“It’s a good thing the sand didn’t slide in on you and cover your head,” said Mrs. Bunker.  “How did it happen, Russ?”

“Well, we were digging a sand house—­it was just a hole in the sand, you know,” the little boy explained.  “We were going to put some sticks across the top, when we got it deep enough to stand up in, and put some seaweed over the sticks for a roof.  I saw some boys on the beach make a sand house like that yesterday.

“But after we dug down a way,” he went on, “Rose got down in the hole so she could dig better.  She scooped the sand up to me and I put it in a heap on the beach.  And then, all of a sudden, a lot of the sand slid in on Rose and she was held fast and—­and——­”

“And I couldn’t get out, but I tried like anything!” added Rose, as her brother stopped for breath.  “And then Russ screamed for you and—­and—­Oh, I’m so glad you came!” and Rose leaned her head against her mother, who was busy digging out the sand with the clam shell.

“I’m glad I came, too, my dear,” said Mrs. Bunker.  “After this don’t dig such deep sand holes, or, if you do, don’t get into them.  Sand, you know, is not like other dirt.  It doesn’t stay in one place, but slips and slides about.”

“But we want to have something to play in!” exclaimed Russ.

“Well, we want you to have fun while you are here at Cousin Tom’s, but we don’t want you to get hurt,” said Mrs. Bunker.  “Can’t you make a little playhouse of the driftwood on the beach?  That would be nicer to play in than a damp hole.”

“Oh, yes, we could do that!” cried Rose.  “Let’s make a wooden house on the beach, Russ!  There’s lots of wood!”

“And then we can play pirates!” added the little boy.

A little later Rose had been dug out of the sand, and though her dress was a little damp, for the sand, as one dug down into it, was rather wet, she was not hurt.

All along the sands at Seaview, after high tide, were bits of planks and boards and chips, and after Rose had been dug out of the sand house she and Russ began gathering all the wood they could pick up to make what Russ said would be a “pirate bungalow.”

Mrs. Bunker, after telling the children once more not to dig deep holes, left them on the beach to play, herself going back to Cousin Tom’s bungalow.

Margy and Mun Bun, who had been gathering shells and stones down on the sand, had come up to play in front of the house, on a bit of green lawn.  Laddie and Vi, who had walked up and down the beach, looking for some starfish, which they did not find, came to where Russ and Rose were getting ready to play.

“What are you making?” asked Laddie.

“A pirate bungalow,” answered Russ.  “Want to help?”

“Yep,” answered Laddie.

“And I will, too,” said Vi.  “What are you going to put in it?  Will it be big enough for all of us, and what makes so much wood here, Russ?”