A LETTER AND A BIG LIGHT
"Why, Mun Bun!" murmured Russ.
"Why, Margy Bunker!" exclaimed Rose.
Mun Bun was staring with all his eyes (and he had two very bright ones)
at the rubber plant. He did not consider the mischief he had done. He
was as curious as Vi could possibly have been about an entirely
different thing.
"If that's a rubber plant, Russ," he demanded, "where's the rubbers? I
don't see any overshoes on it. What part of it is rubber?"
At that the black man threw back his head and laughed loudly. The
children all watched his open mouth and rolling eyes and flashing teeth
and finally they broke into laughter too. They could not help it.
"But," said Russ, after they had stopped laughing, "I am afraid Mr.
Armatage will be angry with us."
"I dunno--I dunno, chile," said the negro, shaking his head. "He sure is
partic'lar 'bout dat rubber plant. But mebbe I can repot it and fix it
up all right. It's only just been uprooted, and I was gwine to change de
dirt in dat tub, anyway."
"Oh! Do you think you can do it and save Mun Bun and Margy from getting
a scolding?" Rose cried.
"We'll see, lil' Miss. Shouldn't wonder," and the gardener went to work
at once.
Meanwhile Bobo sat on his haunches and mournfully looked at what was
going on. His red eyes had a very sad expression and his drooping ears
made him look, so Rose said, more mournful still.
"He looks as if he'd just come from a funeral," she said to Russ.
"What's that?" demanded Margy promptly.
But Rose and Russ dodged that question. In fact they did not know how to
explain just what a funeral was. But in watching the gardener replace
the rubber plant in the green tub, surrounded with fresh earth from the
green house, the little ones forgot everything else, even Bobo.
Bobo, just as soon as he could, went into his house and smelled all
around and finally lay down, his muzzle sticking out of the door.
"He looks unhappy," Rose said. "I guess he thought he wasn't going to
have any home at all when he saw you two in there with the rubber
plant."
"It was a good Christmas tree," was Margy's only reply to this.
"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. Christmas Eve there was a
beautiful display of fireworks on the front lawn of the big house, and
everybody from the quarters came to see it, as well as the white folks.
Even Mammy June came up from her cabin by the stream, walking with
difficulty, for she was lame, and sat in state on the porch "with de
w'ite folks" to see the fireworks.
The old woman had taken a strong liking to the six little Bunkers and
she made as much of them as she did of the three little Armatages. But
the latter were not jealous at all. Phillis and Alice and Frane, Junior,
were likewise delighted with the children from the North.
Christmas Day dawned brilliantly, and although there was what Mr.
Armatage called "a tang" in the air it was so warm that it was hard for
the Bunker children to realize that this was the day that they expected
up North to be "white."
"A 'white Christmas' doesn't mean anything down here in Georgia," said
Daddy Bunker. "Though once in a while they have a little snow here. But
they never speak of it--not the natives. It is a sort of scandal in the
family," and he laughed, looking at Mother Bunker, who understood him if
the children did not.
But white or green, that Christmas Day was a delightful one. Even
without a gaudily lighted and trimmed tree, the Bunkers were pleased in
every way. Their presents were stacked with those belonging to the
Armatage children under the chimneypiece in the big front parlor, and
Mr. Armatage himself made the presentations.
There were presents from "all over" for the six little Bunkers; for no
matter how far they were away from their many relatives and friends, the
six were fondly remembered. Even Cowboy Jack sent gifts from Texas!
With the presents from Aunt Jo came a letter particularly addressed to
the children. Russ read it aloud to them all. It gave news of William's
neuralgia (Vi still insisted on calling it "croup") and about Annie and
Parker. Even the Great Dane, Alexis, was mentioned. But the most
important thing spoken of in the letter to the children's minds was the
fact that Aunt Jo said she meant to keep Sam, the colored boy Mun Bun
and Margy had introduced into her Back Bay home, all winter.
"The boy is really a treasure," said Aunt Jo. "He can do something
besides dance--although he does plenty of that in the kitchen to the
delight of Parker, Annie and William. He has been taught to work, and is
really a very good houseboy. And he looks well in his uniform."
"I'd like to see him in a uniform," said Laddie. "Is he a soldier, or a
policeman?"
