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 MARJORIE'S VACATION
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
 
 PATTY SERIES 
 
 PATTY FAIRFIELD 
 PATTY AT HOME 
 PATTY IN THE CITY 
 PATTY'S SUMMER DAYS 
 PATTY IN PARIS 
 PATTY'S FRIENDS 
 PATTY'S PLEASURE TRIP 
 PATTY'S SUCCESS 
 PATTY'S MOTOR CAR 
 PATTY'S BUTTERFLY DAYS 
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 MARJORIE'S BUSY DAYS 
 MARJORIE'S NEW FRIEND 
 MARJORIE IN COMMAND 
 MARJORIE'S MAYTIME 
 MARJORIE AT SEACOTE
 
 "Molly threw herself flat on the porch and 
 reached down a helping hand"
 
 MARJORIE'S 
 VACATION 
 
 BY 
 
 CAROLYN WELLS 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 THE "PATTY" BOOKS 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 Copyright, 1907 
 By DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
 
 MY LITTLE FRIEND 
 MURIEL DUNHAM PRATT 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 
 IS 
 LOVINGLY DEDICATED 
 
 1128907
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGr 
 
 I. MARJORIE'S HOME i 
 
 II. THE TRIP TO HASLEMERK . . . .18 
 
 III. ON THE ROOF 30 
 
 IV. A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE ...... 45 
 
 V. SOME INTERESTING LETTERS . . .59 
 
 VI. Boo! 73 
 
 VII. A BOAT-RIDE 86 
 
 VIII. A MEMORY BOOK 100 
 
 IX. THE FRONT STAIRS 115 
 
 X. A LONG DAY 130 
 
 XI. THE DUNNS 142 
 
 XII. THE BAZAAR 156 
 
 XIII. A BIRTHDAY 171 
 
 XIV. "BREEZY INN" 185 
 
 XV. THE BROKEN LADDER 199 
 
 XVI. FIRECRACKERS 214 
 
 XVII. PENNYROYAL 229
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THAPTER 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XVIII. WELCOME GIFTS 243 
 
 XIX.. THE OLD WELL 258 
 
 XX. AN EVENTFUL DAY ..... 272 
 
 XXI. A FAREWELL TEA-PARTY .... 290
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 
 
 IN the Maynards' side yard at Rockwell, a 
 swingful of children was slowly swaying back 
 and forth. 
 
 The swing was one of those big double wooden 
 affairs that hold four people, so the Maynards 
 just filled it comfortably. 
 
 It was a lovely soft summer day in the very be- 
 ginning of June ; the kind of day that makes any- 
 body feel happy but a little bit subdued. The 
 kind of day when the sky is so blue, and the air so 
 clear, that everything seems dreamy and quiet. 
 
 But the Maynard children were little, if any, 
 affected by the atmosphere, and though they did
 
 2 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 seem a trifle subdued, it was a most unusual state 
 of things, and was brought about by reasons far 
 more definite than sky or atmosphere. 
 
 Kingdon Maynard, the oldest of the four, and 
 the only boy, was fourteen. These facts had long 
 ago fixed his position as autocrat, dictator, and 
 final court of appeal. Whatever King said, was 
 law to the three girls, but as the boy was really a 
 mild-mannered tyrant, no trouble ensued. Of 
 late, though, he had begun to show a slight incli- 
 nation to go off on expeditions with other boys, in 
 which girls were not included. But this was 
 accepted by his sisters as a natural course of 
 events, for of course, if King did it, it must be 
 all right. 
 
 Next to Kingdon in the swing sat the baby, 
 Rosamond, who was five years old, and who was 
 always called Rosy Posy. She held in her arms a 
 jood-sized white Teddy Bear, who was adorned 
 with a large blue bow and whose name was Boffin. 
 He was the child's inseparable companion, and, as 
 he was greatly beloved by the other children, he 
 was generally regarded as a member of the family.
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 3 
 
 On the opposite seat of the swing sat Kitty, who 
 was nine years old, and who closely embraced her 
 favorite doll, Arabella. 
 
