ry, which was in the
basement of Aunt Jo's big house.

A little while after this Parker, on going into the kitchen over the
laundry, heard a voice crying:

"Oh, I can't get out! I can't get out! I'm stuck in and I can't get
out."

"For land sakes! Who are you, and what has happened?" cried the
frightened cook. "It's one of the six little Bunkers, I know," she went
on, "but what happened?"

"Oh, I went to take a ride," said Margy, "and now I can't get out! Oh,
dear!"

And her voice seemed to come from afar.

CHAPTER XIII

MUN BUN DRIVES AWAY

Parker was a good cook, but she did not know much about children. She
liked them though, and was kind to them. So when she heard Margy's voice
calling, she could not imagine what had happened, nor did she know what
to do.

If it had been Mrs. Bunker, or even Daddy Bunker, they would have at
once found out what the matter was. But then they were used to things
happening to children.

"Oh, where are you?" cried Parker, as Margy kept on screaming.

"I don't know what you call it, but I'm in it," said the little girl, in
that queer, faraway voice.

"But where is it?" asked Parker, for, somehow, the voice seemed to come
from somewhere between the laundry and the kitchen.

"It's that thing you pull up and down with soap and starch and clothes
on," said Margy. "I got in it to have a ride, but my leg is stuck and I
can't get out and, oh, dear! I want my mother!"

"Yes, and I guess I want her, too!" exclaimed Parker. "Oh, my! This is
worse than having the chimney on fire. I'll go and call your mother,
child," she went on, "for I can't see a blessed hair of your head.
Though you must be somewhere around, and maybe hiding to fool me."

"Oh, no, I'm not hiding," answered Margy, who, it seems, could hear
Parker very well. "I'm in the pull-up-and-let-down-thing, and I want to
get out!"

But Parker did not stay to listen. She ran out to the side porch, where
Aunt Jo and Mrs. Bunker were sewing, and cried:

"Oh, come quick! The poor child's caught and can't get out and I can't
see her!"

"Where is she? What happened?" asked Aunt Jo and Mrs. Bunker.

"She's somewhere between the laundry and the kitchen," said the maid. "I
can't see her, though I can hear her and----"

Mrs. Bunker and her sister-in-law did not stop to listen to any more. To
the kitchen they hurried, and there they, too, heard the voice of Margy
crying:

"Take me out! Take me out! I'm in the pulle