AT FARMER JOEL’S
Four other little Bunkers were hurrying up the platform steps to get
into the auto truck when Rose and Russ made this discovery of a strange
animal in the straw.
The first impulse of Rose was to run from the animal that, she half
thought, might be a bear that had wandered in from the woods not far
away and had found the warm straw a good place in which to sleep. The
next thought Rose had was for her smaller brothers and sisters.
Daddy Bunker and Adam North were up near the front of the truck,
getting ready to take their seats, for the engine was now cool and the
radiator filled with fresh water.
Russ had the same idea as had Rose—the desire to save his brothers and
sisters from harm. Seeing them coming up the platform steps he cried:
“Keep back! Keep back! Don’t come up here!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Laddie.
“There’s something in the straw,” Russ answered.
“It’s an animal!” added Rose. “A big animal!”
“Oh, I want to see it!” cried Mun Bun. “I like animals! Maybe we can
have a circus—this is like a circus wagon!”
The big truck certainly was. But Rose did not intend to have Mun Bun or
the other small ones rush into danger. She stood on the milk platform
at the top of the steps, holding out her hands.
“You mustn’t go in there where the animal is!” cried Rose. “Russ, can’t
you do something?” and her voice was shrill with excitement.
“I’ll get a stick—a stone—something——” panted Russ.
Just then from inside the truck came a stamping sound, as if the animal
were kicking about. At the same time a loud cry echoed.
“What’s the matter?” asked Daddy Bunker, coming back from the front end
of the truck.
At the same time Mr. Armstrong, the farmer, hurried out of a side gate,
calling:
“Did any of you see a little colt? He got out of the pasture, and I
don’t want him to run away. He’s valuable and he may get hurt.”
Before any one could answer the sound of neighing came from inside the
truck, and then Russ knew it was made by the animal he and Rose had
seen standing in the straw.
“Ha! That sounds like my colt!” said Farmer Armstrong.
“It is!” shouted Russ, with a laugh. “He’s in the auto. I’ll get him
out.”
The oldest Bunker boy started to go inside the auto truck, whence came
the neighing, stamping sound of the little horse. But Mr. Armstrong
called out:
“No, lad, don’t go in there. He might kick you. Not that he’s ugly, but
he’s in a strange place, and if you go in he might think you meant to
harm him. Better let me do it. I know how to handle that colt.”
The six little Bunkers, with their father and Adam North, stood at one
side to allow Mr. Armstrong to enter the truck. In he went, speaking
soothing words to the little colt.
“Oh, ho, Bonnie Boy! So you thought you’d hide away and go with the six
little Bunkers, did you? None of that! We want you to stay on our farm!
So you tried to hide in the straw, did you, Bonnie Boy? Well, come out
and I’ll give you a lump of sugar.”
And out of the truck, onto the milk platform, walked Mr. Armstrong,
leading by his halter the colt Bonnie Boy, as he was named.
“Oh, isn’t he sweet?” cried Violet. “How old is he and where is his
mother and has he any brothers and sisters and——”
“Careful, Vi!” laughingly called her father. “Mr. Armstrong isn’t used
to having so many questions fired at him at once.”
“Oh, I don’t mind,” laughed the good-natured farmer. “But this is the
only little colt I have, and his mother is down in the south pasture.
Now you can pet him if you want to,” he added to the children. “He
won’t kick when he’s outside here where he can see who is near him.”
Up on the platform, around Bonnie Boy, crowded the six little Bunkers,
and the colt rubbed his velvet-like nose against them and whinnied
softly.
“And to think I took him for a bear!” laughed Rose, as she stroked the
glossy neck of the colt.
“Well, he did look like one,” declared Russ.
“Did he walk up the steps?” asked Violet. “I don’t see how he could.”
“Oh, he’s a great little colt,” said Mr. Armstrong proudly. “He does
all sorts of tricks. One day he got out of the pasture and walked right
into the kitchen where my wife was making a cake. She thought I was
coming in with my big boots on, so she didn’t turn around, and the colt
put his nose on the back of her neck. She—Ha! Ha! She thought I was
kissing her. Oh, ho! ho!” and the farmer laughed heartily.
Then he led Bonnie Boy down the steps, the little colt making no
trouble at all about treading on them. He was taken back to the pasture
where his mother was waiting for him, doubtless wondering what had
become of him. It was found that there was a break in the fence, just
large enough for the colt to squeeze through, but not large enough for
his mother, or she would have followed him.
