"Come, Mun Bun!" called his mother. "Come along!"
"I—I can't come!" the little fellow answered. "I can't stand on my legs."
"What's the matter? Is your foot asleep?" asked his father. You know that sometimes happens if you sit with your legs cramped.
"No, it isn't my feet, but I just can't get up," went on Mun Bun. "I guess I'm sewed fast to the board."
"Sewed fast to the board!" cried his mother. "What does the child mean?"
"I'm fast!" went on Mun Bun, and when he did manage to stand up the board, on which he had been sitting, came up with him, fast to the seat of his little trousers.
"Oh, it must be caught on a nail!" said Rose. "You've sat on a nail, Mun Bun!"
"No, I didn't sit on a nail," said the little fellow. "But I guess it's something else. It's soft and sticky!"
His mother hurried over toward him. By the light of the beach fire she looked him over.
"Why, Mun Bun!" cried Mrs. Bunker, "you've sat in a lot of the marshmallow candies, and that's why the board is sticking fast to you. Look!" She pulled the piece of drift wood loose from the little fellow's trousers. A wad of candy came with it.