by A. A. Milne
"Now, don't make any more noise, Russ, or Mun Bun, and wake up Margy," went on Mrs. Bunker. "She is sleeping too nicely to be awakened." Mun Bun's little sister, though in the same bed with him, had not heard him fall out, knock over the tin cup of water, and call out that he had fallen in. She slept through it all.
Mun Bun was soon dressed in a dry garment, the water on the floor was mopped up, and the light turned down again.
Then the six little Bunkers at Great Hedge quieted down and slept all the way through until morning.
But that same night, when Mother Bunker went downstairs, after having put Mun Bun back to bed, she said to her husband and Grandpa and Grandma Ford:
"What do you suppose has got into Russ to be talking about a ghost?"
"Is that what he said?" asked Grandpa Ford.
"Yes. When he was awakened by Mun's falling out of bed the first thing he called to me was that the ghost had got Mun. I don't understand where the children heard anything about such a thing."
"Nor I," said Daddy Bunker.
"We mustn't let them get the idea that anything is wrong here at Great Hedge," went on Grandpa Ford. "It might frighten them, though, of course, it is nothing like a ghost. I can't imagine where they got the idea, but we must not speak of it again in front of them.
"I do wish we could find out what it is that makes such a queer noise. Your mother and I," he said to Daddy Bunker, "have heard it many times, and now, the first night you are here, it sounds again."
"But only once," said Mr. Bunker, "and that may have been the wind, as we said it was."
"No, it wasn't the wind," declared Grandpa Ford. "For I have heard the same moaning sound when there was hardly any wind. The wind has died down now. It is quieter. I think the storm has stopped, or soon will."
He went to the window to look out, and, as he did so, there sounded through the house a deep, dull groan. It seemed to fill many rooms, and for a moment Daddy and Mother Bunker and Grandpa and Grandma Ford looked at one another. Then they listened to see if any of the children were awake. But upstairs all was quiet.
"There it goes again," said Grandpa Ford.
"I heard it," answered Daddy Bunker. "I wonder what it could have been?"
"The wind," said Mrs. Bunker in a low voice.
"But the wind has stopped blowing," remarked Grandma Ford.
"Oh, well, we'll find out what it is soon," said Daddy Bunker. "Don't let it worry you. We came here, Mother dear, to help you hunt for the queer noise, and that's what we'll do."
The grown folks listened, but the noise did not sound again, and then, as it was getting late, they all went to bed. Nothing disturbed them until morning.
"Hurray! It's stopped snowing!" cried Russ as he ran to the window and looked out. "Now we can make a snow man."
"And a snow fort!" added Laddie.
"And slide downhill, I hope," said Rose. "I wonder if Grandpa Ford has any sleds we can take?"
"He said there were some," declared Vi. "I asked him last night. And there are skates, too. I asked him that."
One might depend on Vi to ask the questions.
"Then we'll have lots of fun!" said Russ. "Come on, now, we'll get our breakfast and then we can go out and have fun."
"I want to go out and see where the horses slept," remarked Mun Bun. "Did any of them fall out of bed, I wonder?"
"No," said Grandma Ford with a laugh. "Horses have beds that are right on the floor. They are made of straw, and the horses can't fall out. But you shall see for yourself. Come, now, while the cakes are hot. And we have maple syrup to eat on them."
"Oh, hurray!" cried Russ. "I love buckwheat cakes!"
And you should have seen the breakfast the six little Bunkers ate! No, on second thought, perhaps it is just as well you didn't see it, for it might have made you hungry. But I'll tell you this much: It was a very good one.
"Now we'll go out and have some fun!" cried Russ, as they left the table. "Shall we make a snow man first, or a fort?"
"A man!" cried Mun Bun.
"A fort!" called Laddie.
"Wait just a minute, all of you," said Mother Bunker. "I don't want any of you to go out just yet."
"Oh!"
"Oh, dear!"
"Oh, Mother!"
"Why?"
Thus, one after another, cried some of the six little Bunkers. They were all much disappointed.
