Six Little Bunkers at Grandma Bell's by Laura Lee Hope

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SIX LITTLE BUNKERS
AT GRANDMA BELL'S

BY
LAURA LEE HOPE

AUTHOR OF "THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES," "THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES," "THE
OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES," ETC.

_ILLUSTRATED_

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

BOOKS

By LAURA LEE HOPE

_12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 50 cents per volume._

=THE SIX LITTLE BUNKERS SERIES=

SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL'S
SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT AUNT JO'S
SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COUSIN TOM'S
SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDPA FORD'S
SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT UNCLE FRED'S

=THE BOBBSEY TWINS SERIES=

THE BOBBSEY TWINS
THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE
THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK
THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME
THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY
THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND
THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA

=THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES=

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA'S FARM
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUS
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU'S CITY HOME
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUB AT CAMP REST-A-WHILE
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODS
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOUR
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONY

=THE OUTDOOR GIRL SERIES=

THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND
THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE

* * * * *

=GROSSET & DUNLAP=, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

* * * * *

Copyright, 1918, by GROSSET & DUNLAP

* * * * *

_Six Little Bunkers at Grandma Bell's_

[Illustration: THEY SAW HIM LIFT FROM THE WATER A BIG FISH.]

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. ALL UPSET 1

II. DADDY BUNKER'S WORRY 11

III. GRANDMA'S LETTER 22

IV. FOURTH OF JULY 32

V. THE TRAMP 42

VI. MUN BUN'S BALLOON 52

VII. LADDIE'S NEW RIDDLE 63

VIII. "WHERE IS MARGY?" 72

IX. ROSE'S DOLL 82

X. THE WRONG DADDY 92

XI. THE FUNNY VOICE 100

XII. RUSS COULDN'T STOP 109

XIII. THE RED-HAIRED MAN 121

XIV. THE DOLL'S BUTTONS 129

XV. LADDIE'S QUEER RIDE 139

XVI. MUN BUN SEES SOMETHING 150

XVII. A RED COAT 160

XVIII. LADDIE AND THE SUGAR 170

XIX. DOWN IN THE WELL 179

XX. THE DOG-CART 190

XXI. RUSS HEARS NEWS 197

XXII. OFF ON A TRIP 208

XXIII. THE LUMBERMAN'S CABIN 216

XXIV. THE OLD COAT 226

XXV. "HURRAY!" 236

SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL'S

CHAPTER I

ALL UPSET

"There! It's all done, so I guess we can get on and start off! All aboard!
Toot! Toot!" Russ Bunker made a noise like a steamboat whistle. "Get on!"
he cried.

"Oh, wait a minute! I forgot to put the broom in the corner," said Rose,
his sister. "I was helping mother sweep, and I forgot to put the broom
away. Wait for me, Russ! Don't let the boat start without me!"

"I won't," promised the little boy, as he tossed back a lock of dark hair
which had straggled down over his eyes. They were dark, too, and, just
now, were shining in eagerness as he looked at a queer collection of a
barrel, a box, some chairs, a stool and a few boards, piled together in
the middle of the playroom floor.

"The steamboat will wait for you, Rose," Russ Bunker went on. "But hurry
back," and he began to whistle a merry tune as he moved a footstool over
to one side. "That's one of the paddle-wheels," he told his smaller
brother Laddie, whose real name was Fillmore, but who was always called
Laddie. "That's a paddle-wheel!"

"Why doesn't it go 'round then?" asked Violet, Laddie's twin sister. "Why
doesn't it go 'round, Russ? I thought wheels always went around!" Vi, as
Violet was usually called, loved to ask questions, and sometimes they were
the kind that could not be easily answered. This one seemed to be that
kind, for Russ went on whistling and did not reply.

"Why doesn't the footstool go around if it's a wheel?" asked Vi again.

