, nor Cousin Tom
nor his wife, nor any of the other little Bunkers had heard the cries of
Mun Bun and Margy.

But as the motor-boat went puffing up to the little wharf the noise it
made was heard by Mr. and Mrs. Bunker, who ran down from the cottage to
see it, as they wanted to buy a fresh lobster and they had been told
that Mr. Burnett might soon come back from having gone to lift his pots.

"Well, I had pretty good luck to-day," said the old fisherman, as he
stopped his boat at the pier, and pointed to Margy and Mun Bun. "See
what I caught!"

"Margy!" cried her mother, in great surprise.

"Mun Bun!" exclaimed the little boy's father.

"Did you go out in a boat again?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"Oh, no'm, we didn't do that!" said Mun Bun quickly.

"We just waded over to the little island," said Margy. "But somebody
poured water in the river, and it got high and we couldn't wade back
again."

"They were marooned in the middle of Clam River for a fact! That's what
they were!" said Mr. Burnett. "But I heard 'em yell, and I took 'em off.
Here they are."

"You must never wade out like that again," said the father of Mun Bun
and Margy. "This river isn't like ours at home. An island there is
always an island, unless floods come, and you know about them. There is
a tide here twice a day and what may seem a safe bit of sand on which to
play at one time may be covered with water at another. So don't go
wading unless you ask your mother or me first."

"We won't," promised Mun Bun and Margy.

Then Mr. Bunker thanked Mr. Burnett and after the lobster had been
bought the fisherman puffed away in his boat, waving a good-bye to the
children he had saved from being marooned on the island.

Mun Bun and Margy had to tell their story over again several times and
they had to answer many questions from their brothers and sisters, about
how they felt when they saw the water coming up.

Of course the two smallest of the six little Bunkers had been in some
danger, though if Mr. Burnett had not seen them and rescued them, some
one else might have done so. But it taught all the little Bunkers a
lesson about the dangers of the rising tide, and if any of you ever go
to the seashore I hope you will be careful. If you live at the shore, of
course you know about the tides.

As the August days went on, the children played in the sand and had many
good times. Often they would pretend to be digging for gold, as they had
heard Sammie Brown te