"Oh, I'm going to let you go out and play in the snow all you like," said Mother Bunker quickly, "only I want you to wait until I can unpack your rubber boots and leggings. Then you won't get wet. So just wait an hour or two. That won't hurt you."
"And while you are waiting you can play up in the attic," said Grandma Ford with a smile. "I think you will like it there. Our attic is very large and there are a number of old-fashioned things in it with which you may play. The Ripleys left a lot of things behind. There are old trunks, and they are filled with old clothes that you can dress up in. There is a spinning wheel and candle-moulds, there are strings of old sleigh bells. And there are some things that I used to have when I was a girl. I moved them here from our old home. Don't you think you would like to play up there?"
"Oh, of course we would!" cried Rose. "We can take up our dolls!"
"And have a play-party!" added Violet.
"And dress up and play go visiting," added Margy.
"I'm going to make something!" cried Russ, with a jolly whistle.
"I'll think up some new riddles!" declared Laddie.
"What are you going to do, Mun Bun?" asked his grandmother, for the little chap had said nothing as yet, just listening to the others.
"I—I'm not going to fall out of bed!" he answered, and then he wondered why all the others laughed.
"Well, trot up to the attic," said Grandma Ford, "and have all the fun you want. Don't be afraid of playing with things, for I don't believe you can hurt them. Then your mother and I will be getting out your rubber boots, and you may play in the snow this afternoon."
With whoops and shouts of delight the six little Bunkers trooped up to the attic. As Grandma Ford had said, it was a large one. It was over about half the house of Great Hedge Estate, and the house Grandpa Ford had bought from Mr. Ripley was a big one.
There were many rooms on the first floor, more on the second and some on the third. Then came the attic, highest of all, and in this attic were stored the things thought to be of no use any more.
As Great Hedge was in the country, though not many miles outside the city of Tarrington, there were country things in the attic, such as a spinning wheel, two of them, in fact, candlesticks, candle-moulds and so on. You all know that a candlestick is something in which to stick a candle so one may carry it around. In the olden days, before we had electric lights, gas or even kerosene lamps, the people used to read and work by means of candles.
A candle is a stick of tallow, wax or something like that, with a string, or wick, in the middle, just as rock candy has a string in the middle. Only you light the string in a candle, and you throw away the string in a stick of rock candy.
Candle-moulds are tin tubes, just the shape of candles, and into these tubes was poured the melted wax or tallow to make the light-givers.
Up into the attic tramped the six little Bunkers. From the windows, high up, they could look across the snow-covered fields. They could see the trees, now bare of leaves, and the great black hedge around Grandpa Ford's house. The big chimney of the house was hot and that kept the attic fairly warm.
"You wouldn't think a ghost could get in, would you?" asked Rose of Russ in a low voice.
"Maybe it was here already," suggested Russ. "An attic is a good place for ghosts. Let's look for one here."
"But don't let the others know," cautioned Rose, motioning to Mun Bun and Margy, Laddie and Vi.
"No," agreed Russ.
He and his sister began to look about the big attic. As Grandma Ford had said, there were many things with which to play and have fun.
"Oh, Russ!" c
ried Laddie. "Here are two spinning wheels. Couldn't you make something of them—a steamboat or an auto or something?"
"Yes, I guess I could," agreed Russ. "Let's see if they turn around easy."
He and Laddie were trying the spinning wheels, whirling them around, when there came a sudden cry from Margy. They turned to see her standing in one corner of the big attic, and, the next moment, she seemed to vanish from sight, as if she had fallen down some big hole.
"Oh, Margy! Margy!" cried Rose. "Where are you?"
The Old Spinning Wheel
For a moment there was no answer to the cry Rose gave when she saw her sister disappear from sight. The other children, frightened by Rose's scream, gathered about.
"What's the matter?" asked Russ, who was whirling one of the spinning wheels, while Laddie spun the other.
"Margy's gone!" exclaimed Rose. "She's gone, and maybe——"
"Where'd she go?" asked Russ. "Come on, Laddie, we'll find her."
Before Rose could answer Margy spoke for herself by uttering loud cries and sobs. They seemed to come from a dark hole in the attic, but the little girl herself could not be seen by her brothers and sisters.
