“She no see—­she no want,” he whispered to Mrs. Bunker.

“I want an orange!” exclaimed Mun Bun, seeing Margy beginning to eat hers.  “I likes oranges!”

“All right, we’ll all have some,” said Mr. Bunker.  It seemed like disappointing the stand-owner to go away without buying some, after all that had gone on at his place of business.

So Mr. Bunker bought a large bag of oranges, telling his wife they could eat them on the boat.  Margy forgot about the kitten, and, being dusted, for she was dirty from her crawl under the stand, the six little Bunkers once more started off.  This time their father and mother watched each one of the boys and girls to see that none of them did anything to cause further delays.  Russ and Rose and Laddie and Violet were not so venturesome this way as were Margy and Mun Bun.

“Now here we are at the dock, and all we have to do is to walk straight out to the end of the pier and get on the boat when it comes,” said Mr. Bunker.  “It is nearly time for it.  I don’t believe anything more can happen.”

And nothing did.  There was a long walk, or platform, elevated at one side of the covered pier, and along this the children hurried with their father and mother.  A whistle sounded out on the Hudson River, which flowed past the far end of the dock.

“Is that our boat?” asked Russ.

“I hope not,” his father answered.  “If it is, we may miss it yet.  But I do not think it is.  There are many boats on the river, and they all have whistles.”

A little later they were in the waiting-room at the end of the dock, where there were a number of other passengers, and soon a big white boat, with the name “Asbury Park” painted on one side, was seen steering toward the dock.

“Here she is!” cried Mr. Bunker, and, a little later, they were all on board and steaming down New York Bay.

They steamed on down past the Statue of Liberty, that gift from the French, past the forts at the Narrows, and so on down the bay.  Off to the left, Daddy Bunker told the children, was Coney Island, where so many persons from New York go on hot days and nights to get cooled off near the ocean.

“Is Seaview like Coney Island?” asked Vi.

“Well, it may be a little like it,” her father answered; “though there will not be so many merry-go-rounds there or other things to make fun for you.  But I think you will have a good time all the same.”

“We’re going to dig for gold, like Sammie Brown’s father,” declared Laddie.  “If we find a lot of it we can buy a ticket for Coney Island.”

“What makes them call it Coney Island?” asked Vi.  “Did they find some coneys there?”

“I don’t know,” her father replied.

“What’s a coney, anyhow?” went on the little girl.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, either,” said Mr. Bunker.  “You’ll have to ask me something else, Vi.”

“Maybe it’s an ice-cream cone they meant,” said Russ, “and they changed it to coney.”