Six little Bunkers at farmer Joel's

The hired man carefully set down the basket of eggs he had gathered from different places in the barn. Then he looked up toward the haymow. This mow was where the hay was piled in the barn to be kept dry so it could be fed to the horses.

“Were Margy and Mun Bun up there?” asked Adam of Violet.

“Yes, they went up there to slide down. Hay’s slippery, you know,” answered Violet. “Course it isn’t as slippery as snow or ice, but you can slide down hill on a pile of hay.”

“I know,” chuckled Adam. “I often used to do it when I was a boy on the farm. But I don’t see the children now.”

“You can hear them—listen!” advised Violet.

Again came the voices of Mun Bun and Margy.

“We’re in the dark! We’re in the dark!” wailed Margy, who did not like dark places.

“An’ the hay tickles me, it does!” howled Mun Bun. “I don’t like the hay to tickle me! Vi! Vi! Come and get me!”

Violet climbed up a little ladder that led from the floor of the barn to the top of the haymow. The ladder went all the way to the roof of the barn, for in winter the haymow was piled that full. But now there was only a little hay in the mow. It rose a few feet over the head of Adam as he stood on the barn floor, and Violet did not have to climb up many rungs of the ladder to see over the top of the pile of hay.

“They aren’t here!” she called down to Adam. “I can’t see Margy or Mun Bun anywhere, but I can hear them. And I hear a hen cackling.”

“I guess a hen has her nest up there,” said the hired man.

“Maybe the hen bit Margy and Mun Bun,” suggested Violet.

“I shouldn’t wonder but what she might peck at ’em if they tried to move her off her nest,” chuckled the hired man. “But she couldn’t hurt ’em much. Let me get up there, Violet. I think I can find Margy and Mun Bun.”

Violet climbed up higher on the ladder until she could step off upon the soft, springing pile of hay. Adam North followed her, and then, going to one corner of the mow, the hired man called:

“Here they are! I’ve found ’em!”

“Where were they?” asked Vi. “Were they hiding?”

“Well, sort of,” answered Adam, with a smile, as he reached down in the hay and lifted up first Margy and then Mun Bun. “But I guess they didn’t hide on purpose. They slipped down into the feed chute.”

“What’s that?” asked Vi.

“It’s the place where we push hay down to the horses in their stalls,” explained the hired man. “If you don’t know the feed chutes are here it’s easy to slip in ’em and fall down to the stalls.”

“Oh, would you get killed?” asked Violet, with widely opened eyes.

“No,” answered Adam. “All that would happen would be that you’d fall into the horse manger, and if the horse was there you might scare it a bit. But there aren’t any horses in the barn just now.”

Mun Bun and Margy, both of whom had been crying, now stopped, and Violet looked at the place where they had been lost in the hay. At the rear of the mow were several long wooden places, like chimneys, made of smooth boards. Down these “chimneys,” or chutes, hay could be pushed, dropping into the mangers of the horses stabled below.

Margy and Mun Bun had been running and sliding about on the pile of hay and, without knowing it, had come too near the feed chute. Into it they both slipped at the same time, carrying with them some wads of the dried grass.

As both children slid into the upright chute at the same time, they became wedged fast, together with some hay, and this stopped them from sliding all the way down to the manger. And there they had remained, caught fast, until Adam pulled them out.

“Are you hurt?” asked the hired man, as he helped the little ones down the ladder.

“No,” answered Margy. “But it was awful dark!”

“And the hay tickled the back of my neck,” added Mun Bun. “I sneezed.”

“And when he sneezed he made me bump my nose and I—now, I cried,” confessed Margy.

“Well, you’re all right now,” said Violet consolingly. “And maybe you can find some eggs.”

“Oh, I’d like to find eggs!” exclaimed Margy, quickly drying her tears.

“So would I,” added her brother, rubbing his eyes with his fists.

“All right, come on!” said Adam North. “I haven’t gathered all the eggs yet—not half, I guess.”

So the children had a good time looking for the nests in the different places the hens had hidden them. A hen, you know, likes to “steal her nest,” as the farmers call it. That is, she likes to sneak away in some quiet place and lay her eggs. Each day, or every other day, she will lay an egg in the same place. And, if the nest is not found for a week or more, sometimes there may be a dozen eggs in it, for often two or more hens may lay eggs in the same nest, taking turns.

And, when there are a dozen, or perhaps thirteen, eggs in the nest, some hen will begin to “set” on them—hovering over them for three weeks until little chickens hatch out of the eggs. The warm body and feathers on the mother hen bring the little chickens to life inside the egg, and with their beaks they pick open the shell and come out.

It is because a hen does not like to be disturbed when she is hatching out her eggs that she steals away to make her nest in as quiet and as dark a place as she can find. But farmers who raise eggs to sell do not always want them hatched out into chickens, so that is why it is needful to hunt for these hidden nests to take away the eggs.

“There’s a nest away back in there,” said Adam, who had looked under a low part of the barn. “I see some eggs, but I can’t reach them.”

“Let me crawl in an’ get ’em!” begged Mun Bun.

“Yes, I guess you’ll have to. I’m too big to get under there,” said the hired man.