"Oh, get me out! Get me out!" screamed Margy. "I don't like it here! It's dark!"
The five little Bunkers were puzzled. It was worse than some of Laddie's riddles. They could hear Margy, but they could not see her. She had gone into a dark corner and that seemed to be the last of her.
"Oh, what shall we do?" asked Rose.
"We better go for Daddy or Mother or Grandpa," said Russ.
"I'll go," offered Laddie.
But there was no need, for just then up the attic stairs came Mrs. Bunker and Grandma Ford. They knew right away that something was the matter.
"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bunker.
"Margy's gone, and we can't find her, but we can hear her," explained Rose.
She need not have said the last, for Margy was still screaming:
"I want to get out! Take me out! It's terrible dark here!"
"Oh, the poor child's in the nut cubby-hole!" cried Grandma Ford. "Of course it's dark there! Wait a minute, my dear, and I'll get you out," she said.
Grandma Ford quickly crossed the attic. Then she stooped over in the dark corner, reached down, and lifted something up and there was—Margy!
The little girl was carried into the light, crying and sobbing; but, as soon as she found out there was nothing the matter with her, and that she was with her mother and grandmother and brothers and sisters, she stopped crying.
"What happened to you, Margy?" asked Russ.
"I—I don't know," she answered. "I just slipped like once when I rolled downhill."
"She fell into the nut cubby-hole," explained Grandma Ford. "There are many nut trees on Great Hedge Estate, and the Ripley family used to gather the nuts and store them here in the attic to dry. But the rats and mice used to take a great many of the nuts, so they built a sort of big box down in a hole in the floor. The hole was there anyhow, being part of the attic. But it was lined with tin, so the mice could not gnaw through, and the nuts were stored in it.
"I meant to tell you children to look out for it, as it is like a hole in the floor, though it is not very deep, and one end slopes down,like a hill, so you slide into it instead of falling.
"But I forgot about it, and I forgot that the cover has been off the nut cubby-hole for some time. So Margy, walking in the dark corner, slid into this hole."
"That's what I did," said the little girl. "I slid just like going downhill."
"That's why she disappeared so suddenly," went on Grandma Ford. "The tin, being smooth, didn't hurt her a bit, as she slid. And it is very dark in there. But after this I'll keep the cover on, so no more of my little Bunkers will get into trouble."
By the gleam of a candle which she lighted, Grandma Ford showed the children the nut cubby-hole into which Margy had fallen. Then the cover was put on so there was no more danger.
"And now you may go out and play in the snow," said Mrs. Bunker. "I have unpacked your rubber boots and old, warm coats, so run out and have some fun."
Laughing, shouting, and whooping, the six little Bunkers ran out to play. It was their first sight of Great Hedge in winter by daylight, and Russ and Rose paused for a moment after getting out of doors to look at the big house, on all sides of which was the tall hedge.
"It's a terribly big house," said Russ to his sister as they tramped on through the white snow. "I wonder what part the ghost lives in, don't you?"
"I thought he was up in the attic, and took Margy," said Rose.
"So did I, at first," admitted Russ. "But I don't guess he stays there. I guess the ghost lives down cellar. We'll hunt for him after a while, and Grandpa Ford will be glad we found him."
But it was now such a fine, sunny day outside, after the storm, that the six little Bunkers thought of nothing but having fun. They raced about in the snow, threw soft balls of it at one another, and then went out to the barn.
Dick, the hired man, was there feeding the horses, and the children saw the animals that had pulled them over the snow from the railroad station the night before.
There were several small sleds in the barn—some that Grandma Ford had bought when it was decided that the six little Bunkers would visit Great Hedge Estate—and they were just the proper toys for the six little children. Soon they were coasting down a small hill which Dick showed them and also helped trample down smooth for them. For snow on a hill has to be packed hard and made smooth before one can coast well.
"Let's have a race!" cried Russ, as he and Laddie had their turn riding down the slope.
"All right, I can beat you!" Laddie shouted. And he would have done so, too, only he guided wrong, and his sled went into a bank of snow, upsetting and tumbling him off.
"But I like it!" he shouted as he got up and shook the snow from him.