 And by Kitty's side sat Marjorie, who was al- 
 most twelve, and who also held a pet, which, in her 
 case, was a gray Persian kitten. This kitten was 
 of a most amiable disposition, and was named 
 Puff, because of its fluffy silver fur and fat little 
 body. 
 
 Wherever Marjorie went, Puff was usually with 
 her, and oftenest hung over her arm, looking more 
 like a fur boa than a cat. 
 
 At the moment, however, Puff was curled up 
 in Marjorie's lap, and was merely a nondescript 
 ball of fur. 
 
 These, then, were the Maynards, and though 
 their parents would have said they had four chil- 
 dren, yet the children themselves always said, "We 
 are seven," and insisted on considering the kitten, 
 the doll, and the bear as members of the Maynard 
 family. 
 
 Kingdon scorned pets, which the girls con- 
 sidered quite the right thing for a boy to do;
 
 4 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 and, anyway, Kingdon had enough to attend to, 
 to keep the swing going. 
 
 "I 'most wish it wasn't my turn," said Mar- 
 jorie, with a little sigh. "Of course I want to go 
 for lots of reasons, but I'd love to be in Rockwell 
 this summer, too." 
 
 "As you're not twins you can't very well be in 
 two places at once," said her brother; "but you'll 
 have a gay old time, Mops; there's the new boat- 
 house, you know, since you were there." 
 
 "I haven't been there for three years," said 
 Marjorie, "and I suppose there'll be lots of 
 changes." 
 
 "I was there two years ago," said Kitty, "but 
 Arabella has never been." 
 
 "I'se never been, eever," said Rosy Posy, wist- 
 fully, "and so Boffin hasn't, too. But we don't 
 want to go, us wants to stay home wiv Muwer." 
 
 "And I say, Mops, look out for the Baltimore 
 oriole," went on Kingdon. "He had a nest in the 
 big white birch last year, and like as not he'll be 
 there again." 
 
 "There was a red-headed woodpecker two yean
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 5 
 
 ago," said Kitty; "perhaps he'll be there this 
 summer." 
 
 "I hope so," said Marjorie; "I'm going to take 
 my big Bird book, and then I can tell them all." 
 
 It was the custom in the Maynard household for 
 one of the children to go each summer to Grandma 
 Sherwood's farm near Morristown. They took 
 turns, but as Rosy Posy was so little she had not 
 begun yet. 
 
 The children always enjoyed the vacation at 
 Grandma's, but they were a chummy little crowd 
 and dreaded the separation. This was the reason 
 of their subdued and depressed air to-day. 
 
 It was Marjorie's turn, and she was to leave 
 home the next morning. Mrs. Maynard was to 
 accompany her on the journey, and then return, 
 leaving Marjorie in the country for three months. 
 
 "I wonder how Puffy will like it," she said, as 
 she picked up the kitten, and looked into its blue 
 eyes. 
 
 "She'll be all right," said Kingdon, "if she does- 
 n't fight with Grandma's cats. There were about 
 a dozen there last year, and they may object to
 
 6 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Puffs style of hair-dressing. Perhaps we'd bet- 
 ter cut her hair before she starts." 
 
 "No, indeed!" cried Marjorie, "not a hair shall 
 be touched, unless you'd like a lock to keep to 
 remember her while she's gone." 
 
 "No, thank you," said King, loftily; "I don't 
 carry bits of cat around in my pockets." 
 
 "I'd like a lock," said Kitty; "I'd tie it with 
 a little blue ribbon, and keep it for a forget-me- 
 not. And I'll give you a little curl of Arabella's, 
 and you can keep that to remember her by." 
 
 "All right," said Marjorie; "and I'll take a 
 lock of Boffin Bear's hair too. Then I'll have a 
 memento of all the family, because I have pictures 
 of all of you, you know." 
 
 With the Maynards to suggest was to act. So 
 the four scrambled out of the swing, and ran to 
 the house. 
 