"Oh, 'cause--'cause----" began Russ, holding his head on one side and
stopping halfway through his whistled tune. "It doesn't go 'round?"

"Oh, I got a riddle! I got a riddle!" suddenly cried Laddie, who was as
fond of asking riddles as Vi was of giving out questions. "What kind of a
wheel doesn't go 'round? That's a new riddle! What kind of a wheel
doesn't go 'round?"

"All wheels go around," declared Russ, who, now that he had the footstool
fixed where he wanted it, had started his whistling again.

"What's the riddle, Laddie?" asked Vi, shaking her curly hair and looking
up with her gray eyes at her brother, whose locks were of the same color,
though not quite so curly as his twin's.

"There she goes again! Asking more questions!" exclaimed Rose, who had
come back from putting away the broom, and was ready to play the steamboat
game with her older brother.

"But what _is_ the riddle?" insisted Vi. "I like to guess 'em, Laddie!
What is it?"

"What kind of a wheel doesn't go 'round?" asked Laddie again, smiling at
his brothers and sisters as though the riddle was a very hard one indeed.

"Pooh! _All_ wheels go around--'ceptin' _this_ one, maybe," said Russ.
"And this is only a make-believe wheel. It's the nearest like a steamboat
paddle-wheel I could find," and he gave the footstool a little kick. "But
all kinds of wheels go around, Laddie."

"No, they don't," exclaimed the little fellow. "That's a riddle! What kind
of a wheel doesn't go 'round?"

"Oh, let's give it up," proposed Rose. "Tell us, Laddie, and then we'll
get in the make-believe steamboat Russ has made, and we'll have a ride.
What kind of a wheel doesn't go around?"

"A wheelbarrow doesn't go 'round!" laughed Laddie.

"Oh, it does _so_!" cried Rose. "The _wheel_ goes around."

"But the _barrow_ doesn't--that's the part you put things in," went on
Laddie. "_That_ doesn't go 'round. You have to push it."

"All right. That's a pretty good riddle," said Russ with a laugh. "Now
let's get on the steamboat and we'll have a ride," and he began to whistle
a little bit of a new song, something about down on a river where the
cotton blossoms grow.

"Where is steamboat?" asked Margy, aged five, whose real name was
Margaret, but who, as yet, seemed too little to have all those letters
for herself. So she was just called Margy. "Where is steamboat?" she
asked. "Is it in the kitchen on the stove?" and she opened wide her dark
brown eyes and looked at Russ.

"Oh, you're thinking of a steam _teakettle_, Margy," he said, as he took
hold of her fat, chubby hand. "The teakettle steams on the kitchen stove,"
went on Russ. "But we're making believe this is a steamboat in here," and
he pointed to the barrel, the boxes, the chairs and the footstool, which
he and Rose had piled together with such care. For it was a rainy day and
the children were having what fun they could in the big playroom.

"I want to go on steamboat," spoke up the sixth member of the Bunker
family a moment later.

"Yes, you may have a ride, Mun Bun," said Rose. "You may sit with me in
front and see the wheels go around."

Mun Bun, I might say, was the pet name of the youngest member of the
family. He was really Munroe Ford Bunker, but it seemed such a big name
for such a little chap, that it was nearly always shortened to Mun. And
that, added to half his last name, made Mun Bun.

And, really, Munroe Ford Bunker did look a little like a bun--one of the
light, golden brown kind, with sugar on top. For Mun, as we shall call
him, was small, and had blue eyes and golden hair.

"Come on, Mun Bun!" called Russ, who was the oldest of the family of six
little Bunkers, and the leader in all the fun and games. "Come on,
everybody! All aboard the steamboat!"

"Oh, wait a minute! Wait a minute!" suddenly called Vi. "Is there any
water around your steamboat, Russ?"

"Water? 'Course there is," he answered. "You couldn't make a steamboat go
without water."

"Is it deep water?" asked Vi, who seemed started on her favorite game of
asking questions.

