ll, now we'll start to build," said Russ, when the last cookie and
cracker had been eaten. "First we'll stick up four posts in the sand,
one for each corner of the bungalow."

The children had made playhouses before, not only at their home in
Pineville, but while they were at Grandma Bell's house, near Lake
Sagatook, Maine; so they knew something of what they wanted to do.

Of course the bungalow was rather rough. It could not be otherwise with
only rough driftwood with which to make it. But then it was just what
the children wanted.

When the four posts were set deep in the sand, in holes dug with clam
shells, the children placed boards from one to the other, sometimes
making them fast, by driving in, with stones for hammers, the rusty
nails which were found in some pieces of the wood. Other boards or
planks they tied together with bits of string. Over the top they placed
sticks, and on top of the sticks they spread seaweed.

"We don't want the roof very heavy," said Russ, "'cause then if it falls
in on us, as our snow house roof did once, it won't hurt us. All we want
is something to keep off the sun."

"Won't it keep the rain out, too?" asked Rose.

"No, I don't guess it will," answered Russ, as he looked up and saw
several holes in the roof. "Anyhow we won't play out here when it rains.
Mother wouldn't let us."

The pirate bungalow was soon finished; that is, finished as much as the
children wanted it, and then they began playing in it. Russ pretended
that he was the pirate, and that the others were his prisoners. He made
them dig little holes in the sand, and bring in shells and stones as
well as seaweed. This last he made believe was hay for a make-believe
elephant.

"Do pirates have elephants?" asked Violet.

"Sometimes maybe they do," her brother said. "Anyhow I can make believe
that just for fun."

"Are we going to eat any more?" asked Laddie. "Or is that only
make-believe, too?"

"I'll see if I can get some more from Cousin Ruth," promised Russ. Once
more he made a trip up to the real bungalow, and Cousin Ruth, with
laughter, filled another bag with cookies. This time Margy and Mun Bun,
tired of playing with the shells and pebbles, went down on the beach to
the driftwood pirate bungalow.

It was rather a tight squeeze to get all six of the little Bunkers
inside, and not have the place burst and fall apart. But they managed
it, and then they sat under the seaweed roof and ate the cookies, having