"We'd better keep on playing," Rose said, very sensibly. "Then we won't bother 'bout the thunder strokes."
"It is lightning," objected Russ. "I don't mind the thunder. Thunder is only a noise."
"I don't care," said Rose, "it's the thunder that scares you—— Oh! Hear it?"
"Does the thunder hit you?" asked Vi.
"Why, nothing is going to hit us," Russ replied bravely, realizing that he must soothe any fears felt by his younger brothers and sisters. Russ was nine, and Daddy Bunker and mother expected him to set a good example to Rose and Laddie and Violet and Margy and Munroe Ford Bunker, who, when he was very little, had named himself "Mun Bun."
"Just the same," whispered Rose in a very small voice, and in Russ's ear, "I wish we hadn't come over from Captain Ben's bungalow this morning when it looked like the rain had all stopped."
"Pooh!" said Russ, still bravely, "it thunders over there just as it does here, Rose Bunker."
Of course that was so, and Rose knew it. But nothing seemed quite so bad when daddy and mother were close at hand.
"Let's play again," she said, with a little sigh.
"What'll we play?" asked Violet. "Haven't we played everything there is?"