“I want to get half the eggs,” said Margy.

But it was decided that it would be best for Mun Bun only to crawl under the low place in the barn, and soon he was wiggling and crawling his way there, toward the hen’s nest.

“If the old hen is on won’t she pick him?” asked Violet.

“There’s no hen on. If there had been I should have seen her,” Adam North answered. “Mun Bun will be all right if he doesn’t get stuck fast under the barn as I once was.”

But nothing like this happened, and Mun Bun brought out four eggs, one at a time, from the hidden nest. He was a proud little boy when he crawled out with the last egg, not having broken one.

“I like egg-hunting,” he said, with a laugh.

Back to Farmer Joel’s house went Margy, Mun Bun, and Violet with Adam, who was carrying the eggs. Every one laughed when they all heard how Margy and Mun Bun had been stuck in the feed chute.

It was now almost supper time, and Mother Bunker told the children to wash and get ready for the meal. Mr. Todd’s sister was going to leave on her journey soon after supper.

The meal was a merry one, for Farmer Joel was jolly and made a lot of jokes. He even started Laddie’s trick of asking riddles, and he asked many funny ones—riddles to which there was no answer.

Then, after supper, Farmer Joel drove his sister over to the railroad station, where she was to take a train to visit some relatives in the West.

The six little Bunkers were so tired after their day of travel and their afternoon of fun on the farm that they went to bed early. There was plenty of room in Farmer Joel’s house.

Sleeping in strange beds did not keep the children awake, and they were soon sound asleep. Mrs. Bunker lay awake, however, making plans for the next day, and she was somewhat surprised when, after she had been in bed an hour, she saw a ghostly white little figure coming into her room.

“Who is it? What do you want?” she asked.

“I’ve got to find the eggs!” murmured the voice of Margy. “I’ve got to crawl under and get the eggs!”

For a moment Mrs. Bunker did not know what to think as she saw Margy get down on her hands and knees and begin to crawl under the bed. Then, as Mrs. Bunker picked up her little daughter, she saw that Margy’s eyes were staring in a strange fashion.

“She’s walking and talking in her sleep!” she exclaimed to Daddy Bunker. “Wake up, Margy! Wake up!” she called, giving Margy a gentle shake.

“What’s the matter? Is it morning?” asked Margy, in a sleepy voice, and then she blinked her eyes and looked around in surprise. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “What’s the matter?”

“You were thinking so hard about hunting eggs that you got up in your sleep and began to search for some under my bed,” said Mrs. Bunker gently, as she carried Margy back to her own room. “Go to sleep now.”

Margy did. Nothing else happened that night, and the children were up bright and early the next morning. The day was filled with fun. Russ and Laddie finished their water wheel, about which I shall tell you more later.

Rose, after helping her mother, went down to the brook to gather watercress for her father, Farmer Joel having told her where to find some, and Margy, Violet and Mun Bun had a little picnic by themselves under the trees in the orchard.

It was toward the close of the afternoon that the barking of a dog was heard in front of the farmhouse. The six little Bunkers were in the back yard having some bread and jam that Norah had brought out to them.

“Maybe that is Ralph come to take us after the cows!” cried Russ.

So it proved, but when all six little Bunkers wanted to go to the distant pasture to help Ralph gather up his herd, Mrs. Bunker said:

“It’s too far for Margy and Mun Bun. But you four may go if you wish.” She knew where the cow pasture was.

Mun Bun and Margy began to cry, as they wanted to go also, but Farmer Joel said they could go egg-hunting with Adam, and this pleased the smaller children so that smiles drove away their tears.

The path to the cow pasture lay through pleasant fields, and half way to the place was a clear, sparkling spring of water at which the children stopped for a drink.

Then they climbed a hill, went down in a little valley, and as they reached a broad field, Ralph said:

“Here’s where we pasture our cows. But I don’t see all of them—the two black ones are missing.” There were ten cows in the pasture where there should have been twelve.

“Do you think anybody stole those two cows?” asked Russ.

“Oh, no,” answered Ralph. “I guess they just wandered away. They do, sometimes.”

“What do you have to do?” Violet wanted to know.

“Have to hunt ’em,” Ralph answered. “Jimsie helps me. There are lots of places where cows can hide in this pasture—lots of low places, and bushes and trees. Sometimes it takes me an hour to find the lost cows.”

“Why don’t you yell for ’em?” asked Laddie.

“I will,” said Ralph. “Co, boss! Co, boss! Co, boss!” he called loudly, the hills echoing his voice.

Then the other children called:

“Co, boss! Co, boss! Co, boss!”

But the missing cows did not come out of the cool, shady places where, doubtless, they had gone to keep out of the sun.

“We’ll have to scatter and look for ’em,” said Ralph. He and his dog Jimsie went one way, Rose and Russ went another way, and Laddie and Violet a third way. Soon the three searching parties were some distance apart.

Then, suddenly, from a part of the pasture where there was a dense clump of bushes, came shrieks from Violet.

“Oh, we’ve found the cows! We’ve found them, but they’re going to hook us!” she yelled. “Russ! Russ! The cows are going to hook us!”