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Bhaer had heard all they said, while apparently absorbed in filling mugs, and overseeing little Ted, who was so sleepy that he put his spoon in his eye, nodded like a rosy poppy, and finally fell fast asleep, with his cheek pillowed on a soft bun. Mrs. Bhaer had put Nat next to Tommy, because that roly-poly boy had a frank and social way with him, very attractive to shy persons.
Yes; but then, said her secret complacency, preening itself, and suggesting that possibly a moment or two of satisfied pity might be at this point in place, he'd really wanted to take Jenny. He had taken the tickets because he had wanted to be in Jenny's company for the evening. Not Emmy's. There was all the difference. If you wanted a cream bun and got fobbed off with a scone!
"Let's go up and see which of the six little Bunkers did it," and she smiled at Mrs. Bunker. It took only a glance into the different rooms to show that all six of the little Bunkers were in bed. Margy and Mun Bun had not been awakened by the drumming or the talk, but the other four were now waiting with wide-open eyes to learn what had happened. "There it goes again!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker.
Then the inhabitants collected in little knots, and talked the matter over; and decided that there must be something wrong, in the witchcraft line; and shook their heads doubtfully; but those three old boys trotted into the "Bun and Bottle" and ordered ah! and drank off a pint of beer apiece; a thing they had not done those ten years. Drank it off at a draught, if you'll believe me.
Under the water he went, but he soon came up again, and, having held his breath, as his father had taught him to do whenever his head went under water, Mun Bun, after a gasp or two, was able to cry: "Oh, Daddy, Daddy, don't let him get me! Don't let the crab pinch me!" Daddy Bunker did not answer for a moment.
Her appearance presented a valiant attempt at smartness. The tea came at last, and Tuppence, rousing herself from a fit of meditation, poured it out. "Now then," said Tommy, taking a large bite of bun, "let's get up-to-date. Remember, I haven't seen you since that time in hospital in 1916." "Very well." Tuppence helped herself liberally to buttered toast.
She was taken to visit the "baby" in its private apartment, and saw him at close quarters, not without fear and shrinking, for the baby was as big as a house the leviathan of the ancients, as some think. Into its vast open mouth she dropped a bun, which was like giving a grain of rice to a hungry human giant.
Them 'lection-buns are no go, said the young man John, so called. I know the trick. Give a fellah a fo'penny bun in the mornin', an' he downs the whole of it. In about an hour it swells up in his stomach as big as a football, and his feedin' 's spilt for that day. That's the way to stop off a young one from eatin' up all the 'lection dinner. Salem! Salem! not Boston, shouted the little man.
"Santa never forgets me, and every time he passes he calls out, in his jolly voice, "'A merry Christmas to you, Bun Rabbit! The babies still love you dearly." The Rabbit paused, and Dorothy was just about to ask another question when Bunny raised his head and seemed to hear something coming. "What is it?" enquired the girl.
"But why do you call him the Bun?" "Oh, it's the men's name for him," said Rodd, laughing. "They nicknamed him because he was such a round-faced fellow." "Beg pardon, sir," said the man, making a tug at his forelock. "Yes, my man; you want to speak to me?" "Yes, sir; the lads asked me to say, sir, that as it's been a very rough night " "Very, my man very," said Uncle Paul, staring.
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