answers to the advertisement about the lost pocketbook?" asked Mrs. Bunker of her husband that night, for he had said he would stop at the newspaper office and inquire.
"No," he replied. "I'm afraid whoever owns it does not read the papers. I wish I knew who it was."
"So do I," said Rose.
For, even though she would like to keep the money for herself, she knew it was better that the poor person, whose it was, should have it. But, so far, no one had come to claim the wallet and the sixty-five dollars.
After dinner one day Aunt Jo said:
"Who wants to go on an auto ride?"
"I do!" cried Rose and Violet.
"Me, too!" added Margy, and Mun Bun said something, though they could not be sure just what it was, as he was still chewing on a bit of cracker he had carried from the table with him.
"I guess he means he'll go, too," said his mother. "But after this, Mun Bun, my dear,finish your eating at the table, and don't be dropping cracker crumbs all over Aunt Jo's floor."
"I get Alexis, and he pick 'em up," said Mun Bun; and he started for the door to let in the big dog.
"No, don't!" laughed Aunt Jo. "Alexis has just been given a bath by William, and our dog pet is wet. He'd be worse for the floor than a few crumbs are. I'll have them swept up, Mun Bun. But come, let's get ready for the auto ride."
When the time to go came, Russ and Laddie said they wanted to stay at home. This was unusual. Generally they were the first to want to go.
"Why aren't you coming?" asked Rose of Russ. "Maybe we might find my doll that sailed away with the balloons."
"Oh, I don't guess you will," said Russ.
"Anyhow, Laddie and I are going to make some things when you're gone. We've got to make 'em so we can fly 'em with Tom Martin. He's going to make one, too."
"Will it fly?" asked Rose. "Oh, is it an airship?"
"No, it's just a kite," said Russ. "I started to make one, but I didn't finish. Now I'm going to make a good one so it will fly away up high. And so are Laddie and Tom. That's why we don't want to go in the auto."
"All right, then we'll leave you and Laddie at home with your father and William," said Aunt Jo, for she was going to run the car herself.
"Be good boys," begged Mrs. Bunker.
"We will!" promised Russ.
"And you won't spin tops and break any more windows, will you?" inquired Aunt Jo.
"Nope!" agreed Laddie. "We'll just fly kites, and they can't break windows, or do any thing else."
But you just wait and see what happens.
After Aunt Jo and the others had gone off in the car, Russ and Laddie got their paste, paper and string, and began making kites. Russ knew how pretty well, and he showed Laddie. They made kites with tails on them, as these are easier for small boys to build, though they are not so easy to fly as the kind without tails. The tails of kites get tangled in so many things.
"Now mine's done," said Russ, as he held up his finished toy.
"I wish mine was," replied Laddie.
"I'll help you," offered his brother, and he did.
The two boys were soon ready to go to a vacant lot not far from Aunt Jo's house, to fly their kites.
"A city's no place to fly kites," said Laddie. "We ought to be in the country."
"We ought to be at Grandma Bell's," agreed Russ. "That was a dandy place to fly kites—big fields and no telegraph wires to tangle the tail in."
However, they managed, after some hard work, to get their kites up into the air, and then they sat in the lot, holding the strings and sending up messengers.
"My kite's higher than yours," said Laddie, as he looked at his plaything, away up in the air, and then at his brother's.
"Well, I haven't let out all my string yet," Russ answered. "I can make mine go up a lot higher than yours when I unwind some more cord, and I'm going to."
"I'm going to send up another messenger," said Laddie. "I haven't got any more string to let out, but maybe I could get some."
He took a small piece of paper, put a hole in it, and then slipped through this hole the stick to which his kite cord was tied. Then the piece of paper went sailing up the kite string, twirling around and around until it was half way to the kite itself.
"Look at my messenger go!" cried Laddie, as the piece of paper whirled around andaround in a brisk breeze. "Why don't you send up one, and we can have a race?"
"I will!" exclaimed Russ. "We'll have a race with the paper messengers, and then I'll get some more string, and send my kite higher."
"So'll I," decided Laddie. "Oh, Russ, we can even have a race with the kites!" he went on. "We'll see whose kite will go highest."
"Yes, we can do that," agreed the older boy. "Now I'll make a messenger."
So Russ did that, and as the messenger Laddie had put on was, by this time, nearly up to his kite, he put another on the string. The boys held them from going up until both were ready, and then, just as when they sometimes had a foot race, Russ cried:
"Go!"
