coat to a tramp, and
the papers were in one of the pockets," and he told his wife what had
happened at the real estate office.
"And we got a letter from Grandma Bell!" exclaimed Rose as soon as she had
a chance to speak.
"And we're going to see her--up to Lake Sagatook, in Maine," added Russ.
"No? Really?" cried Mrs. Bunker in delight. "Did you get a letter from
mother?" she asked her husband.
"Yes, it came to me at the office," he answered, giving it to his wife.
"Do you think we can go?" she asked, when she had read the letter.
"Why, yes, I guess so," slowly answered Mr. Bunker. "It will do you good
and the children good, too. We'll go to Grandma Bell's!"
"Oh, goody!" cried Russ, and he began to whistle a merry tune. Rose
started to sing a little song, and then she said:
"Oh, but I must go in and help set the table!" for she often did that, as
Norah had so much else to do at meal-time.
"All right, Little Helper!" said Mother Bunker with a smile. "We can talk
about the trip to grandma's when we are eating supper."
Some of the other children heard the good news--the loss of the real
estate papers did not bother them, for they were too little to worry; but
they loved to hear about Grandma Bell.
"And I'm going to take some fire-to'pedos!" exclaimed Laddie. "I'm going
to shoot 'em off for Fourth of July at grandma's."
Daddy Bunker shook his head.
"I think we'd better have our Fourth of July at home here, before we go,"
he said. "That will be next week, and we can go to Maine soon afterward.
Grandma Bell doesn't like fire-crackers, anyhow. We'll shoot them off
before we go."
"Goody!" cried Laddie again. Anything suited him as long as he could have
fun. "We'll shoot sky-rockets, too. What makes 'em be called sky-rockets?"
he asked, "Do they go up to the sky?"
"You go and ask Jerry Simms about that," suggested Mr. Bunker. "Jerry can
tell you how they shot signaling rockets in the army. Trot along!"
Laddie was glad to do this. He liked to hear Jerry talk.
"Maybe he'll tell me a riddle about sky-rockets," said the little fellow.
Russ sat down on the porch and began whittling some bits of wood with his
knife.
"What are you making now, Russ?" asked his father, while Mrs. Bunker went
in to see that Rose was setting the table right, and that Norah had
started to get the meal.
"I'm making a wooden cannon to shoot fire-crackers," the boy answered.
"You can put a fire-cracker in it and ligh
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