“I don’t mind traveling in the snow, but I don’t like it in the rain,” said Mother Bunker.  “And we must expect snow, as it will soon be winter.”

The six little Bunkers amused themselves in different ways in the car, as the train puffed on, over hills and through valleys, to Grandpa Ford’s home at Great Hedge.  As Daddy Bunker had said, the clouds were gathering, and they seemed to hold snow, which might soon come down with a flurry.

“But it can’t hurt us,” said Mun Bun, “’cause we’re in the train.”

“I have a new riddle,” announced Laddie, after a while.

“Have you?” asked Grandpa Ford.  “Well, let’s hear it.  I’ll try to guess it.”

“Why is a train like a boy?” asked the little fellow.

“That’s a funny riddle!” exclaimed Russ.  “A train isn’t like a boy at all.  It’s too big and it isn’t alive.”

“Well, it goes,” said Laddie; “and anything that goes is almost alive, anyhow.”

“Is that why you made a riddle about a train and boy?” asked Grandpa Ford.  “A train is like a boy because it goes.  Is that it, Laddie?”

“Nope!  It’s ’cause a train can whistle and so can a boy,” said the little chap with a laugh.  “Isn’t that a good riddle?”

“A train doesn’t whistle,” declared Russ.  “It’s only the engine that whistles.  Isn’t that so, Grandpa?”

“Well, the engine whistles, of course.  But the engine is the main part of the train.  If it wasn’t for the engine there wouldn’t be any train, so I guess Laddie’s riddle is all right there.  A train-engine is like a boy, because it whistles.  There it goes now.”

As he spoke the engine gave several loud, shrill blasts.

“What makes it do that?” asked Violet.  “What makes the engine whistle?  Was it ’cause Laddie asked that riddle?”

“You children will make Grandpa Ford sleepy with your questions and riddles,” observed Mrs. Bunker to Laddie and Violet.  “Please be quiet now, and let him rest.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” said the old gentleman.  “I love the children, and I like Laddie’s riddles and Vi’s questions.  Only don’t ask me such hard ones that I can’t answer,” he went on.

Margy was in the seat with her mother, playing with one of the Japanese dolls that had come ashore on the beach at Cousin Tom’s, as I have told you in the book just before this one.

“My doll wants a drink,” suddenly announced the little girl.  “She’s awful thirsty.”

“You probably mean you are,” laughed her mother.  “Rose, will you take Margy to the water tank and get her a drink?  Be careful, and hold on to the arms of the seats so you don’t fall down.  It isn’t far.”

“I wants a drink, too,” announced Mun Bun.  “I’m going to drink it myself, too,” he announced, “and not give it to any doll.”

“Well, Rose can take both of you,” said Mrs. Bunker.  Rose was a real “mother’s helper,” and often looked after the two smaller children in such things as getting them drinks of water.  The tank was at the end of the car, not far from where the Bunkers were sitting.