 The Maynard house was a large square affair, 
 with verandas all around. Not pretentious, but 
 homelike and comfortable, and largely given over 
 to the children's use. Though not often in the 
 drawing-room, the four young Maynards fre-
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME T 
 
 quently monopolized the large living-room, and 
 were allowed free access to the library as 
 well. 
 
 Also they had a general playroom and a 
 nursery; and Kingdon had a small den or work- 
 room for his own use, which was oftener than not 
 invaded by the girls. 
 
 To the playroom they went, and Kingdon care- 
 fully cut small locks from the kitten, the doll, and 
 the bear, and Marjorie neatly tied them with nar- 
 row blue ribbons. These mementoes the girls put 
 away, and carefully treasured all through the 
 summer. 
 
 Another Maynard custom was a farewell feast 
 at dinner, the night before vacation began. Ordi- 
 narily, only the two older children dined with their 
 parents, the other two having their tea in the 
 nursery. But on this occasion, all were allowed 
 at dinner, and the feast was made a special honor 
 for the one who was going away. Gifts were 
 made, as on a birthday, and festival dress was in 
 order. 
 
 A little later, then, the four children presented
 
 8 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 themselves in the library, where their parents 
 awaited them. 
 
 Mr. Maynard was a man of merry disposition 
 and rollicking nature, and sometimes joined so 
 heartily in the children's play that he seemed 
 scarcely older than they. 
 
 Mrs. Maynard was more sedate, and was a lov- 
 ing mother, though not at all a fussy one. She 
 was glad in many ways to have one of her children 
 spend the summer each year with her mother, but 
 it always saddened her when the time of departure 
 came. 
 
 She put her arm around Marjorie, without a 
 word, as the girl came into the room, for it had 
 been three years since the two had been parted, 
 and Mrs. Maynard felt a little sad at the thought 
 of separation. 
 
 "Don't look like that, Mother," said Marjorie, 
 "for if you do, I'll begin to feel weepy, and I won't 
 go at all." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you will, Miss Midge," cried her 
 father; "you'll go, and you'll stay all summer, 
 and you'll have a perfectly beautiful time. And,
 
 then, the first of September I'll come flying up 
 there to get you, and bring you home, and it'll be 
 all over. Now, such a short vacation as that isn't 
 worth worrying about, is it?" 
 
 "No," put in Kingdon, "and last year when I 
 went there wasn't any sad good-by." 
 
 "That's because you're a boy," said his mother, 
 smiling at him proudly; "tearful good-bys are 
 only for girls and women." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Maynard, "they enjoy them, 
 you know. Now, / think it is an occasion of re- 
 joicing that Marjorie is to go to Grandma's and 
 have a happy, jolly vacation. We can all write 
 letters to her, and she will write a big budget of 
 a family letter that we can all enjoy together." 
 
 "And Mopsy must wite me a little letter, all for 
 my own sef ," remarked Rosy Posy, " 'cause I like 
 to get letters all to me." 
 
 Baby Rosamond was dressed up for the occasion 
 in a very frilly white frock, and being much im- 
 pressed by the grandeur of staying up to dinner, 
 she had solemnly seated herself in state on a big 
 sofa, holding Boffin Bear in her arms. Her words,
 
 10 
 
 therefore, seemed to have more weight than when 
 she was her everyday roly-poly self, tumbling 
 about on the floor, and Marjorie at once promised 
 that she should have some letters all to herself. 
 
 When dinner was announced, Mr. Maynard, 
 with Marjorie, led the procession to the dining- 
 room. They were followed by Mrs. Maynard and 
 Rosamond, and after them came Kingdon and 
 Kitty. 
 
 Kitty was a golden-haired little girl, quite in 
 contrast to Marjorie, who had tangled masses of 
 dark, curly hair and large, dark eyes. Her cheeks 
 were round and rosy, and her little white teeth 
 could almost always be seen, for merry Marjorie 
 was laughing most of the time. To-night she 
 wore one of her prettiest white dresses, and her 
 dark curls were clustered at the top of her head 
 into a big scarlet bow. The excitement of the 
 occasion made her cheeks red and her eyes bright, 
 and Mrs. Maynard looked at her pretty eldest 
 daughter with a pardonable pride. 
 