Russ thought for a minute, looking at the playroom floor.

"'Course it's deep," he answered. "'Bout ten miles deep. What do you ask
that for, Vi?"

"'Cause I got to get a bathing-dress for my doll," answered the little
girl. "I can't take her on a steamboat where the water is deep lessen I
have a bathing-suit for her. Wait a minute. I'll get one," and she ran
over to a corner of the room, where she kept her playthings.

"Shall I bring a red dress or a blue one?" Vi turned to ask her sister
Rose.

"Oh, bring any one you have and hurry up!" called Russ. "This steamboat
won't ever get started. All aboard! Toot! Toot!"

Vi snatched up what she called a bathing-dress from a small trunkful of
clothes belonging to her dolls, and ran back to the place where the
"steamboat" floated in the "ten-miles-deep water," in the middle of the
playroom floor.

"Now I'm all ready, an' so's my doll," said Vi, as she climbed up in one
of the chairs behind the big, empty flour barrel that Mother Bunker had
let Russ take to make his boat. "Gid-dap, Russ!"

"Gid-dap? What you mean?" asked Russ, stopping his whistling and turning
to look at his sister.

"I mean start," answered Vi. "Don't you know what gid-dap means?"

"Sure I know! It's how you talk to a horse. It's what you tell him when
you want him to start."

"Well, I'm ready to start now," said Vi, smoothing out her dress, and
putting the bathing-suit on her doll.

"Pooh! You don't tell a steamboat to 'gid-dap' when you want _that_ to
start!" exclaimed Russ. "You say 'All aboard! Toot! Toot!'"

"All right then. Toot! Toot!" cried Vi, and Margy and Mun, who had climbed
up together in a single chair beside Vi, began to laugh.

"I know another riddle," announced Laddie, as he took his place inside the
barrel, for he was going to be the fireman, and, of course, they always
rode away down inside the steamboat. "I know a nice riddle about a horse,"
went on Laddie. "What makes a horse's shoes different from ours?" he
asked.

"Oh, we haven't time to bother with riddles now, Laddie," said Rose. "You
can tell us some other time. We're going to make-believe steamboat a long
way across the deep water now."

"A horse's shoes aren't like ours 'cause a horse doesn't wear
stockings--that's the answer," went on Laddie.

"All aboard!" cried Russ again.

"All aboard!" repeated Laddie.

"Oh, let's sing!" suddenly said Rose. She was a jolly little girl and had
learned many simple songs at school.

"Let's sing about sailing o'er the dark blue sea," went on Rose. "It's an
awful nice song, and I know five verses."

"We'll sing it after a while," returned Russ. "We got to get started now.
All ready, fireman!" he called to Laddie, who was inside the barrel.
"Start the steam going. I'm going to steer the boat," and Russ took his
place astride the front end of the barrel, and began twisting on a stick
he had stuck down in one of the cracks. The stick, you understand, was the
steering-wheel, even if it didn't look like one.

"All aboard! Here we go!" cried Laddie from down inside the barrel, and he
began to hiss like steam coming from a pipe. Then he began to rock to and
fro, so that the barrel rolled from side to side.

"Here! What're you doing that for?" demanded Russ from up on top. "'You're
jiggling me off! Stop it! What're you doing, Laddie?"

"I'm making the steamboat go!" was the answer. "We're out on the rough
ocean and the steamboat's got to rock! Look at her rock!" and he swung the
barrel to and fro faster than ever.

"Oh! Oh!" cried Rose. "It's all coming apart! Look! Oh, dear! The barrel's
all coming apart!"

And that's just what happened! In another moment the barrel on which Russ
sat fell apart, and with a clatter and clash of staves he toppled in on
Laddie. Then the chairs, behind the barrel, where Rose, Vi and Margy and
Mun were sitting, toppled over. In another instant the whole steamboat
load of children was all upset in the middle of the playroom floor, having
made a crash that sounded throughout the house.

