turn again and back-along. I's a-comin', child'en--I's a-comin'. See me
dance Jim Crow! Here I comes and dere I goes! Now, de pigeon-wing----"

He cut a most surprising figure, both hands flapping in the air and his
slim body bent and twisted at a curious angle. With a resounding slap of
the sole of his shoe on the floor he brought the dance to an end and
fell panting into his chair.

"You're some dancer, Sam," cried the eager Annie. "Ain't he, Parker?"

"What do you call that figure?" demanded Parker. "A pigeon-wing?"

"Dat's what it is," breathed Sam, smiling widely. "My own particular
invention, dat is. Nobody can't do dat like I can. No, suh!"

Just then their Mother called the six little Bunkers upstairs, and they
had to leave the kitchen. But they would all have liked to see Sam cut
that pigeon-wing again.

CHAPTER V

OFF FOR SUMMER SEAS

How busy the six little Bunkers were on the next day you can easily
imagine. Such a packing of bags and steamer trunks! Though of course
Mother Bunker did most of that, although Rose helped some. And such a
running about the bedrooms and upper halls of Aunt Jo's house asking if
this thing shouldn't be put in, or that thing shouldn't be left out!

The little people could think of more articles that might be needed down
South than ten grown-ups could imagine! Laddie was sure they would need
their bathing suits that they had had at Captain Ben's. Mun Bun, who had
been playing with Margy in the yard making big snowballs, came in to ask
his mother if they couldn't take just one of the biggest snowballs with
them in one of the trunks, because Sam, the colored boy, said there
wouldn't be any snow down South.

"But, my dear!" exclaimed Mother Bunker, laughing, "we are going down
South just to escape the snow and the cold. Why carry it with us?"

"But maybe the little boys and girls down there will want to see some
real snow," said Mun Bun, who could almost always find an answer for any
question like this.

"Then they will have to come up North to see it," declared his mother
decidedly. "We cannot take snow along on the boat, that is sure."

Violet found at least a hundred brand new questions to ask about the
preparations for the trip. Mother Bunker finally called her a
"chatterbox" and begged her to stop.

"How do you suppose I can attend to a dozen different things at once,
Violet, and answer your questions, too?"

"Never mind the things, Mother," Vi replied. "J