Six Little Bunkers at Grandma Bells | Page 2

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