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Updated: June 29, 2025
I confess it does look a bit odd, but it makes a ripping good gym. Certain it is that the old farm never looked as beautiful as it does now. The cow pasture once flanked with boggy marshes has been drained and rolled until the turf is smooth as velvet. The cornfields have disappeared. The straggling stone walls have been converted into bunkers, and the whole area has been converted into a park.
And the old gentleman ended with: "And now I want you all to come out there with me and help solve the mystery. I want you, Son," and he turned with a kindly look to Mr. Bunker, "and I want your wife and the six little Bunkers." "Maybe the children will be afraid of the ghost," said their mother. "We won't tell them anything about it," said Grandpa Ford with a laugh.
At any rate, I had tanks of air sufficient to last me through twelve years' voyaging; and there was the ordinary machine on board for making it, with forty tons of coal, in case of need, in the bunkers, and two excellent Belleville boilers: so I was well supplied with motors at least.
It was a fact, however, that none of them could cut that pigeon wing as Sam, the colored boy, had cut it in Aunt Jo's kitchen in Boston. Now that they were nearing the end of the voyage there were many things besides pigeon wings to interest the little Bunkers. In the first place the big sea-eagle had to be released from the turkey coop. The quartermaster called him Red Eye.
Norah O'Grady, the cheerful cook for the six little Bunkers, saw their mother hurrying out of the house with Rose. "What's the matter, Mrs. Bunker?" asked Norah. "Is there a fire, and are ye goin' for a policeman?" Firemen and policemen, aside from Jerry Simms, were Norah's two chief heroes. "No, there isn't a fire, Norah" answered Mrs. Bunker.
And the cities, bright with lights, were as shops on these long streets shops where business was transacted, where bunkers were replenished, cargoes taken or shifted, and orders received from the owners in London town to go elsewhere and beyond, ever along the long sea- lanes, seeking new cargoes here, carrying new cargoes there, running freights wherever shillings and pence beckoned and underwriters did not forbid.
It was fast becoming evident, however, that the scheme for putting in an appearance off New York must be abandoned, at all events for the present; and on the 30th October the chief engineer was consulted as to the amount of coal remaining in the bunkers. The report was unfavorable.
We sincerely hope she will; for, on the whole, the American invasion has done English society a great deal of good. American women are bright, clever, and wonderfully cosmopolitan. Their patriotic feelings are limited to an admiration for Niagara and a regret for the Elevated Railway; and, unlike the men, they never bore us with Bunkers Hill.
And the boat was being carried by the tide down the inlet toward the sea. The inlet, when the tide was flowing in or out, was like a powerful river, more powerful in its current than Rainbow River at home in Pineville, where the six little Bunkers lived. "Oh, Margy! Mun Bun!" cried Mrs. Bunker, holding out her hands to the children.
Russ, Rose, and all the rest of the six little Bunkers got up early next morning. "Is It Fourth of July yet?" asked Munroe. "No, not yet, Mun Bun," answered Rose with a laugh. "But it soon will be in a few days." "I'm going to finish my cannon," said Russ. "Come on!" called Laddie to his twin sister Vi. "Let's go down and dig a hole in the sand pile." "What for?" she asked.
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