“Oh, well, we can pretend we’ve been shipwrecked,” Bunny said.

“Oh, yes!” and Sue understood now.  “What is the rest of the game?” she asked.

“Well, mother read the story to me out of a book,” explained Bunny.  “Robinson Crusoe was wrecked, and he had to live on this island, and he had a man named Friday.”

“What a funny name!  Who named him that?” asked Sue.

“Robinson Crusoe did.  You see, Friday was a colored man, very nice, too, and he helped Robinson a lot.  Robinson called him that name because he found him on Friday.”

“But this isn’t Friday,” objected Sue.  “It’s Thursday.”

“Well, it’s only pretend,” went on Bunny.

“Oh, yes.  I forgot.  So Robinson had a colored man named Friday to help him,”

“Yes,” Bunny said, “and we’ll play that game.  I’ll be Robinson.”

“But who is going to be Friday?” Sue wanted to know.

“You can be.”

“But I’m not a man, and I’m not colored, Bunny.”

“We’ll have to pretend that, too.  You’ll be my man Friday, and we’ll go to live in the little tent over there,” and Bunny pointed toward the leafy bower he had found.  “And you can be colored, too, if you want, Sue,” he said.  “You could rub some mud on your face and hands.”

“Oh, let’s!  That’s what I’ll do!” and Sue laid aside the stick to which Bunny had tied the fishline and the bent pin.  “That will be fun!” Sue said.  “It will be better than the Punch and Judy show with the lobster claw on your nose.”

“But you mustn’t get your dress muddy,” Bunny cautioned his sister.  “Mother wouldn’t like that.”

[Illustration with caption:  For A moment sue lay there, still choking and gasping]

“I won’t,” promised Sue.  “And when we get through playing I can wash the mud off my face and hands.”

“Yes,” said Bunny.  “Now I’ll go over to my cave—­we’ll call the place where the vines grow over the stump a cave,” he went on, “and I’ll be there just like Robinson Crusoe Was in the cave on his island.  Then I’ll come out and find you, all blacked up with mud, and I’ll call you Friday.”

Sue clapped her hands in delight, and, when Bunny went off to the cave, which, he remembered, was the sort of place where the real Robinson Crusoe lived, in the story book, Sue found a place where there was some soft, black mud.

Very carefully, so as not to soil her dress, the little girl blackened her hands and face, rubbing on the dirt as well as she could.

“Bunny!  Bunny!” she called after a bit.

“Well, what is it?” asked her brother, as he was sitting in his make-believe cave.

“Come and look at me,” said Sue, “and see if I’m black enough to be Friday.”

Bunny came and looked.

“You need a little more mud around behind your ears,” he said.  “I’ll put it on for you,” and he did so.