Six Little Bunkers at Grandma Bell's

his own mouth.

"Why not?" asked Vi.

"'Cause there's so much red here. He wouldn't like it at all."

"Oh, I think he wouldn't mind strawberries," said Grandma Bell with a
laugh. "However, the next time we won't go through the ram's meadow. We
can go back another way. Now let's see who will get the most berries.
We'll take some home to Daddy Bunker!"

The children had lots of fun on the warm, sunny hillside, picking the
sweet, red, wild strawberries, but if Daddy Bunker had had to depend on
the six little Bunkers to bring him home some of the fruit he would have
got very few berries, I'm afraid. For the children ate more than they
picked. But then, one could hardly blame them, as the strawberries were
good.

However, Grandma Bell and Mother Bunker saved some for daddy, so he had a
chance to taste them, and he ate them at supper that night as he listened
to the story of the ram and Margy's red coat.

The next day, as Laddie, Russ and Rose were out in front of Grandma Bell's
house, playing under the trees, they saw a farmer going down the road with
a box under his arm.

"Do you suppose he's going after strawberries?" asked Rose.

"If he is we'd better tell him to look out for the old ram," remarked
Laddie.

"I will," said Russ. And then he called out loudly:

"Hey, Mr. Parker!" for that was the farmer's name. "Hey, Mr. Parker,
you'd better look out!"

"Look out for what?"

"For the old ram. He chased my grandma and my sister Margy yesterday,"
went on Russ. "But Margy had a red coat on."

"Well, I haven't anything red on," the farmer said with a laugh. "But I'm
much obliged to you for telling me. And, as it happens, I'm going right
where that old ram is."

"Oh, aren't you 'fraid?" asked Laddie.

"No," answered the farmer. "The ram will be glad to see me. You see, I'm
taking him and the sheep some salt," and he showed the children that he
had salt in the box under his arm. "I'm going to give my cattle some
salt," went on the farmer, "and Mr. Hixon, who owns the shee

Reverend Nehemiah Adams (born February 19, 1806; died October 6, 1878) was an American clergyman and writer. He was born in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1806 to Nehemiah Adams and Mehitabel Torrey Adams. He graduated from Harvard University in 1826, and from Andover Theological Seminary in 1829. He was ordained as co-pastor of First Congregational Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, that same year. In 1832, he married Martha Hooper.

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Joanna Baillie (September 11, 1762February 23, 1851) was a Scottish poet and dramatist. Baillie was very well-known during her lifetime and, though a woman, intended her plays not for the closet but for the stage. Admired both for her literary powers and her sweetness of disposition, her cottage at Hampstead was the centre of a brilliant literary society. Baillie died at the age of 88, her faculties remaining unimpaired to the last.