s horse was old and thin
and tired and hungry. That's what made him go slowly, so Mun Bun was not
rattled off the seat. He was only a little fellow, and it would not have
taken much of a jolt of the wagon to have tossed him off. But as long as
the wagon went slowly he was all right.

"Gid-dap!" cried Mun Bun in a jolly voice, and he pulled on the reins,
thinking what fun it was really to drive, and not make-believe, as he
and the others had done with Alexis.

All this while the junkman was in Aunt Jo's yard, talking with William
about the old rags and papers the chauffeur had to sell. The five other
little Bunkers were playing at different games, Daddy Bunker was
downtown, and Aunt Jo and Mother Bunker were busy at something or other,
I've forgotten just what.

So there was no one in particular to see what Mun Bun was doing, and he
was just having the grandest time, all by himself, driving the poor,
thin horse. Of course he wasn't really driving it. The horse just went
along as it always did, as slowly as it could, and, very likely, it
didn't know, or care, whether Mun Bun was driving it, or the junkman.

"Gid-dap!" cried the little fellow again, and he pulled on the reins.
And then a funny thing happened. He pulled a little harder on the left
rein than on the right, and, just as the animal had been used to doing
whenever this happened, the horse turned to the left, and went down a
side street.

Mun Bun didn't mind this. He didn't care which way the horse went as
long as he was having a ride and was doing the driving. Down the side
street went the junk wagon, with Mun Bun on it. He was now out of sight
of any one who might be looking from Aunt Jo's yard.

The little fellow was halfway down the new block when a woman, looking
from the window of her house, saw the bony horse and the old rattly,
rickety wagon.

"Oh, there's a junkman!" she cried. "I've been looking for one a long
time to take the papers out of the cellar. There's a junkman!"

"No, it's a junk boy," said the woman's cook, who happened to be with
her. "There's no one but a little boy on the wagon."

"Well, maybe it's the junkman's little boy," said the woman. "They let
them drive when they go in after the junk. Run after him, Jane, and stop
him. I want to get the trash cleaned out of the cellar."

So the cook ran quickly to the front door and cried:

"Hey! Junk boy! Stop! We got some papers for you!"

Mun Bun heard, and turned around.

"I isn