They took their hands off the paper messengers, and up the strings they shot, the wind blowing them very fast.
"Look at 'em go! Look at 'em!" cried Laddie, dancing about in delight.
"And you'd better look out and not let go of your kite string, or that'll go, too," saidRuss. "Your kite'll fly away same as Rose's balloon airship did."
"I wonder if they'd go to the same place," said Laddie. "If my kite would be sure to fly to where Rose let the balloons fly to I'd let it go."
"Why would you?" asked Russ.
"'Cause then I could find Rose's doll for her. I could walk along by my kite string and keep on going and going and going, and then I'd come to the place where the kite was and there would be the basket with the doll in it."
"Yes, that would be nice," said Russ. "But I don't guess they'd go to the same place. You'd better hold on to your kite."
"I will," agreed Laddie. "I wonder how high we could let our kites go up?" he went on, as he watched the messengers whirling around the strings. "How far would they go?"
"They'd go as far as you had cord for," said Russ.
"Could they go away up to the sky?" asked Laddie.
"'Course they could," said Russ.
"The sky's awful far," went on Laddie, looking up at the blue part, across which the white, fleecy clouds were flying.
"Yes, it's far," assented Russ. "But we could get an awful lot of string, and let the kites go up."
"Could we do it now?" the smaller boy wanted to know. "I'd like to see my kite go up to the sky."
"Well, we could do it," Russ said. "But look! My messenger beat yours!" he suddenly cried. "It's away ahead!"
"So it is," assented Laddie. "Well, anyhow, I've got more of 'em up than you have."
"Now I'm going to get a lot of cord and send my kite up high," announced Russ, as he got up from the grass where he was sitting.
"Are you going to take your kite down?" his brother wanted to know.
Russ shook his head.
"I'm going to tie my kite string to a stone," he said. "That'll keep it from blowing away while I go into the house to get more cord. You watch my kite while I'm gone."
"I will," promised Laddie. "I'll tie my kite, too."
Russ tied the end of his cord to a heavy stone in the vacant lot near Aunt Jo's house, in which the boys were flying their kites. Laddie sat down on the grass, and looked up at the kites, which were like two birds, high in the air. Russ was gone some little time. It was harder than he thought it would be to find the right kind of cord. But he had made up his mind to send his kite up in the air as high as it would go, and he wanted plenty of string.
Suddenly Laddie, who was watching his own and his brother's kites, noticed that Russ's was acting very strangely. It bobbed and fluttered about a bit, and then began to sink down.
"I've got to pull on the cord," thought Laddie. Though he was younger than Russ he knew enough for this—when a kite starts to come down, to run with it, or to wind the cord in quickly. There wasn't much room in the vacant city lot to run, so Laddie began winding in the string of Russ's kite.
Then Laddie noticed that his own kite was bobbing about and coming down also.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the little boy. "Ican't wind 'em both in at once. I wish Russ would come!"
But Russ was still back at Aunt Jo's house, and Laddie, much as he wanted to save his brother's kite, wanted even more to save his own.
So Laddie let go of the string of his brother's kite, and began to pull in on his own. As he did so Russ's sank lower and lower, falling like a leaf, from side to side.
But as Laddie pulled on his cord his kite went higher and higher into the air, until, getting to a place higher up, where the wind was blowing stronger, it was out of danger.
But Russ's kite floated lower and lower, and Laddie dared not let go his own string to pull in his brother's. Just then Russ came running back with the cord he at last had found.
"Where's my kite?" he cried, as he reached the lot, and did not see his kite in the air.
"It started to come down, and so did mine, but I couldn't pull 'em both," said his brother. "I'm sorry, but——"
"Oh, well, maybe I can pull it up," said Russ, who was not going to find fault withLaddie for what could not be helped. "I'll wind up the string as fast as I can."
So he did this, and at last he saw his kite come into sight above the houses in the next street. But the wind, low down, was not strong enough to carry the kite up again, and Russ saw that it was of no use. His kite still fluttered from side to side.
"I can't get it up again this way," he said to Laddie. "I've got to pull it all the way down, and then send it up again. And I'll make it go terrible high this time, 'cause I've got a lot of string."
"When mine comes down I'm going to send it up higher," said Laddie. But his kite was still well up in the air.
Russ pulled and pulled on his string, and finally he had his kite where he could see it. It was floating over the street near the vacant lot, and Russ was pulling it toward him, when, all of a sudden, something happened.
