Wandering through the woods,
without knowing where you are
going or what adventure you are
about to meet next, is not as
pleasant as one might think.
The woods are always beautiful
and impressive, and if you are
not worried or hungry you may
enjoy them immensely; but Dorothy
was worried and hungry that morning,
so she paid little attention
to the beauties of the forest,
and hurried along as fast as
she could go. She tried to keep
in one direction and not circle
around, but she was not at all
sure that the direction she had
chosen would lead her to the
camp.
By and by, to her great joy,
she came upon a path. It ran
to the right and to the left,
being lost in the trees in both
directions, and just before her,
upon a big oak, were fastened
two signs, with arms pointing
both ways. One sign read:
TAKE THE OTHER ROAD TO BUNBURY
and the second sign read:
TAKE THE OTHER ROAD TO BUNNYBURY
"Well!" exclaimed Billina,
eyeing the signs, "this looks
as if we were getting back to
civilization again."
"I'm not sure about the civil'zation,
dear," replied the little girl; "but
it looks as if we might get SOMEWHERE,
and that's a big relief, anyhow."
"Which path shall we take?" inquired
the Yellow Hen.
Dorothy stared at the signs
thoughtfully.
"Bunbury sounds like something
to eat," she said. "Let's go
there."
"It's all the same to me," replied
Billina. She had picked up enough
bugs and insects from the moss
as she went along to satisfy
her own hunger, but the hen knew
Dorothy could not eat bugs; nor
could Toto.
The path to Bunbury seemed
little traveled, but it was distinct
enough and ran through the trees
in a zigzag course until it finally
led them to an open space filled
with the queerest houses Dorothy
had ever seen. They were all
made of crackers laid out in
tiny squares, and were of many
pretty and ornamental shapes,
having balconies and porches
with posts of bread-sticks and
roofs shingled with wafer-crackers.
There were walks of bread-crusts
leading from house to house and
forming streets, and the place
seemed to have many inhabitants.
When Dorothy, followed by Billina
and Toto, entered the place,
they found people walking the
streets or assembled in groups
talking together, or sitting
upon the porches and balconies.
And what funny people they
were!
Men, women and children were
all made of buns and bread. Some
were thin and others fat; some
were white, some light brown
and some very dark of complexion.
A few of the buns, which seemed
to form the more important class
of the people, were neatly frosted.
Some had raisins for eyes and
currant buttons on their clothes;
others had eyes of cloves and
legs of stick cinnamon, and many
wore hats and bonnets frosted
pink and green.
There was something of a commotion
in Bunbury when the strangers
suddenly appeared among them.
Women caught up their children
and hurried into their houses,
shutting the cracker doors carefully
behind them. Some men ran so
hastily that they tumbled over
one another, while others, more
brave, assembled in a group and
faced the intruders defiantly.
Dorothy at once realized that
she must act with caution in
order not to frighten these shy
people, who were evidently unused
to the presence of strangers.
There was a delightful fragrant
odor of fresh bread in the town,
and this made the little girl
more hungry than ever. She told
Toto and Billina to stay back
while she slowly advanced toward
the group that stood silently
awaiting her.
"You must 'scuse me for coming
unexpected," she said, softly, "but
I really didn't know I was coming
here until I arrived. I was lost
in the woods, you know, and I'm
as hungry as anything."
"Hungry!" they
murmured, in a horrified chorus.
"Yes; I haven't had anything
to eat since last night's supper," she
exclaimed. "Are there any eatables
in Bunbury?"
They looked at one another
undecidedly, and then one portly
bun man, who seemed a person
of consequence, stepped forward
and said:
"Little girl,
to be frank with you, we are
all eatables. Everything
in Bunbury is eatable to ravenous
human creatures like you. But
it is to escape being eaten and
destroyed that we have secluded
ourselves in this out-of-the-way
place, and there is neither right
nor justice in your coming here
to feed upon us."
Dorothy looked at him longingly.
"You're bread, aren't you?" she
asked.
"Yes; bread
and butter. The butter is inside
me, so it won't
melt and run. I do the running
myself."
At this joke all the others
burst into a chorus of laughter,
and Dorothy thought they couldn't
be much afraid if they could
laugh like that.
"Couldn't I eat something besides
people?" she asked. "Couldn't
I eat just one house, or a side-walk
or something? I wouldn't mind
much what it was, you know."
