"It's a good thing you did," said her mother. "You mustn't come here again. You might get stuck and never get out. Never come here again!"
"Can't we make mud pies in the sand?" asked Mun Bun.
"Yes, but you mustn't hunt for mud turtles. Stay outside the bog fence."
The children promised that they would, and then came the work of washing Mun Bun and Margy. Margy was the easiest to clean, as she only had mud on her up to her knees. She waded in the creek where there was a clean, sandy bottom, and where the water was clear, and soon the mud was washed off her.
"But as for Mun Bun," said his father, "I guess I'll have to put him in the creek, clothes and all, up to his neck, and let the water wash the mud away."
"I guess you'd better," said Mrs. Bunker. "That's the only way to get off the mud."
The day was warm, and so was the water, so Mun Bun was set down in the creek at a clean place, and he and his clothes were washed at the same time. The mud was rinsed from his hands and face and, in time, it came off his feet, legs and clothes.
"It's just like I been in swimming with all my things on!" laughed Mun Bun, as his father lifted him out of the pond.
"Well, don't make any more mud pies right away," his mother told him, and Mun Bun promised not to.
The other little Bunkers laughed when they heard what had happened to Mun Bun.