"When are you going to make the snow man?" asked Vi. "I want to see a snow man. And are you going to put a phonograph inside him, Russ, and make him talk?"
"I am if I can find a phonograph little enough," said Russ.
But Russ did not wait for that. With Laddie to help him, he rolled two or three balls of snow. It was soft, for the sun was now warm, and the snow packed well. The snowballs were put together, and thus the snow man was started. The six little Bunkers then made arms and legs for him, stuck pieces of coal in for buttons on his coat and for his eyes and nose and mouth, and then Dick gave them an old hat to put on the snow man's head.
"Now he won't catch cold," said Dick, when the hat had been stuck on.
"Could he catch cold?" asked Vi. "I don't see how he could, 'cause he's cold already. He makes my hands cold," and she showed her little red fingers.
"Well, if you hear him sneeze come in and tell me," said Dick with a smile. "If a snow man sneezes that's a sure sign he's catching cold. So listen if you hear this one go 'a-ker-choo!' That means we'll have to get the doctor."
"I guess that's only a joke, like some of Laddie's riddles," remarked Russ, when Dick had gone back to the barn.
"I'm going to make up a riddle about a snow man, but I haven't got it thought out yet," said Laddie. "Come on, Russ, let's make a snow fort."
The snow man being finished, the two older Bunker boys let the smaller children play with it, and throw snowballs at it, trying to knock off the old hat, and Laddie and Russ started work on the fort.
They had great fun at this, and made quite a big fort, getting inside it and throwing snowballs at a make-believe enemy on the outside.
All that day and the next the six little Bunkers played around Great Hedge, having fun in the snow. Sometimes Mother and Grandma came out to watch them. Grandpa Ford and Daddy Bunker went to town in a cutter, with the merry jingling bells on the horse, and Daddy went home for a week on business.
Nothing more was said about the ghost for several days, and even Russ and Rose seemed to forget there was such a make-believe chap. They coasted downh
ill, played, and had fun in the snow and were very glad indeed that they had come to Grandpa Ford's.
Then, about a week after their arrival, there came a cold, blustery day when it was not nice to be out.
"Let's go up to the attic and make something with the old spinning wheels," said Russ to Laddie. "Maybe we can make an airship."
"All right," agreed Laddie. "Only we won't sail up very high in 'em, 'cause we might fall down."
Rose was out in the kitchen, watching Grandma Ford make an apple pie, and Rose was singing away, for she was trying to make a pie also—a little one with pieces left over from her grandmother's crust.
Up to the attic went Russ and Laddie, and Mun Bun followed them.
"I want to come and watch you," he said, shaking his pretty, bobbed hair around his head.
"Shall we let him?" asked Laddie.
"Oh, yes, he can watch us," said Russ, who was always kind to his little brother.
Grandma Ford had said the boys could play with the spinning wheels if they did not break them, and this Russ and Laddie took care not to do.
"First we must make 'em so both wheels will turn around together at the same time alike," said Russ.
"How are you going to do that?" Laddie asked, while Mun Bun sat down in a corner near the big chimney to watch.
"Well, we'll put a belt on 'em, same as the belt on mother's sewing-machine. Don't you know? That has a round leather belt on the big wheel, and when you turn the big wheel the little wheel goes. Same as on our tricycle, only there are chains on those."
"Oh, yes, I know," said Laddie.
They found some string and made a belt of it, putting it around each of the two big spinning wheels. Then, by turning one, the other, at some distance away, could be made to go around.
"This is just like an airship!" cried Laddie. "We'll make believe this is the engine, and we'll go up in it."
This the boys did, even pretending to take Mun Bun up on one trip. Then they played other games with the spinning wheels, making believe they worked in a big factory, and things like that.
By this time Laddie and Russ had forgotten about Mun Bun, and the little fellow had wandered off by himself to the place in the attic where the strings of sleigh bells hung. He had fun jingling these. Then Russ and Laddie found something else with which to play. These were the candle-moulds. Leaving the spinning wheels, with a number of strings and cords still fast to them, the two older boys began to make believe they were soldiers with the candle-moulds for guns.
