CHAPTER IV
RUSS MAKES A BALLOON
"What is it? What's the matter?" cried Mother Bunker as she opened a door leading on to the porch, where she had heard the crashing noise. Those were the first things the mother of the six little Bunkers always asked whenever anything unusual happened.
"What is the matter?" she cried.
Then she saw. Lying on the porch, under the hammock, was Russ. He was huddled in a heap, and he was doing his best not to cry. Mrs. Bunker could tell that by the way his face was wrinkled up. Near him stood Rose, and she looked startled.
"What's the matter?" repeated Mrs. Bunker. "Are you hurt, Russ?"
"No'm—that is, not very much. I—I fell out of the hammock."
"Yes, I see you did. What made you? Did you swing too high? I've told you not to do that."
"What does it all mean?" asked Daddy Bunker, while Grandpa Ford looked on. "Were you trying to do some circus tricks in the hammock, Russ?"