A woman, with a large hat on, was walking along the street, right under Russ's kite. Suddenly the kite swooped down, until the dangling tail touched the woman's hat. Russ, not seeing what had taken place, kept onpulling on the string, winding it in. And, of course, you can easily guess what happened.
"Stop! Stop it, little boy!" called the woman. "Stop pulling on your kite string!"
"What for?" asked Russ, who had been looking at the stick on which he was winding his cord, wondering if it would be large enough to hold it all.
"Because you're pulling off my hat!"
And that is just what Russ was doing. The tail of the kite had become tangled in the trimming on the woman's hat, and Russ was pulling it off her head.
"Oh, please stop, little boy!" she cried, and she had to run along, following the kite across the street.
Then Russ stopped winding the string, and the woman, putting up her hands, took hold of the kite tail, so it did not quite pull off her hat. But it almost did.
"I—I'm sorry," Russ said, as he saw what had happened.
"Oh, that's all right," the woman answered with a laugh. "You couldn't help it. I have a little boy of my own, and he likes to fly hiskite, but he never got it tangled in my hat, that I remember. But it's all right. No harm is done. I can pin my hat on again, but my hair is rather mussed up, I'm afraid."
"You could go into my Aunt Jo's house and fix it," said Russ politely. "She has a looking-glass."
"Has she? That's nice," said the lady with another laugh. "But I have a little one of my own. See!" She opened her purse and showed a tiny, round mirror fastened inside. "If you'll hold that up, so I can see myself in it, I can put my hat on again and it will be all right," she went on.
This Russ did. His kite had fallen to the street, but it was not torn and was all right for putting up again. So he held the woman's mirror, which was in her pocketbook, as well as he could, while she smoothed out her hair and straightened her hat. Then, with a smile and a bow, she said:
"There! Is it all right?"
"It looks nice—just like my mother's," answered Russ, and the woman laughed as she took back her purse.
"Did you lose a pocketbook?" asked Russ.
"No," was the answer. "Why do you ask?"
"'Cause my sister Rose found one, and it had some money in, but nobody ever came to get it."
"Well, I hope you can fly your kite again," said the woman, as she walked away.
Russ picked up his kite and went back to the vacant lot with it. He tried to fly it, but the wind had gone down, and the toy would not rise. Laddie's, too, had begun to bob about, and he said:
"I guess I'll pull mine down before it falls."
"Well, we had some fun, anyhow," remarked Russ.
It was the next day, a fine, sunny one, that Rose and Violet, having played with their dolls until they were tired, wanted to do something else. Daddy Bunker had taken Russ and Laddie to a moving picture show, but as Rose and Violet had seen it once, they did not want to go again. Margy and Mun Bun were asleep, and the two girls didn't know what to play.
"I know how to have some fun," said Rose at last.
"How?" asked her sister.
"We can jump rope. I know where there's a piece of clothesline that Aunt Jo'll let us take."
"How can two of us jump rope?" asked Vi. "We'd both have to turn, so who could jump?"
"We can tie one end to a tree, and take turns turning," said Rose. "Then one of us can jump, and whoever misses has to turn for the other."
"Oh, yes, we can do it that way," assented Vi. So the two little girls ran to get the clothesline and soon they were jumping rope.
"It's lots of fun," said Vi, when it was her turn to have "three slow—pepper," while Rose turned, the other end of the rope being fast to a tree.
While Rose turned, Vi jumped, and the little girl was getting along nicely when she tripped, or the rope caught on her foot, and stopped.
"Now it's my turn!" exclaimed Rose. "You missed, and you have to turn for me."
"You made me trip!" exclaimed Vi. "You gave me the pepper before I was ready."
"You said to give you 'three slow—pepper,' and I did," declared Rose.
I suppose you girls who jump rope know what "three slow—pepper" means, but the boys probably will not, so I'll explain.
The person who is turning the rope for the other to jump, turns it very slowly for three times. Then she turns it fast. Jumping fast is called jumping "pepper," and sometimes jumping slow is called "salt." And I have heard some little girls, when they werejumping rope, call for "mustard and vinegar." But that is very fast indeed—too fast for little girls, I should think. Rose and Vi never jumped faster than pepper.
"Yes, I know I said 'three slow—pepper,'" admitted Vi. "But I didn't want you to give me such fast pepper."
"Oh, well, try it again," said Rose, good-naturedly. "I won't go so fast the next time."
