to eat, the hard and the
soft. One has a very hard shell, and this is the kind of clam you most
often see in the stores.

But there is another sort of clam, with a thin shell, and out of one end
of it the clam sticks a long thing, like a rubber tube. And when the
clam digs a hole for himself down in the sand or the mud he thrusts this
tube up to the top, and through it he sucks down things to eat.

The six little Bunkers had often seen the fishermen on Clam River dig
down after these soft-shelled fellows. The men used a short-handled hoe,
and when they had dug away the sand there they found the clams in
something that looked like little pockets, or burrows.

"Maybe we can dig clams," said Margy.

"We hasn't got any shovel or hoe," returned Mun Bun.

"Maybe we can dig with some big clam shells, if we can find some," his
sister said.

By this time they had reached the little island. Just like the islands
in your geography, it was "entirely surrounded by water," and it made a
nice place to play, except that it was rather sunny. But Mun Bun and
Margy did not mind the sun very much.

They were used to playing out in it, and they were now as brown as
berries, or Indians, or nuts, whichever you like best. They were well
tanned, and did not get sunburned as many little boys and girls do when
they go to the seashore for the first time.

"We can take the clams to Cousin Ruth and she can make chowder and
she'll give us some cookies, maybe," said Mun Bun.

"I like clams better than cookies," remarked Margy. "I mean I like to
eat cookies, but I like to dig clams."

"You can't dig cookies," said Mun Bun.

"You could dig one if you dropped yours in the sand," returned his
sister.

"Yes, you could do that," agreed the little boy. "But it would be all
sand, and it wouldn't be good to eat."

"I don't guess it would. We'll just dig clams. Anyhow, we hasn't any
cookies to dig or to eat."

This was very true. And now the two little children began to hunt for
clam shells to use for shovels in digging. They wanted the large shells
of the hard clam, and soon each had one. Then they began to dig, as they
had seen their father and Cousin Tom do. For Daddy Bunker had once taken
Margy and Mun Bun with him and the other Mr. Bunker, when they went to
dig soft clams.

Whether Margy and Mun Bun did not know how to dig, or whether there were
no clams in the sand of the island I do not know. But I do know that the
two little Bunkers