CHAPTER II

DADDY BUNKER'S WORRY

"Dear me! What's that? What happened?" called Mother Bunker from the
sitting-room downstairs. "Is any one hurt, children? What did you do?" she
asked, as she stood, with some sewing in her hands, at the foot of the
stairs, listening for some other noise to follow the crash. She expected
to hear crying.

"Is any one hurt?" she asked again. She was somewhat used to noises. One
could not live in the house with the six little Bunkers and not hear
noises.

"No'm, I guess nobody's hurt," answered Russ, as he climbed out from the
wreck of the barrel. "Get up," he added to his brother Laddie.

"I can't," answered Laddie. "My leg's all twisted up in the soap-box." And
so it was. A box had been put on one of the chairs, and Mun Bun and Margy
had been sitting on that. This box had fallen on Laddie's leg, which was
twisted up inside it.

"But what happened?" asked Mother Bunker again. "You really mustn't make
so much noise when you play."

"We couldn't help it, Mother," said Rose, who, being the oldest girl, was
quite a help around the house, though she was only seven years old. "The
steamboat turned over and broke all up, Mother," she went on.

"The steamboat?" repeated Mrs. Bunker.

"I made one out of the flour-barrel you let me take," explained Russ. "But
Laddie rocked inside it, and it all fell apart, and then the chairs fell
on top of us and Mun and Vi and Margy all fell out and--"

"Oh, my dears! Some of you may be hurt!" cried Mrs. Bunker, as she heard a
little sob from Mun Bun. "I must come up and see what it is all about,"
and, dropping her sewing, up the stairs she hurried.

There were six little Bunkers, as you have probably counted by this time.
Six little Bunkers, and they were such a jolly bunch of tots and had such
good times, even if a make-believe steamboat did upset now and then, that
I'm sure you'll like to hear about them.

To begin with, there was Russ Bunker. Russell was his real name, but he
was always called Russ. He was eight years old, and was very fond of
"making things."

Next came Rose Bunker. She was only seven years old, but she could do some
sweeping and lots of dusting, and was quite a little mother's helper. Rose
had light hair and eyes, while Russ was just the opposite, being dark.

Violet, or Vi, aged six, was a curly-haired girl, with gray eyes, and, as
I have told you, she could ask more questions than her father and mother
could answer.

Then there was Laddie, or Fillmore, a twin of Vi's, and, naturally, of the
same age. Just how he happened to be so fond of asking riddles no one
knew. Perhaps he caught it from Jerry Simms, who had served ten years in
the army, and who never tired of telling about it. Jerry was a
not-to-be-mistaken Yankee who worked around the Bunker house--ran the
automobile, took out the furnace ashes and, when he wasn't doing
something like that, sitting in the kitchen talking to Norah O'Grady, the
jolly, good-natured Irish cook, who had been in the Bunker family longer
than even Russ could remember.

Jerry was a great one for riddles, too, only he asked such hard ones--such
as why does the ginger snap, and what makes the board walk?--that none of
the children could answer them.

But I haven't finished telling about the children. After Laddie and Violet
came Margy, aged five, and then Mun Bun, the youngest and smallest of the
six little Bunkers.

Of course there was Daddy Bunker, whose name was Charles, and who had a
real estate office on the main street of Pineville. In his office, Mr.
Bunker bought and sold houses for his customers, and also sold lumber,
bricks and other things of which houses were built. He was an agent for
big firms.

Mother Bunker's name was Amy, and sometimes her husband called her "Amy
Bell," for her last name had been Bell before she was married.

The six little Bunkers lived in the city of Pineville, which was on the
shore of the Rainbow River in Pennsylvania. The river was called Rainbow
because, just before it got to Pineville, it bent, or curved, like a bow.
And, of course, being wet, like rain, the best name in the world for such
a river was "Rainbow." It was a very beautiful stream.