So she began turning the rope again, and Vi started to jump. This time all went well, and Vi, when it came to the "pepper" part, did so well and kept it up so long that Rose at last cried, with a laugh:
"Oh, my arm is tired! Let me rest, Vi!"
"I will," said the little girl. "I'm tired, too. After I rest a minute I'll turn for you."
They sat on the grass under the trees for a while, and then began taking turns jumping again.
"Now let's try a new way," suggested Rose after a bit. "We'll see how high we can jump over the rope."
So they began this game, and pretty soon some little girls from the house across thestreet came out to play with Rose and Vi. They were from a family that Aunt Jo knew, and had played with the little Bunkers before.
The children had lots of fun, skipping rope, and seeing who could jump the highest. Rose was best at this, though Mabel Potter, one of the little girls from across the street, jumped nearly as high.
"Now let's go and play with our dolls again," suggested Vi. "Can you come over to our Aunt Jo's house, and sit on her porch?" she asked Mabel, Florence and Sallie, the other little girls.
They said they could, and they were just starting to get their dolls when along came a boy with a basket of groceries on his arm. He had got out of a delivery wagon down the street, and was bringing some things to Aunt Jo. The boy had often called with groceries before, and Rose and Vi knew him. His name was Henry Jones.
"Hello, little girls!" called Henry, for he was older than any of them. "What you doin'?"
"Seeing who can jump highest," answered Rose.
"I can jump higher'n any of you!" boasted Henry. "Want to see me?"
"Well, you ought to jump higher—you're bigger'n we are," said Mabel.
"Well, I'll jump and keep on holding my basket," offered the grocery boy. "That'll make it harder for me. Go on! Hold the rope up real high and I'll jump over it."
"Maybe you might spill the things in your basket," suggested Rose.
"No, I won't. I'm a good jumper," said Henry. "Hold the rope up real high."
Rose took hold of one end of the rope and Mabel the other. They held it across the sidewalk as high up as their own waists.
"Higher!" ordered Henry.
They raised it a little.
"There! That's high enough!" said the grocery boy. "Now you watch me sail over that. I'll show you some jumpin'!"
Henry, still holding his basket of groceries, stood on the sidewalk, a little way back from the rope. Then he took a run and started toward it. Up into the air he jumped, but something sad happened.
Whether Henry did not spring up highenough, or whether one of the girls raised the end of the rope when she ought not to have done so, no one ever knew.
But what happened was that Henry's feet became entangled in the cord, and down he fell, luckily on the grass at one side of the pavement, and not on the sidewalk stones, or he might have been hurt.
He sat right down flat, and his basket bounced off his arm, and a lot of groceries spilled out of it.
"Oh, did you hurt yourself?" asked Rose.
Henry was too much surprised, for a moment, to speak. He looked as if he did not know what had happened. Then he slowly got up.
"No, I didn't hurt myself," he answered. "But I guess I can't jump as high as I thought I could. But I'm going to try it again."
"Oh, you'd better not," Mabel said. "You might break some more eggs."
"I didn't break any eggs!" declared Henry.
"Yes, you did! Look at that bag," said Rose, and she pointed to one that had bounced from the basket, together with other bagsand bundles. From this bag something yellow was running on the grass.
"Oh, dear! I guess I did bust some eggs!" exclaimed the grocery boy. "Your aunt'll be awful mad!" he went on. "I wish I hadn't jumped the rope."
Henry picked up the bag of eggs and looked inside.
"Only one's busted," he said, "and that's just partly cracked. I'll hurry into the house with it and she can put it in a dish and save it. 'Tisn't cracked very much."
"That's good," said Rose. "Parker is going to bake a cake, I heard her say, so she'll need some eggs right away, and she can use the cracked one first."
"I'm glad of that," observed Henry.
Then he hurried into Aunt Jo's house with the eggs and other groceries, and when he came out—not having been scolded a bit—the girls had gone with their jumping-rope, so Henry didn't have another chance to take a tumble.
On the shady porch of Aunt Jo's house Rose, Vi and their three little girl friends played with their dolls. They were havinglots of fun, undressing and dressing them, sending them on "visits," one to another, and having play-parties.
"Do you like it here?" asked Mabel of Rose.
"Oh, yes, lots," was the answer. "We've had just the loveliest summer. First, we were at Grandma Bell's, and now we're at Aunt Jo's, and maybe we'll go to Cousin Tom's at the seashore before we go back home."
"You've got lots of relations, haven't you?" asked Sallie.
