estions, indeed,
that it was often impossible for her elders to answer them all; and
certainly Rose and Russ Bunker, who were putting together a "cut-up"
puzzle on the table, could not be bothered by Vi's insistence.

"I don't see how he could have got the croup that way," repeated the
smaller girl. There were six of the little Bunkers, and Vi and Laddie
were twins. She said to Laddie, who was looking on at the puzzle making:
"Do you know how William did it, Laddie?"

Laddie, whose real name wasn't "Laddie" at all, but Fillmore Bunker,
shook his head decidedly.

"I don't know," he told his twin sister. "Not unless it is a riddle:
'How did William get the croup?'"

"He hasn't got the croup," put in Rose, for just a moment giving the
twins her attention.

"Why--ee!" cried Vi. "Aunt Jo said he had!"

"She didn't," returned Rose rather shortly and not at all politely.

"She did so!" rejoined Vi instantly, for although she and Rose loved
each other very much they were not always in agreement. Vi's gray eyes
snapped she was so vexed. "Aunt Jo said that a window got broke in--in
the neu-ral-gi-a and William had to drive a long way yesterday and the
wind blew on him and he got the croup."

"Was that the way of it?" said Laddie, thoughtfully. "Wait a minute, Vi.
I've most got it----"

"You're not going to have the croup!" declared his twin. "You never had
it! But I have had the croup, and I didn't catch it the way William
did."

"No-o," admitted Laddie. "But--but I'm catching a new riddle if you'd
only wait a minute for me to get it straight."

"Pooh!" said Vi. "Who cares anything about your old riddle? Br-r-r! it's
cold in this room. Maybe we'll all get the croup if we can't have a
better fire."

"It isn't the croup you mean, Vi," put in Rose again, but without
stopping to explain to her smaller sister where and how she was wrong
about William's illness.

"Say, Russ, why don't the steampipes hum any more?" broke in the voice
of Margy, the next to the very littlest Bunker, who was playing with
that latter very important person at one of the great windows
overlooking the street.

Russ chuckled. He had just put the very last crooked piece of the puzzle
into place.

"You don't expect to see humming birds in winter, do you, Margy?" he
asked.

"Just the same, winter is the time for steampipes to hum," said Rose,
shivering a little. "Oh! See! It's beginning to snow!"

"So 'tis," cried Russ, who was the oldest o