"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Buddy Pigg one day. "Oh, dear! Oh, dear me suz dud!"

"Why, Buddy, dear, whatever in the world is the matter?" asked his mamma, and Brighteyes, who was mending some stockings, looked up at her brother in much surprise.

"Oh, dear!" cried the little guinea pig boy again, "I wish I had something to do. It's so hot and dry and dusty here. I wish some of the fellows would come around or—or I even wish school would begin again, so I would have something to do."

Now when a boy wishes for school, in the middle of vacation, you may be sure something serious is the matter. Mrs. Pigg knew this at once, so she asked:

"What would you like to do, Buddy?"

"I don't know," he answered, rather cross and fretful-like, which wasn't very nice, I suppose.

"All the boys have gone to Asbury Park or Ocean Grove," said Brighteyes, "and I guess you are lonesome, Buddy. It must be lovely at the seashore," and Brighteyes sighed the least bit, and took such a big stitch in the stocking she was mending that she had to rip it out and do it over again.

"Well, we can't go to the seashore this season because the salt air doesn't agree with your father," said Mrs. Pigg. "If all goes well, we shall soon be in the country, however. But now, what do you like best about the seashore, Buddy?"

"Going in bathing," he answered.

"You can do that right here at home," said his mamma. "I will get out your bathing suits, and you and Brighteyes can go swimming in the pond back of our house."

"That will be lovely!" cried Brighteyes, and she jumped up so quickly that she dropped the basket of stockings, and her pink hair ribbon came off, and she was all confused-like.

"There are no waves in the pond, like down in the ocean at Asbury," complained Buddy. "It is no fun to go in bathing where there are no waves."

"Ha! What's that?" cried a voice, and then Percival, the old circus dog, who was staying with the Piggs while the Bow Wow family, with whom he lived, was away for the summer—Percival, I say, got up from where he had been sleeping under a mosquito net to keep off the flies. "No waves, eh? So you want waves, do you, when you go in bathing, Buddy?" asked Percival.

"Yes," answered Buddy Pigg, "I do, Percival."

"Then," exclaimed the old circus dog, "you and Brighteyes shall have them. Get on your bathing suits and come down to the pond. When you get there you'll find waves enough; I'll guarantee that! Oh, my, yes, and a life-preserver besides!"

"How?" asked Buddy. "There are never any waves in that pond."

"Just you wait and see," said Percival.

Mrs. Pigg smiled, but she didn't say anything, and went after the bathing suits, while Buddy and Brighteyes wondered what was going to happen. Percival ran out, winking first one eye and then the other, and not both together, like some dollies do when they go to sleep, and he gave three short barks and a long one, just to show how glad he felt to be doing something.

Well, it didn't take Buddy and Brighteyes very long to put on their bathing suits. Then they hurried out of the back of the house and went toward the pond.

"Do you really s'pose there'll be waves?" asked Buddy.

"I don't know," answered his sister. "Percival is a very smart dog, you know."

Well, they ran down to the pond, and the first thing they saw when they got there were cords fastened to sticks driven down into the ground, just like the ropes at Asbury Park, you know—if you've ever been there. The ropes are for the bathers to take hold of when the waves come.

"Well," remarked Buddy, "I see the ropes, but I don't see any waves." But, no sooner had he spoken than a big wave rolled, splish-splash-splosh, right up the shore of the pond, which was rather sandy, and it sprayed itself over the toes of Buddy and Brighteyes—the wave splashed, you understand—not the sand, of course.

"Whee!" cried Buddy, all excited-like. "There's a wave!"

"Yes, and here comes another!" cried his sister, and, sure enough, another wave came sizzling and sloshing up out of the pond. And then another, and another, and another, until there were a dozen, or, maybe a dozen and a half of waves, one after the other.

"Oh, this is grand!" cried Buddy. "It's almost as good as Asbury Park!" and, really it was, I'm not fooling a bit. Of course the waves weren't as big as those at the seashore, but they were pretty good size. Well, Buddy and Brighteyes rushed into the water, keeping hold of the ropes, and the waves splashed all around them, and they splashed around in the waves, and pretty soon Buddy cried:

"Oh, I got a mouthful of water, and it's salty, just like the ocean!"

"Sure enough it is!" agreed Brighteyes, taking a small mouthful to taste. "I wonder what makes it?"

"And I wonder what makes the waves, and I wonder where Percival is?" went on Buddy, and just then there came such a big wave that it almost knocked him over, and he had to cling to the ropes. Then what should happen, but that at the far end of the pond, up rose old dog Percival, laughing as hard as he could laugh.

"I told you I would make waves!" he cried, and how do you s'pose he did it?

Why, he had a big, empty box, and he would raise that up and down in the water of the pond, as hard as he could, and this splashed, and made the waves; and Percival had a bag of salt, to make the water salty. Now, wasn't he the smart dog though?

Well, he went on, making more salty waves, and Buddy and Brighteyes paddled around in them, and yelled and hollered, and held on to the ropes, and ducked each other, and splashed and had as good a time as if they had been at the seashore; and so did Percival, too, I guess. Then, after a while they came out of the water and dried off, after thanking Percival.

Now, if our bathtub doesn't freeze up so the canary bird can't go in swimming I'll tell you presently about Buddy building a sand house.