"He's a 'buttons,'" replied Mother Bunker, laughing. "Aunt Jo has always
wanted to have a boy in buttons to answer the door and clean the
knives."
"I'd rather see him dance again," said Russ, and he slyly tried to cut
that pigeon wing once more. But he made a dismal failure of it.
There was dancing in plenty at the negro quarters that Christmas
evening. All the white folks went down from the big house to watch the
proceedings. And again Mammy June was there.
There had been a great feast for the hands, but although one grinning
negro boy confessed to Russ that he was "full o' tuck," he still could
dance. This boy was applauded vigorously by his mates, and one of them
called out:
"'Lias! show dese w'ite folks how _to_ cut dat pigeon wing. Go on, boy!"
"Lawsy me!" exclaimed Mammy June, "don't none of you know how to do dat
like my Sneezer. If he was here he'd show 'em. Just you dance plain,
honey. Double shuffle's as much as you can do."
So her grandson, 'Lias, did not try any fancy steps. Privately, however,
and much to Rose's amusement, Russ Bunker often tried to copy Sam's
pigeon-wing step.
"If we ever go to Aunt Jo's again--and of course we shall--I am going to
get Sam to show me how to do it. I'll get it perfect some time," sighed
the oldest Bunker boy.
Vi, looking on at one of her brother's attempts, asked:
"Doesn't it hurt the pigeon to cut its wing?"
But that was a silly question, and they all laughed at her. Laddie grew
suddenly excited.
"Oh! I know a new riddle!" he cried. "It's a good riddle!"
"What is it?" asked his twin sister.
"It isn't a good riddle just because you made it up, Laddie," said Rose.
"It would be a good one no matter who made it up," answered Laddie
decidedly. "You let me tell it. I know it's good."
"What is it, Laddie?" Russ Bunker asked.
"Here is the riddle," said Laddie eagerly. "What sort of wing has no
feathers on it? And the answer is, of course, 'A pigeon wing.' There!
Isn't that a fine riddle?"
"Pooh!" said Vi. "I don't think so."
"Some pigeons' wings have feathers," said Rose.
"Hoh!" cried Laddie, somewhat disturbed. "That one Russ was trying to
make doesn't have any feathers on it."
"That's only one kind, and it isn't really a pigeon's wing, you know."
Laddie stared at his sister, Rose, with much doubt. "You're always
disappointing me, Rose," he murmured.
"But Rose is right, Laddie," said Russ. "And there are other wings that
have no feathers."
"What wings?" grumbled Laddie.
"I know!" cried Vi suddenly. "Airplane wings! They haven't any
feathers."
"But they are no more like real wings," complained Rose, "than Russ's
dancing step."
"No," said the oldest Bunker boy. "I mean bat's wings. Don't you
remember that bat we caught that time? Its wings didn't have feathers
at all. It was covered with fur."
"Oh, well," sighed Laddie. "Then my riddle isn't any good."
"Not much, I am afraid," said Russ kindly but firmly.
However, Laddie and the other little Bunkers did not have many
disappointing things happen to them on this lovely Christmas Day. Mr.
and Mrs. Armatage tried in every way to make the stay of their guests at
the Meiggs Plantation as pleasant as possible.
After the celebration at the quarters the white folks came home, and
there at the big house a fine party was soon under way. People had come
in their cars from far and near and the house was brilliantly lighted on
the first two floors.
The children were allowed to look on at this grown folks' party for a
little while, then they had to go to bed. Phillis and Alice and Frane,
Junior, seemed to consider it very hard that they were not allowed to
stay downstairs; but the little Bunkers were used to having their own
good times and did not expect to enter into the amusements of their
elders.
"Let's sit on the top step of these stairs," said Phillis to Rose and
Alice, "and we can see through the balustrades. There's Mrs. Campron!
She's got a lovely dress on, and diamonds."
Rose remained with the two Armatage girls for a little while and Russ
saw to it that the little folks went to bed. Then he came out into the
hall again to see what the girls were doing. Before he could ask them he
chanced to look out of the back window at the end of the long hall.
"Oh!" cried Russ Bunker. "What is that?"
"What's what?" demanded Phillis. "What do you see?"
"Is it a shooting star?" went on Russ. "See that light! I believe it
must be a fire."
The girls came running to join him then, more interested in what Russ
saw than they were in what was going on at the party below.