The Bunker house, a large white one with green shutters, stood back from
the main street, and was not quite a mile away from Mr. Bunker's real
estate office, so it was not too far even for Mun Bun to walk there with
his older sister or brother.

The six little Bunkers had many friends and relatives, and perhaps I had
better tell you the names of some of these last, so you will know them as
we come to them in the stories.

Mr. Bunker's father had died when he was six years old, and his mother,
Mrs. Mary Bunker, had married a man named Ford. She and "Grandpa Ford"
lived just outside the City of Tarrington, New York. "Great Hedge Estate"
was the name of Grandpa Ford's place, so called because at one side of
the house was a great, tall hedge, that had been growing for many years.

Grandma Bell was Mrs. Bunker's mother, and lived at Lake Sagatook, Maine.
She was a widow, Grandpa Bell having died some years ago. Margy, or
Margaret, had been named for Grandma Bell.

Then there was Aunt Josephine Bunker, or Aunt Jo, Mr. Bunker's sister. She
had never married, and now lived in a fine house in the Back Bay section
of Boston. Uncle Frederick Bell, who was Mother Bunker's brother, lived
with his wife, on Three Star Ranch, just outside Moon City in Montana.

And now, when I have mentioned Cousin Tom Bunker, who had recently been
married, and who lived with his wife Ruth at Seaview, on the New Jersey
coast, I believe you have met the most important of the relatives of the
six little Bunkers. You see they had a grandfather, and two grandmothers,
some aunts, an uncle and a cousin. Well supplied with nice relatives, were
the six little Bunkers, and thus they had many places to visit.

But I'll tell you about that part later on. Just now we must see what
happened after the steamboat broke to pieces because Laddie jiggled
himself inside the barrel, when Russ was sitting on the outside of it.

"Are you sure none of you is hurt? You look so!" cried Mother Bunker, as
she saw the confused mass of children, barrel staves, box, footstool and
chairs in the middle of the playroom floor.

"I'm all right," said Laddie, as he pulled his leg out from where it was
doubled up in the box, and stood up straight.

"So'm I," added Russ. "Did I fall on you, Laddie?"

"Yep--but it didn't hurt me much."

"My dear Mun Bun!" said his mother, pulling the little boy out from under
a chair. "Are _you_ hurt?"

Munroe Bunker was going to cry, but when he saw that Margy had no tears in
her eyes, he made up his mind that he could be as brave as his little
sister. So he squeezed back his tears and said:

"I just got a bounce on my head."

"Well, as long as it wasn't a bump you're lucky," said Russ with a laugh.

Vi pulled her doll out from under the pile of barrel staves. The doll's
bathing-dress was torn, but Rose said that didn't matter because it was an
old one anyhow.

"What made it break?" asked Vi as she did this. "Did somebody hit your
steamboat, Russ? Or did it just sink?"

"I guess it sank all right," Russ answered, laughing.

"Well, what made it?" went on Vi.

"Oh, my dear! Don't ask so many questions," begged Mrs. Bunker.

"I got a new riddle," announced Laddie, as he rubbed his leg where it had
been a little scratched on a box. "It's a riddle about a wheelbarrow
and----"

"You told us that!" interrupted Russ.

"Well, then I can make up another," Laddie went on. He was always ready to
do that. "This one is going to be about a barrel. When does a barrel feel
hungry?"

"Pooh! There can't be any answer to that!" declared Russ. "A barrel can't
ever be hungry."

"Yes it can, too!" cried Laddie. "When a barrel takes a roll, isn't it
hungry? A roll is what you eat," he explained, "I didn't think that
riddle up," he added, for Laddie was quite honest. "Jerry Simms told me.
When is a barrel hungry? When it takes a roll before breakfast--that's the
whole answer."

"That's a very good riddle," said Mrs. Bunker with a smile. "But I haven't
yet heard what happened."

"Didn't you hear the noise?" asked Rose with a laugh. "It made a terrible
bang."