"This is not a public bakery,
child," replied the man, sternly. "It's
private property."
"I know Mr.--Mr.--"
"My name is C. Bunn, Esquire," said
the man. "'C' stands for Cinnamon,
and this place is called after
my family, which is the most
aristocratic in the town."
"Oh, I don't know about that," objected
another of the queer people. "The
Grahams and the Browns and Whites
are all excellent families, and
there is none better of their
kind. I'm a Boston Brown, myself."
"I admit you are all desirable
citizens," said Mr. Bunn rather
stiffly; "but the fact remains
that our town is called Bunbury."
"'Scuse me," interrupted Dorothy; "but
I'm getting hungrier every minute.
Now, if you're polite and kind,
as I'm sure you ought to be,
you'll let me eat SOMETHING.
There's so much to eat here that
you will never miss it."
Then a big, puffed-up man,
of a delicate brown color, stepped
forward and said:
"I think it
would be a shame to send this
child away hungry,
especially as she agrees to eat
whatever we can spare and not
touch our people."
"So do I, Pop," replied
a Roll who stood near.
"What, then, do you suggest,
Mr. Over?" inquired Mr. Bunn.
"Why, I'll
let her eat my back fence,
if she wants to. It's
made of waffles, and they're
very crisp and nice."
"She may also eat my wheelbarrow," added
a pleasant looking Muffin. "It's
made of nabiscos with a zuzu
wheel."
"Very good; very good," remarked
Mr. Bunn. "That is certainly
very kind of you. Go with Pop
Over and Mr. Muffin, little girl,
and they will feed you."
"Thank you very much," said
Dorothy, gratefully. "May I bring
my dog Toto, and the Yellow Hen?
They're hungry, too."
"Will you make them behave?" asked
the Muffin.
"Of course," promised
Dorothy.
"Then come along," said
Pop Over.
So Dorothy and Billina and
Toto walked up the street and
the people seemed no longer to
be at all afraid of them. Mr.
Muffin's house came first, and
as his wheelbarrow stood in the
front yard the little girl ate
that first. It didn't seem very
fresh, but she was so hungry
that she was not particular.
Toto ate some, too, while Billina
picked up the crumbs.
While the strangers were engaged
in eating, many of the people
came and stood in the street
curiously watching them. Dorothy
noticed six roguish looking brown
children standing all in a row,
and she asked:
"Who are you,
little ones?"
"We're the Graham Gems," replied
one; "and we're all twins."
"I wonder if your mother could
spare one or two of you?" asked
Billina, who decided that they
were fresh baked; but at this
dangerous question the six little
gems ran away as fast as they
could go.
"You musn't say such things,
Billina," said Dorothy, reprovingly. "Now
let's go into Pop Over's back
yard and get the waffles."
"I sort of hate to let that
fence go," remarked Mr. Over,
nervously, as they walked toward
his house. "The neighbors back
of us are Soda Biscuits, and
I don't care to mix with them."
"But I'm hungry yet," declared
the girl. "That wheelbarrow wasn't
very big."
"I've got a shortcake piano,
but none of my family can play
on it," he said, reflectively. "Suppose
you eat that."
"All right," said Dorothy; "I
don't mind. Anything to be accommodating."
So Mr. Over led her into the
house, where she ate the piano,
which was of an excellent flavor.
"Is there anything to drink
here?" she asked.
"Yes; I've a milk pump and
a water pump; which will you
have?" he asked.
"I guess I'll try 'em both," said
Dorothy.
So Mr. Over called to his wife,
who brought into the yard a pail
made of some kind of baked dough,
and Dorothy pumped the pail full
of cool, sweet milk and drank
it eagerly.
The wife of Pop Over was several
shades darker than her husband.
"Aren't you overdone?" the
little girl asked her.
"No indeed," answered the woman. "I'm
neither overdone nor done over;
I'm just Mrs. Over, and I'm the
President of the Bunbury Breakfast
Band."
Dorothy thanked
them for their hospitality
and went away. At
the gate Mr. Cinnamon Bunn met
her and said he would show her
around the town. "We have some
very interesting inhabitants," he
remarked, walking stiffly beside
her on his stick-cinnamon legs; "and
all of us who are in good health
are well bred. If you are no
longer hungry we will call upon
a few of the most important citizens."