The colt had wandered about, coming up to the rear of the house, and
had then made his way to the front, going up the steps of the milk
platform, and so into the big straw-filled truck, which, perhaps, he
thought was a new kind of barn.
“Well, now we’d better be traveling,” said Mr. Bunker, when the little
colt was taken away. “We don’t want to be late in meeting mother in
Westfield.”
Once again the six little Bunkers were on their way.
They were soon at Westfield, a small country town, and when the big
truck drew up in front of the only restaurant in the place there was
the touring car, with Mrs. Bunker and Norah sitting in it, waiting.
“We got here first, and we would have been here before but I had a
puncture and we had to change a tire,” said Mrs. Bunker.
“That’s too bad,” remarked her husband.
“Did you have any adventures?” asked Mrs. Bunker.
“Oh, I should say we did!” cried Violet “There was——”
“The cutest little colt!” broke in Rose, “and he——”
“Was in the straw,” continued Russ, “and when Rose saw him she——”
“Thought he was a bear,” said Laddie.
Thus several of the little Bunkers had a turn in telling what had
happened.
“That was quite an adventure!” laughed Mrs. Bunker, when she had been
told all that had taken place at the Armstrong farm.
“I’m trying to make up a riddle about the colt, but I haven’t got very
far yet,” said Laddie. “It’s something about straw and a horseshoe
and—oh, well, maybe I’ll think of it after a while,” he said hopefully.
They had a delightful time, lunching in the restaurant, and nothing
much happened except that Mun Bun spilled a glass of water in his lap
and got wet. But as it was a warm day it didn’t matter.
Margy discovered a little kitten wandering about the eating place, and
she insisted on giving pussy some of her milk. The result was, Margy’s
hands not being very steady, that she upset a glass of milk on the
floor.
But, as the restaurant keeper said, it didn’t matter, for the floor
needed mopping anyhow.
Once more the little party started off in the two automobiles, Mrs.
Bunker and Norah in the touring car taking the lead. In about an hour
more they were at Cedarhurst. Then very soon, turning down a quiet
country road, the six little Bunkers saw in the distance a white
farmhouse in the middle of broad fields—a farmhouse with barns and
other buildings around it.
“That’s a dandy place!” exclaimed Russ.
“Lovely,” murmured Rose.
“Is that where we’re going to stay?” asked Violet.
“Yes, that is Farmer Joel’s,” her father answered.
A little later the little Bunkers were fairly tumbling out of the auto
truck in their eagerness to see all the sights. Mrs. Bunker and Norah
were already at the place.
“My, but I’m glad to see you all!” cried Farmer Joel, and the six
little Bunkers needed but one look at him to make sure they would love
him, for Mr. Todd was a kindly man. And his sister, Miss Lavina, was
just as loving and kind.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” said Miss Todd. “Now that I see so many
lovely children it makes me want to stay and play with you. But brother
Joel says I need a vacation, so I’m going off on a visit.”
The big farm was the most delightful place in the world at which to
spend a vacation. As Adam North had said, there were broad fields—some
green pastures, and others where hay and grain were growing. There were
two orchards, one of apple trees and another of peach trees.
“And don’t eat apples yet, for they aren’t ripe,” warned Farmer Joel
as the children, putting on their old clothes, started out to explore
things.
“I want to see some horses!” cried Laddie.
“I want to go where the sheep are,” Mun Bun said.
“So do I,” chimed in Margy.
“I’ll go to the kitchen to help mother,” offered Rose, but her mother
said:
“No, you run out and play now. Norah and I can manage the work all
right. Later on if you want to help you may.”
So Rose went out with Russ and the others.
“There’s a brook, Russ!” called Violet, as she caught sight of the
sparkle of a little stream.
“That’s good. Then I’ll make a water wheel and a mill,” said Russ.
He and Laddie were looking at the brook, poking in sticks to find out
how deep it was and making ready to build the dam for the water wheel,
when suddenly they heard the voice of Rose crying:
“Oh, drive him away! Make him go away! Oh! Oh! Oh!”
“What’s that?” asked Russ, looking up.
“It was Rose,” answered Laddie. “I guess——”
The loud barking of a dog interrupted him, and Rose cried again:
“Oh, Russ, come and drive him away!”