ng, Russ felt he had to go up those
stairs to the aid of the shrieking Vi and Mun Bun. They were both caught
under some of the fallen rubbish, and it was Russ Bunker's duty, if
nothing more, to aid the younger children.

Russ did not often shirk his duty. Being the oldest of the six Bunker
children, he felt his responsibility more than other boys of his age
might have done. Anyway, when the others needed help, Russ's first
thought was to aid. He was that kind of boy, as all the readers of this
series of stories know very well.

Almost always Russ Bunker was not far from a set of carpenter's tools,
of which he was very proud, or from other means of "making things." His
brothers and sisters thought him quite wonderful when it came to
planning new means of amusement and building such things as play
automobiles and boats and steam-car trains. It was quite impossible for
Russ now, however, to think up any invention that would help his small
sister and brother out of their trouble in the attic of the old house.
He was quite helpless.

Nine-year-old Russ Bunker was an inventive, cheerful lad, almost always
with a merry whistle on his lips, and quite faithful to the trust his
parents imposed in him regarding the well-being of his younger brothers
and sisters.

With Rose, who was a year younger than Russ, the boy really took much of
the care in the daytime of the other little Bunkers. The older ones
really had to do this--or else there would have been no fun for any of
them. You see, if the older children in a family will not care for the
younger, and cheerfully look after them, there can never be so much
freedom and fun to enjoy as these six little Bunkers had.

Rose was a particularly helpful little girl, and, being eight years old
now, she could assist Mother Bunker a good deal; and she took pride in
so doing. That she was afraid of "thunder strokes" must not be counted
against her. Ordinarily she made the best of everything and was of a
sunny nature.

The twins, Violet and Fillmore, came next in the group of little
Bunkers. These two had their own individual natures and could never be
overlooked for long in any party. Violet was much given to asking
questions, and she asked so many and steadily that scarcely anybody
troubled to answer her. Her twin, called Laddie by all, had early made
up his mind that the greatest fun in the world was asking and answering
riddles.

Margy's real name was Margaret, and, as we have se