"Come on!" cried the eldest Bunker--Russ, who was eight years old. "Come
on, Rose, let's have some fun."

"What'll we do?" asked Rose, Russ' sister, who was about a year younger.
"I'm not going to roll on the grass, 'cause I've got a clean dress on,
and mother said I wasn't to spoil it."

"Pooh! Clean grass like Aunt Jo's won't spoil any dress," said Russ.
"Anyhow, I'm not going to roll much more. Let's get the pipes and see
who can blow the biggest soap bubbles."

"Oh, I want to do that!" cried Vi, or Violet, who was, you might say,
the third little Bunker, being the third oldest, except Laddie, of
course. "What makes so many colors come in soap bubbles when you blow
them?" she asked.

"The soap," answered Russ, getting up after a roll on the grass, and
brushing his clothes. "It's the soap that does it."

"But soap isn't that color when we wash ourselves with it," went on Vi.
"And what makes bubbles burst when you blow 'em too big?"

"I don't know," answered Russ. Like many an older person, he did not try
to answer all Vi's questions. She asked too many of them.

"Let's blow the bubbles," suggested Rose. "Then maybe we can see what
makes 'em burst!"

"Come on, Margy and Mun Bun!" called Vi to two other and smaller
Bunkers, a little boy and girl who were digging little holes in a sandy