As the hay was loaded on the wagon, which was fitted with a rick, going over the wheels, the pile of dried grass on the vehicle became higher and higher. So high it was, at last, that the men could hardly pitch hay up on it. “I guess we’ll call this a load,” said Farmer Joel, as he looked up at the sky. “The road is a bit rough and if we put on too much we’ll have an upset. Adam, I think you’re right,” he went on. “We’ll have thunder showers this afternoon. Have to hustle, boys, to get the hay in!” When the horses were ready to haul the first load back to the barn, to be stored away in the mow, the six little Bunkers were put up on top of the load to ride. “Oh, this is lovely!” cried Rose. “Like being on a hundred feather beds!” added Russ. “And you don’t feel the jounces at all!” added Laddie, for as the wagon went over rough places in the field the children were only gently bounced up and down, and not shaken about as they would have been had there been no hay on the wagon. But the rough field caused one little accident which, however, harmed no one. The first load of hay was almost out of the field when, as it approached the bars, Mun Bun suddenly yelled: “I’m slippin’! I’m slippin’!” And Margy followed with a like cry. “Oh, I’m fallin’ off!” she shouted. And, surely enough, Russ and Rose also felt the top of the load of hay beginning to slip to one side. Adam North was riding with the children, Farmer Joel and Daddy Bunker having remained in the field, while one hired man drove the team of horses. “I guess they didn’t load this hay evenly,” said Adam. “Part of it is going to slip off. But don’t be frightened, children,” he said kindly. “You can’t get hurt falling with a load of hay.” Just as Adam finished speaking part of the top of the load slid off the wagon and fell into the field, and with it fell the six little Bunkers and Adam himself. “Oh! Oh!” screamed Margy and Mun Bun. “Keep still!” ordered Russ. “You won’t get hurt!” “Look out for the pitchforks—they’re sharp!” warned Rose. Laddie and Violet laughed with glee as they felt themselves sliding. Down in a heap went the hay, the six little Bunkers and Adam. The hay was so soft it was like falling in a bed of feathers. The man sitting in front to drive the horses did not slide off. “All over! No damage!” cried Adam, with a laugh, as he leaped up and picked the smallest of the little Bunkers from the pile of hay. “But we’ll have to load the hay back on the wagon.” This was soon done, and once more the merry party started for the barn, which was reached without further accident. Farmer Joel had many things on his place to save work. Among these was a hay fork which could pick up almost half a load of hay at once and raise it to the mow. A hay fork, at least one kind, looks like a big letter U turned upside down. The two arms are made of iron, and from their lower ends prongs come out to hold the hay from slipping off the arms.