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You may do much good if you continue still in the land; but alas, what benefit will it be to your friends, or what good can you do to them, if you should be sent away beyond the seas into Spain, or Constantinople, or some other remote part of the world? Pray be ruled. Jailer. Indeed, Sir, I hope he will be ruled. Bun.
"I shouldn't wonder," said Robinson, "if it wasn't bad for the heart. Rushing about on an empty stomach, I mean, and all that sort of thing." "Personally," said Stone, gnawing his bun, "I don't intend to stick it." "Nor do I." "I mean, it's such absolute rot. If we aren't good enough to play for the team without having to get up overnight to catch catches, he'd better find somebody else." "Yes."
There was no time for a word, but she picked out a crusty bun, and he took it and ran back without offering to pay. It was the best bun that a man ever ate. Nora was two months out now, and he had never walked with her an evening yet. The shadows were thick under a long row of willows; there was a new moon, and a faint glow in the west still lit the sky.
In this matter, however, it did not seem as though Margy and Mun Bun could really get into much trouble. They got a little dish and filled it with corn and trotted back to the goose pen. This time the gander did not charge Mun Bun. But the whole flock was down the slope by the water and the little folks had to walk that way along the edge of the fenced lot.
"Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed, for he had happened to laugh just as he was blowing a big bubble, and it burst, scattering a little fine spray of soapy water in his face. Margy giggled delightedly. "I like this!" said Mun Bun, as he put his pipe down into the bowl of water and blew a big string of little bubbles. Just then a voice called: "Hey, Russ! Where are you?" "Back here!
Bang! That means you're shot." "All right, and then I must shoot you, after a while." "Sure, we'll play that way." So they did, and had fun. They aimed at one another with the candlestick moulds and shouted so many "bangs!" that the attic echoed with the noise. Then, suddenly, as they stopped a moment for breath, they heard the voice of Mun Bun crying: "Oh, stop pulling my hair!
"Why, the thing that's so easy to catch but nobody runs after, is a cold!" announced her twin very proudly. "And I'm so-o cold," announced Mun Bun, hanging to Rose's skirt while the older ones laughed with Laddie. "Don't Aunt Jo ever have it warm in her house like it is at home?" "Of course she does, Mun Bun," said Rose, quickly hugging the little fellow.
The gentlemen had crossed their legs comfortably and were expressing their regret to their partners that so much time was wasted in sandwiching songs between the waltzes, and the ladies were engaged in criticizing Celestine's hair, which she wore in a bun. They thought that it might be English, but it certainly was not their idea of good style.
Then the lobster fisherman called: "Don't be afraid, Mun Bun and Margy! I'll soon get you! Don't be afraid. Just stand still and don't wade off into the deep water." The island was shaped like a little hill, high in the middle, and Margy and Mun Bun had kept stepping back until they now stood on the highest part in the middle. All about them was the water, deeper in some places than in others.
Be careful, and hold on to the arms of the seats so you don't fall down. It isn't far." "I wants a drink, too," announced Mun Bun. "I'm going to drink it myself, too," he announced, "and not give it to any doll." "Well, Rose can take both of you," said Mrs. Bunker. Rose was a real "mother's helper," and often looked after the two smaller children in such things as getting them drinks of water.
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