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"Yes," replied Colonel Harris, "in early days, Americans doubtless lacked appreciation of art, but we always gave our cousins across-sea a warm reception." "Colonel Harris," said Mr. Searles, "it has always puzzled me to understand why you should have built near Boston the Bunker Hill Monument." "Mr. Searles, because we Americans whipped the British."
"You can have that." "Thanks," laughed Sue. "Oh, I know we'll have fun." Harry and Charlie said they would help Bunny. "But making the box-place, like a little theatre, where Mr. Punch stands, is going to be hard," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'll get Bunker Blue to help us," said Bunny.
"Look at those children!" "Pull over! Pull over!" cried people along the sidewalk. One or two men ran out to grasp the bridle of Toby and swing him over, for it seemed that all Bunny was doing had no effect. But before any of the men could reach the pony Bunker Blue came dashing along. He was on his way to the Brown house to cut the grass, and he saw the danger of Bunny and Sue.
I would be glad to give him all he wanted. I wouldn't see anyone go hungry." "He looked like a tramp," said Bunker. "But he was only a boy," remarked Uncle Tad. "I wish he hadn't run away," said Mother Brown. "I don't believe he got half enough to eat. He took only a little." She could tell that by looking in the ice box.
"You bet I have!" spoke up Bunker, now suddenly strictly business; but as he waited expectantly there was a shout from the trail and Professor Diffenderfer came rushing up. "Oh, I heard you!" he cried shaking a trembling fist at Bunker. "I heard vot you said about my claim! Und now, Mister Bunk, I'll have my say no sir, you haf no goot title.
The whole country, near by, was in sympathy with the army. The adjacent islands, inlets, and bays swarmed with scouting parties, which cut off supplies from the city. The army had its redoubts and trenches, and the heights of Bunker Hill were in sight as a pledge of full ability to resist assault.
“Ze doctor ordered zem,” he began—“I mean, I am fond of fishes.” The Countess looked hard at the unhappy young man, and then turned severely to his friend. “What is the matter with the Baron?” she demanded. Mr Bunker saw there was nothing for it but heroic measures. “The dog was destroyed at once,” he replied, with intense gravity. “It is therefore impossible to say exactly what is the matter.”
Do we remember still Old Plymouth Rock, and Lexington, and famous Bunker Hill? The debt we owe our fathers' graves? and to the yet unborn, Whose heritage ourselves must make a thing of pride or scorn?
The Southern States have even gone so far on this subject, as to assume the designation of "patriot States," in contra-distinction to their northern neighbors and this too, while Bunker Hill and Faneuil Hall are still standing! It certainly was a pleasant idea to exchange the appellation of slave States for that of patriot States it removed a word which in a republic is unseemly and inconsistent.
The poor darlin'!" "Oh, no!" exclaimed Rose, as she trotted along with her mother and Norah, "Mun isn't in a balloon. His balloon is caught in a big tree and the little darlin' won't come away and " "It couldn't be much worse!" gasped Norah. "We'll have to get a fireman with a long ladder, 'tis probable, to get him down." "I don't see how it could have happened," said Mrs. Bunker.
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