Six Little Bunkers at Grandpa Fords | Page 3

water, Mun Bun's father
carefully dipped the net into the water and thrust it under the bait and
the crab.

A moment later he quickly lifted the net, and in it was a great, big
crab--one of the largest Mr. Bunker had ever seen, and there were some
big ones in Clam River.
"Oh, you got him, didn't you!" cried Mun Bun, capering about. "You
caught my terrible crab, didn't you, Daddy?"
"Well, I rather guess we did, Mun Bun!" exclaimed Mr. Bunker. "He is
a big one, too."
Mr. Bunker turned the net over a peach basket, and the crab, slashing
and snapping his claws, dropped into it. Then Mun Bun looked down at
him.
"I got you, I did!" said the little boy. "My daddy and I got you, we did."
"But it took a lot of work, Mun Bun!" laughed Mr. Bunker. "If I had to
jump in and pull you out every time you wanted to catch a crab I
wouldn't like it. But he surely is a big one."
Mun Bun and his father were looking at the crab in the peach basket,
when a voice called:
"Oh, what has happened to you? You are all wet!"
Mun Bun's mother came down to the pier.
"What happened?" she repeated.
"Look at the big crab I caught!" cried the little fellow. "Daddy pulled
him out for me."
"Yes, and it looks as if Daddy had pulled out something more than a
crab," said Mrs. Bunker. "Did you fall in, Mun Bun?"
"No, I didn't zactly fall in. I--I just slipped."
"Oh," said Mrs. Bunker. "I thought maybe you'd say the crab pulled
you in."

"Well, he pretty nearly did," said the little fellow.
"He leaned too far over the water," explained Mr. Bunker to his wife.
"But I soon got him out. He's all right."
"Yes, but I'll have to change his clothes. However, it isn't the first time.
I'm getting used to it."
Well might Mrs. Bunker say that, for, since coming to Cousin Tom's
bungalow at Seaview one or more of the children had gotten wet nearly
every day, not always from falling off the pier, but from wading, from
going too near the high waves at the beach, or from playing in the
boats.
"Oh, look at Mun Bun!" cried another voice, as a little girl ran down
the slope from the bungalow to the pier. "He's all wet!"
"Did he fall in?" asked another little boy excitedly.
"Oh, look at the big crab!" exclaimed a girl, who, though older than
Mun Bun, had the same light hair and blue eyes.
"Did you catch him, Mun Bun?" asked a boy, who seemed older than
any of the six children now gathered on the pier. "Did you catch him?"
"Daddy helped me," answered Mun Bun. "And I fell in, I did!"
"That's easy to see!" laughed his mother. "Oh, did the mail come?" she
asked, for she saw that the oldest boy had some letters in his hand.
"Yes, Mother," was the answer. "Oh, look at the crab trying to get out!"
and with a stick Russ, the oldest of the six little Bunkers, thrust the
creature back into the basket.
There were six of the Bunker children. I might have told you that at the
start, but I was so excited about Mun Bun falling off the pier that I
forgot about it. Anyhow now you have time to count them.
There was Russ, aged eight years; Rose, a year younger; and then came

Laddie and Violet, who was called Vi for short.
Laddie and Vi were twins. They were six years old and both had curly
hair and gray eyes.
You could tell them apart, even if they were twins, for one was a girl
and the other was a boy. But there was another way, for Vi was always
asking questions and Laddie was very fond of making up queer little
riddles. So in case you forget who is which, that will help you to know.
Then came Margy, or Margaret, who was five years old. She had dark
hair and eyes, and next to her was the one I have already told you
about--Mun Bun. He was four years old.
While the six little Bunkers were gathered around the basket, in which
the big crab Mun Bun had caught was crawling about, Daddy Bunker
and his wife were reading the letters Russ had handed them.
"Then we'll have to go back home at once," Mrs. Bunker said.
"Yes, I think so," agreed her husband. "We were going at the end of the
week, anyhow, but, since getting this letter, I think we had better start
at once, or by to-morrow, anyhow."
"Oh, are we going home?" cried Rose.
"Yes, dear. Daddy thinks we