"Oh, that's only part of 'em," Rose went on. "We've got more," and she mentioned them.
Vi was putting her doll to sleep on a bed of grass made in a corner of the porch, when a door slammed and the sound of running feet was heard.
"Hush! Don't make so much noise!" exclaimed Violet in a whisper. "My doll's asleep."
"It's Margy and Mun Bun," said Rose, as the two smallest Bunkers came racing around the corner of the porch. "They're my little sister and brother," Rose explained to theother girls. "They've just had a nap, so they feel like playing now."
"Can we have some fun?" asked Margy.
"We want lots of fun!" added Mun Bun.
"Oh, dear! They'll wake up my doll!" whispered Vi. "Can't you two go away and play somewhere else?"
"Here. I'll let 'em take these marbles," said Mabel. "They're my little brother's. He gave me his bag to hold when he went off to play tops with some of the boys. I'll let Margy and Mun Bun take the marbles to play with."
"That'll be nice," said Rose. "Run along, Mun Bun and Margy, and play marbles."
This just suited the younger children. Down off the porch they ran, and soon the others could hear them laughing and shouting. But pretty soon Margy came running back.
"Come an' get Mun Bun," she said to Rose. "He's got his head in, an' he can't get it out."
"Got his head in where?" asked Rose.
"In a hole," answered Margy quite calmly.
When Margy told Rose about Mun Bun being down in a hole, Mabel, Florence and Sallie looked much more frightened than the little girl who had come running to the porch with the news. Indeed, Margy did not seem frightened at all; but, of course, Mun Bun could not stay always with his head in a hole, so she had come to tell some one to get him out.
"What kind of a hole is he in?" asked Mabel.
"Can't he ever get out?" Florence inquired.
"I don't know," answered Margy. "It's a funny hole. It's in the yard, and Mun Bun's head is away down in it. I can't see his head, but his legs are stickin' out."
"Mother! Mother!" cried Rose, running into the house, where Mrs. Bunker was sitting in the sewing-room with Aunt Jo. "Oh, Mother! Mun Bun——"
Rose had to stop, for she was out of breath.
"What's he been doing now?" asked Mrs. Bunker. Then she saw Rose's face, and added: "Oh, has anything happened?" and she hurried over to Rose.
"Margy says his head is in a hole in the yard, and that his legs are sticking out," went on the little girl. "Mun Bun and Margy went out to play marbles an'——"
But Mrs. Bunker did not stop to hear. Followed by Aunt Jo, out she rushed to the yard, and there she saw a strange sight. In the middle of the lawn Mun Bun seemed to be kneeling down. But the funny part of it was that his head did not show. And yet it wasn't so funny either, just then, though they all laughed about it afterward.
"Oh, what has happened to him?" cried Mrs. Bunker as she rushed across the grass. Aunt Jo was beside her, and Rose, Vi, Margy and the three other girls followed.
"Mun Bun! Mun Bun!" called his mother, as she came closer to him. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, my head's in a hole! It's in a hole, and I can't get it out!" sobbed the little fellow. And, just as Margy had said, his voice did sound strange—as if it came from the cellar.
"Don't be afraid. I see what has happened," said Aunt Jo. "Mun Bun isn't hurt, and I can get him out of the hole."
"And can you get his head out, too?" asked Vi.
"Oh, yes, his head and—everything," said Aunt Jo. "I see what he has done. He has taken the cover off the lawn-drain, and stuck his head down in it, though why he did it I don't know."
"He's trying to get some of our marbles," explained Margy, as Aunt Jo and Mother Bunker hurried to the side of Mun Bun. "The marbles rolled down the hole in the yard and Mun Bun said he could get 'em back. So he stuck down his head, and now he can't get it up."
"I wonder why?" said Mother Bunker.
"It's on account of his ears," said Aunt Jo, who had her hands on the head of Mun Bun now. "They stick out so they catch onthe side and edges of the hole. But I'll hold them back for him."
She slipped her thin fingers down into the hole, on either side of Mun Bun's head. Then she raised up his head, and out of the hole it came.
Mun Bun's face was very red—standing on his head as he had been almost doing, had sent the blood there. His face was red, and it was dirty, for he had been crying.
"Now you're all right!" said Aunt Jo, kissing him.
"Don't cry any more!" went on Mother Bunker, as she clasped the little boy in her arms. Mun Bun soon stopped sobbing.
