“Nobody can guess what I have in my mouth!”

“Is that a riddle, Laddie?” asked Russ.  For Laddie was the name of the gray-eyed and curly-haired boy, and he was very fond of asking puzzle-questions.  “Is it a riddle?” Russ repeated.

“Sort of,” admitted Laddie.  “Who can guess what I have in my mouth?”

“Oh, it’s candy!” cried Violet, as she saw one of her brother’s cheeks puffed out.  “It’s candy!  Give me some, Laddie!”

“Nope.  ’Tisn’t candy!” he cried.  “You must guess again!”

Nothing pleased Laddie more than to make his brothers and sisters guess his riddles.

“Is it a piece of cake?” asked Mun Bun.

“Nope!”

“Then ’tis so candy!” insisted Violet.  And then, seeing her mother coming down the side porch, she cried:  “Mother, make Laddie give me some of his candy!  He’s got a big piece in his mouth, and he won’t give me any!”

“I haven’t any candy!” declared Laddie.  “I only asked her if she could guess what I had.”

“’Tis so candy!” insisted Violet again.

“No, ’tisn’t!” disputed Laddie.

“Children!  Children!” said Mrs. Bunker softly.  “I don’t like my six little toadikins to talk this way.  Where’s Margy?” she asked as she “counted noses,” which she called looking about to see if all six of the children were present.

“Margy’s gone to get some cakes, ’cause we’re going to have a soap-bubble party,” explained Russ.

“What makes so many pretty colors come in the bubbles, Mother?” asked Violet.

“It is the light shining through, just as the sun shines through the water in the sky after the rain, making the rainbow.”

“Oh,” said Violet.  She didn’t understand very well about it, but her question had been answered, anyhow.  “And now what’s Laddie got in his mouth?” she went on.  “Make him give me some, Mother!”

“I can’t, ’cause it’s only my tongue, and I can’t take it out!” laughed Laddie, and he showed how he had thrust his tongue to one side, bulging out his cheek, so it really did look as though he had a piece of candy in his mouth.

“That’s the time I fooled you with a riddle!” he said to Violet.  “It was only my tongue!”

“I don’t care!  When I get some real candy I won’t give you any!” cried Violet.

“Here comes Margy with the cakes!” exclaimed Rose.  “Now we’ll have the soap-bubble party.”

“But don’t get any soap on your cake, or it won’t taste nice,” warned Mother Bunker.  “Now play nicely.  Has the postman been past yet?”

“Not yet, Mother,” answered Russ.  “Do you think he is going to bring you a letter?”

“He may, yes.”

“Will it be a letter asking us to come some other place to have a good time for the rest of the summer?” Rose wanted to know.  For the six little Bunkers were paying a visit to Aunt Jo in Boston, and expected to leave shortly.

“I don’t know just what kind of letter I shall get,” said Mrs. Bunker with a smile, “but I hope it will be a nice one.  Now have your party, and see who can blow the largest bubbles.”