“Oh, I guess not,” answered Sammie.  “I have heard that salt water keeps hair from falling out.  Anyway, if there’s any danger of such a thing, Percival, the old circus dog, doesn’t need to hold the bag of salt in the water when we go in bathing.”

“That’s so,” agreed Susie, and just then along came Uncle Wiggily Longears, the old gentleman rabbit, and he was eating some peppermint-flavored cabbage, and he gave Sammie and Susie some.

Well, it wasn’t very many days after this before Sammie asked his mamma if he couldn’t go over and play with Buddy Pigg, and, as Sammie had been a very good rabbit boy lately, his mother allowed him to go.

“I am so glad you came, Sammie,” said Buddy, “what shall we do, go in bathing, or build a sand house?”

“Let’s do both,” answered Sammie.  So first he and Buddy went in bathing and, for fear the salt water would make the red color fade out of Sammie’s eyes, Percival didn’t hold the bag of salt in the pond when he made the waves.  Sammie and Buddy had a good time splashing around, and then they built a sand house.  But they took care to make it strong enough so that it would not cave in.  They played together for a long time and then Buddy asked:  “What shall we do next?”

“I know,” replied Sammie, as he looked at the pond of water which was sparkling in the sun, “let’s play soldier, and we’ll make a plank bridge across the pond and run over it and have lots of fun.”

“All right,” agreed Buddy, “come on, and help me lift the plank.”  So they placed a long board across one end of the pond, where it was quite deep, and began to play soldier, while Percival went to sleep in the shade.

Buddy got a tin can, and tied it around his neck with a string.  That was for the drum, and when he beat upon the tin can with two sticks, believe me, it did sound just like a drum in the army, when the soldiers beat it softly.

Then Sammie got a long stick, pretending it was a gun, and the two of them marched around and around, and sideways, and up and down, and through the middle, and across the plank, and back again, several times.  Then, Sammie would fire the gun, yelling, “Boom-Boom!” as loudly as he could, and shooting maybe a dozen bad Indians or pirates or robbers, or maybe more, for all I know, and Buddy would beat on the drum louder than ever, and he would cry: 

“Charge!  Charge on the enemy!  Hurrah!  Hurrah!  The victory is ours!” and he would wave a flag he had made out of a piece of white cloth, red flannel and a bit of Brighteyes’ blue hair ribbon, that she had lost.

Oh, it wag great fun, I tell you!  But the best of all was rushing across the plank over the deep part of the pond, for then it sounded exactly as if horses and cannon were coming over the bridge, and the plank teetered and tautered up and down, and sometimes Buddy and Sammie almost fell off.  But they didn’t mind this; they only thought it all the more fun.