"I see how it all happened," went on Aunt Jo. "In the middle of my lawn is a drain-pipe to let the water run off when too much of it rains down. Over the hole in the pipe is an iron grating, like a big coffee strainer. This strainer keeps the leaves, sticks and stones out of the pipe. But the holes are large enough for marbles to roll down, I suppose."
"Some of my marbles rolled down the holes, and so did some of Margy's," explainedMun Bun. "That is, they wasn't our marbles, butshelet us take 'em," and he pointed to Mabel. "And when they rolled down in the little holes I wanted to get 'em back. So I put my head down to look and I couldn't get up again."
"But if the holes were only large enough to let marbles roll through, I don't see how Mun Bun could get his head down them," said Mrs. Bunker.
"Oh, but he lifted off the iron grating of the pipe, and put his head right down in the pipe itself," said Aunt Jo. "The iron grating is made to lift up, so the pipe can be cleaned. I suppose Mun Bun found it loose, lifted it up, stuck his head down, and then the edge of the strainer-holder held his ears, so he couldn't get loose. I pushed his ears in close to the sides of his head, and then he was all right."
And that is just the way it happened. Mun Bun, when he saw the marbles roll down into the drain-pipe, wanted to get them back. He could easily lift up the grating, but when his head was in he could not so easily get it out again. So he yelled and cried, and Margyheard him and went for help, which was a good thing.
"Well, you're all right now, but don't ever do anything like that again," said Aunt Jo.
"I won't," promised Mun Bun, as his mother carried him to the house to be washed and combed. "But I wanted the marbles, and they're down the pipe yet. I couldn't get 'em."
"Never mind," said Mabel. "My brother has lots more. He won't care about losing a few."
And he did not, so Mun Bun had allhistrouble for nothing, not even getting back the marbles. But it taught him never to put his head in a hole unless he was sure he could get it out.
When Russ and Laddie came home from the moving picture show, they heard all about what had happened to their little brother.
"Let's go out and look at the hole," suggested Laddie.
"All right," agreed Russ. "I knew it was there, 'cause the last time it rained I saw water running into it. But I didn't know the iron grating lifted up."
For several days after that the six little Bunkers had lots of fun at Aunt Jo's. They played all sorts of games, and had rides on the roller-skate wagon Russ had made, as well as in the express wagon, pulled by Alexis, the big dog.
They went out to Bunker Hill monument, where they were told something about what had happened when the men of the colonies fought that these United States might become a free nation.
"Daddy," asked Vi very seriously, "didn't they name this monument after you?"
"How could they?" broke in Russ. "This monument was put up years and years before Daddy was born."
"Well, maybe they named it after his great, great, I don't know how many great grandfathers," put in Laddie.
"No, it wasn't named after any one in our family," answered Daddy Bunker.
The father also took the children out to the Charlestown Navy Yard, and told them something about the navy and how our fighting men of the sea helped to keep us a great and free people.
And then, one day, Russ saw his mother and father and Aunt Jo looking over some papers and small books. Russ knew what they were—time tables, to tell when trains and boats leave and arrive. He had seen them at his father's real estate office, and also at the house in Pineville just before the family started for Grandma Bell's.
"Oh, are we going home?" asked Russ, his voice showing the sadness he felt at such a thing happening.
"Going home? What makes you think that?" asked his father.
"Indeed, I hope you're not going home for a good while yet," said Aunt Jo. "It hardly seems a week since you came."
"Well, I'm glad you have enjoyed us," said Mother Bunker.
"But are we going home?" persisted Russ.
"No, not yet," answered his father. "You think because we are looking at time tables we are going to leave. Well, we are, but we are only going on an excursion, or picnic."
"Where?" asked Russ, and once more he felt happy.
"Out to Nantasket Beach," said Aunt Jo."That's a nice trip by boat. It takes about an hour and a half from Boston, and we are looking to see what time the boats sail and come back."
"Oh, are we coming back?" asked Russ.
"Yes. We can only spend the day there," said his mother. "But Aunt Jo says it is very nice. It's a sort of picnic ground, with all sorts of things at which you can have fun. There are merry-go-rounds and roller-coasters. And you can have nice things to eat, and can play in the sand near the ocean."
"Oh, that'll be fun!" cried Russ. "When are we going?"
"To-morrow," answered Aunt Jo.
Russ jumped up and down, he was so happy, and ran out to tell the other little Bunkers.
And the next day they all went out to Nantasket Beach. While they were there something very strange and wonderful happened, and I'll tell you all about it.