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I guess it's a sort of riddle, anyway," said Laddie. "Have you seen him?" "That sounds like a riddle," said Rose. "And of course we haven't seen him. What is the answer?" "Who is it that you are asking your riddle about?" demanded Russ. "Mun Bun," declared Laddie, breathing very hard, for he had run all the way from the stateroom. "Mun Bun isn't a riddle," said his sister. "He can't be."
"'Tis a pity that her Grace up to Whitehall can't make up her mind one way or t'other about this here Spanish business; whether she'll be friends wi' Philip, or will fight mun. For all this here shilly-shallyin', first one way and then t'other, be terrible upsettin' to folks like we. But there, what be I grumblin' about?
"Mun Bun wants bwead and milk," put in the littlest Bunker, on hearing this. "Well," said Laddie soberly, "you've got to want it a lot before you get rescued, Mun Bun. Castaways have to drink the ocean and eat their shoes before anybody rescues them." At this Mun Bun set up a wail. It seemed that his shoes were brand new and he was very proud of them.
I want 'em piled up hyear dis ebenin'. I want 'em packed down, mun, an' den tromped on, ter make room fur de nex' load. Oh, my bredren, come! fur 'dey young men shall die by de s'ord, an' dey sons an' dey daughters by de famine." The scene that followed baffles all description. Uncle Gabe struck up
After a pause, she added 'Does he write with his own hand? 'You mun see for yorsel'. He held it out to her. She looked at it mystified. 'But it's not opened! 'I hadna juist me spectacles, said Father Time, cautiously. 'Mebbee yo'll read it to me. 'But it's to his mother! cried Nelly. 'I can't open your wife's letter! 'You needn't trooble aboot that. You read it, Mum.
"Why, a Scotch sort of a gentleman, as I said before," returned mine host; "they are all gentle, ye mun know, though they ha' narra shirt to back; but this is a decentish hallion a canny North Briton as e'er cross'd Berwick Bridge I trow he's a dealer in cattle."
'Now you see you've got to die or stop prayin'; will you stop this d d prayin'? 'O massa, do please let me pray to God, do please. 'Strip off your slip, tie 'im up thar, Mun, an' give 'im a full round. It was done accordin' to order; twenty lashes with the bull whip, an' twenty strokes with the paddle.
"But we didn't get the candles to light it up," Mun Bun rejoined, walking away hand in hand with Russ. "So how could it be a Christmas tree if there weren't any candles?" As Christmas Day grew closer there was less work done and more play engaged in by everybody on the plantation.
The muskrats bring them up from the bottom in their paws, and take them out on a rock that sticks up from the water. There they eat the clams." "Well, I'm glad it wasn't a bear I saw," put in Mun Bun. "So am I," said Mother Bunker with a laugh. "But you needn't be afraid there are no bears here."
"I I guess so," he murmured. "I thought I fell into the water, 'cause I was all wet. I didn't like it." "I don't blame you," said Mrs. Bunker. "Now I'll put a dry nightgown on you, and you can go to sleep again. I'll put a chair by the bed so you won't roll out again, and I'll set the water on the bureau. "Now, don't make any more noise, Russ, or Mun Bun, and wake up Margy," went on Mrs. Bunker.
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