"Oh, yes, I heard _that_," answered Mrs. Bunker. "But what caused it?" she
asked anxiously.

Five little Bunkers looked at Russ, as the one best fitted to tell about
the upset.

"We had a make-believe steamboat," explained the oldest boy. "Laddie was
inside the flour barrel you let me take. He was the fireman. I sat outside
the barrel to steer. But Laddie jiggled and wiggled and joggled inside the
barrel and----"

"I had to, Mother, 'cause I was making believe the steamer was on the
rough ocean where the water is ten miles deep," interrupted Laddie. "So I
rolled the barrel and joggled it and----"

"And then it fell in!" added Rose. "I saw it."

"I _felt_ it," remarked Russ, rubbing his back. "But it didn't hurt me
much," he added.

"I guess the barrel was so old and dry that it couldn't hold together when
you two boys got to playing with it," said Mrs. Bunker. "Well, I'm glad it
was no worse. At first it sounded as though the house was coming down. You
had better play some other game now."

"Oh, the rain has stopped!" cried Rose, looking out of a window. "We can
play out in the yard now."

"Yes, I believe you can," said her mother. "But you must put on your
rubbers, for the ground is damp. Run out and play!"

With shouts of glee and laughter the six little Bunkers started to go
outdoors. It was a warm day, late in June, and even the rain had not made
it too cool for them to be out.

As the six children trooped out on the side porch they saw their father
coming up the walk.

"Why, it isn't supper time, and daddy's coming home!" exclaimed Rose.

"What do you s'pose he wants?" asked Russ.

"Maybe he heard the barrel break and came up to see about it," suggested
Laddie.

"He couldn't hear the barrel break away down to his office," said Russ.

Just then Mrs. Bunker, from within the house, saw her husband approaching.
She went out on the porch to meet him.

"Why, Charlie!" she exclaimed, "has anything happened? What is the matter?
You look worried!"

"I am worried," said Mr. Bunker. "I've had quite a loss! It's some
valuable real estate papers. They are gone from my office, and I came to
see if they were on my desk in the house. Hello, children!" he called to
the six little Bunkers. But even Mun Bun seemed to know that something was
wrong. Daddy Bunker's voice was not at all jolly.

His loss was worrying him, his wife well knew.

CHAPTER III

GRANDMA'S LETTER

While the other children, being too young to understand much about Daddy
Bunker's worry, ran down to play in the yard, Russ and Rose stayed on the
porch with their father and mother. They heard Mrs. Bunker ask:

"What sort of papers were they you lost?

"Well, I don't know that I have exactly lost them," said Mr. Bunker
slowly, as though trying to think what really had happened, "I had some
real estate papers in my desk at the office. They were about some property
I was going to sell for a man, and the papers were valuable. But a little
while ago, when I went to look for them, I couldn't find them. It means
the loss of considerable money."

"Perhaps they are in your desk here," said Mrs. Bunker, for her husband
sometimes did business at his home in the evening, and had a desk in the
sitting-room.

"Perhaps they are," said the father of the six little Bunkers. "That is
why I came home so early--to look."

He went into the house, followed by his wife and Russ and Rose. Mr. Bunker
stepped over to his desk, and began looking through it. He took out quite
a bundle of books and papers, but those he wanted did not seem to be
there.

"Did you find them?" asked his wife, after a while.

"No," he answered with a shake of his head, "I did not. They aren't here.
I'm sorry. I need those papers very much. I may lose a large sum of money
if I don't find them. I can't see what could have happened to them. I had
them on my desk in the office yesterday, and I was looking at them when
Mr. Johnson came along to see about buying some lumber from the pile in
the yard next to my office."

"Perhaps Mr. Johnson might know something about the papers," suggested
Mrs. Bunker.

Her husband did not answer her for a moment. Then he suddenly clapped his
hands together as a new thought came to him, and he said:

"Oh, now I remember! I left those papers in my old coat."

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