Bun was on, having a ride, he not
only tipped over, but he ran into a trunk that stood in the attic, and
knocked off one of the skates.

"Now I have to tie it on again!" Russ had exclaimed, and this had caused
a stop in the fun.

"Can you fix it?" asked Margy, as she watched her brother. She wanted
another ride, for the one she had had was a short one. Mun Bun was the
youngest of the six little Bunkers, and they generally let him have more
turns than any one else.

"Oh, yes, I can fix it," said Russ, who now began to whistle. And when
Russ whistled, when he was making anything, you could generally tell
that everything was coming out right.

Russ very often made things, but he did not always whistle over them.
Often the things he made were such a puzzle that he could not think how
to make them come out right and also think of a whistle-tune at the same
time. But now he was all right, and so he whistled merrily as he put
more string on the roller skate that he was fastening to the board of
the scooter.

"Is it almost done?" asked Mun Bun, leaning over eagerly.

"Almost," answered Russ. "I want to look at the back wheels to see if
they're all right, and then you can have a ride."

Russ gave the string a last turn, tied several knots in it, and then
turned the board around. As he did so Margy uttered a cry.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed.

"What's the matter?" asked Russ.

"You banged me with the scooter," answered the little girl.

"Oh, I didn't mean to," said Russ. "I'm sorry! You can have an extra
ride for that." Russ was very kind to his little brothers and sisters.

"It doesn't hurt very much," said Margy, rubbing the elbow that had been
hit when Russ swung the board around.

Russ now bent over the other wheels on the end of the scooter. He found
them a bit loose, as string will stretch and really isn't very good with
which to fasten wheels on. But it was the best Russ could do.

Outside an early spring rain beat against the windows of the attic. It
was cold outside, too, for the last winter snow had, only a week before,
melted from the ground, which was still frozen in places. But it was
nice and warm up in the attic, and there the Bunker children were
having a fine time. The attic, as I have said, was not as big as Grandpa
Ford's, but the children were having a good time, and even a smaller
attic would have answered as well in the rain.

"Now I guess it's all ready for more rides," said Russ, as he put the