Toto and Billina followed behind
them, behaving very well, and
a little way down the street
they came to a handsome residence
where Aunt Sally Lunn lived.
The old lady was glad to meet
the little girl and gave her
a slice of white bread and butter
which had been used as a door-mat.
It was almost fresh and tasted
better than anything Dorothy
had eaten in the town.
"Where do you get the butter?" she
inquired.
"We dig it out of the ground,
which, as you may have observed,
is all flour and meal," replied
Mr. Bunn. "There is a butter
mine just at the opposite side
of the village. The trees which
you see here are all doughleanders
and doughderas, and in the season
we get quite a crop of dough-nuts
off them."
"I should think the flour would
blow around and get into your
eyes," said Dorothy.
"No," said he; "we
are bothered with cracker dust
sometimes,
but never with flour."
Then he took her to see Johnny
Cake, a cheerful old gentleman
who lived near by.
"I suppose you've heard of
me," said old Johnny, with an
air of pride. "I'm a great favorite
all over the world."
"Aren't you rather yellow?" asked
Dorothy, looking at him critically.
"Maybe, child. But don't think
I'm bilious, for I was never
in better health in my life," replied
the old gentleman. "If anything
ailed me, I'd willingly acknowledge
the corn."
"Johnny's a trifle stale," said
Mr. Bunn, as they went away; "but
he's a good mixer and never gets
cross-grained. I will now take
you to call upon some of my own
relatives." They visited the
Sugar Bunns, the Currant Bunns
and the Spanish Bunns, the latter
having a decidedly foreign appearance.
Then they saw the French Rolls,
who were very polite to them,
and made a brief call upon the
Parker H. Rolls, who seemed a
bit proud and overbearing.
"But they're not as stuck up
as the Frosted Jumbles," declared
Mr. Bunn, "who are people I really
can't abide. I don't like to
be suspicious or talk scandal,
but sometimes I think the Jumbles
have too much baking powder in
them."
Just then a dreadful scream
was heard, and Dorothy turned
hastily around to find a scene
of great excitement a little
way down the street. The people
were crowding around Toto and
throwing at him everything they
could find at hand. They pelted
the little dog with hard-tack,
crackers, and even articles of
furniture which were hard baked
and heavy enough for missiles.
Toto howeled a little as the
assortment of bake stuff struck
him; but he stood still, with
head bowed and tail between his
legs, until Dorothy ran up and
inquired what the matter was.
"Matter!" cried a rye loafer,
indignantly, "why the horrid
beast has eaten three of our
dear Crumpets, and is now devouring
a Salt-rising Biscuit!"
"Oh, Toto! How could you?" exclaimed
Dorothy, much distressed.
Toto's mouth was full of his
salt-rising victim; so he only
whined and wagged his tail. But
Billina, who had flown to the
top of a cracker house to be
in a safe place, called out:
"Don't blame
him, Dorothy; the Crumpets
dared him to do
it."
"Yes, and you pecked out the
eyes of a Raisin Bunn--one of
our best citizens!" shouted a
bread pudding, shaking its fist
at the Yellow Hen.
"What's that! What's that?" wailed
Mr. Cinnamon Bunn, who had now
joined them. "Oh, what a misfortune--what
a terrible misfortune!"
"See here," said Dorothy, determined
to defend her pets, "I think
we've treated you all pretty
well, seeing you're eatables
an' reg'lar food for us. I've
been kind to you and eaten your
old wheelbarrows and pianos and
rubbish, an' not said a word.
But Toto and Billina can't be
'spected to go hungry when the
town's full of good things they
like to eat, 'cause they can't
understand your stingy ways as
I do."
"You must leave here at once!" said
Mr. Bunn, sternly.
"Suppose we won't go?" said
Dorothy, who was now much provoked.
"Then," said he, "we
will put you into the great
ovens where
we are made, and bake you."
Dorothy gazed around and saw
threatening looks upon the faces
of all. She had not noticed any
ovens in the town, but they might
be there, nevertheless, for some
of the inhabitants seemed very
fresh. So she decided to go,
and calling to Toto and Billina
to follow her she marched up
the street with as much dignity
as possible, considering that
she was followed by the hoots
and cries of the buns and biscuits
and other bake stuff.
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