head with considerable force--actually cutting the skin and bringing
blood. Big as he was, the oldest Bunker yelled loudly.

Then, of course, everybody yelled. Quite a panic followed. When Aunt Jo
and Mother Bunker came running to the front room where all this had
taken place the Eskimo igloo looked very much like a pile of boxes with
a young earthquake at work beneath it!

"For the good land's sake!" gasped Aunt Jo, who usually was very
particular about her speech, but who on this occasion was startled into
an exclamation. "What is happening?"

"Get off my head, Vi!" wailed Laddie, from somewhere under the tottering
pile. "It's not to sit on."

"Oh! Oh!" cried Rose. "Russ is all bloody! Oh, dear!"

"I'm not cold any more," cried Mun Bun. "Let me out! I'll be good!"

But Russ Bunker was neither crying nor struggling. He was a good deal of
a man, for a nine-and-a-half-year-old boy. Being the oldest of the six
little Bunkers there were certain duties which fell to his lot, and he
understood that one of them was to keep cool when anything happened to
excite or frighten his brothers and sisters.

The whack he had got on the head, and even the trickle of blood down his
face, did not cause Russ to lose his head. No, indeed. He, and the other
little Bunkers, had been in innumerable scrapes before, and the wreck of
the Eskimo igloo was nothing provided Aunt Jo did not make a lot out of
it. It just crossed Russ' mind that he ought to have asked his aunt