 "Midge," she said, "there are just about a hun- 
 dred things I ought to tell you before you go
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 11 
 
 to Grandma's, but if I were to tell you now, you 
 wouldn't remember one of them ; so I have written 
 them all down, and you must take the list with 
 you, and read it every morning so that you may 
 remember and obey the instructions." 
 
 Midge was one of the numerous nicknames by 
 which Marjorie was called. Her tumbling, curly 
 hair, which was everlastingly escaping from its 
 ribbon, had gained for her the title of Mops or 
 Mopsy. Midge and Midget had clung to her 
 from babyhood, because she was an active and en- 
 ergetic child, and so quick of motion that she 
 seemed to dart like a midge from place to place. 
 She never did anything slowly. Whether it was 
 an errand for her mother or a game of play, 
 Midge always moved rapidly. Her tasks were 
 always done in half the time it took the other 
 children to do theirs; but in consequence of this 
 haste, they were not always done as well or as 
 thoroughly as could be desired. 
 
 This, her mother often told her, was her be- 
 setting sin, and Marjorie truly tried to correct it 
 when she thought of it; but often she was too
 
 12 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 busy with the occupation in hand to remember the 
 good instructions she had received. 
 
 "I'm glad you did that, Mother," she replied 
 to her mother's remark, "for I really haven't time 
 to study the list now. But I'll promise to read 
 it over every morning at Grandma's, and honest 
 and true, I'll try to be good." 
 
 "Of course you will," said her father, heartily ; 
 "you'll be the best little girl in the world, except 
 the two you leave here behind you." 
 
 "Me's the bestest," calmly remarked Rosamond, 
 who seemed especially satisfied with herself that 
 evening. 
 
 "You are," agreed King; "you look good 
 enough to eat, to-night." 
 
 Rosamond beamed happily, for she was not 
 unused to flattering observations from the family. 
 And, indeed, she was a delicious-looking morsel 
 of humanity, as she sat in her high chair, and 
 tried her best to "behave like a lady." 
 
 The table was decorated with June roses and 
 daisies. The dinner included Marjorie's favorite 
 dishes, and the dessert was strawberries and ice
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 18 
 
 cream, which, Kitty declared, always made a 
 party, anyway. 
 
 So with the general air of celebration, and Mr. 
 Maynard's gay chatter and jokes, the little trace 
 of sadness that threatened to appear was kept 
 out of sight, and all through the summer Mar- 
 jorie had only pleasant memories of her last even- 
 ing at home. 
 
 After the dessert the waitress appeared again 
 with a trayful of parcels, done up in the most 
 fascinating way, in tissue paper and dainty 
 ribbons. 
 
 This, too, was always a part of the farewell 
 feast, and Marjorie gave a little sigh of satis- 
 faction, as the well-filled tray was placed before 
 her. 
 
 "That's mine! Open mine first!" cried Rosa- 
 mond, as Marjorie picked up a good-sized 
 bundle. 
 
 "Yes, that's Rosy Posy's," said her mother, 
 laughing, "and she picked it out herself, because 
 she thought it would please you. Open it first. 
 Midge."
 
 14 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 So Marjorie opened the package, and discovered 
 a little clock, on the top of which was perched a 
 brilliant red bird. 
 
 Rosamond clapped her hands in glee. "I knew 
 you'd love it," she cried, " 'cause it's a birdie, a 
 yed birdie. And I finded it all mysef in the man's 
 shop. Do you yike it, Mopsy?" 
 
 "Indeed I do," cried Marjorie; "it's just what 
 I wanted. I shall keep it on my dressing-table 
 at Grandma's, and then I'll know just when to get 
 up every morning." 
 
 "Open mine next," said Kitty ; "it's the square 
 flat one, with the blue ribbon." 
 
 So Marjorie opened Kitty's present and it was 
 a picture, beautifully framed to hang on the wall 
 at Grandma's. The picture was of birds, two 
 beautiful orioles on a branch. The colors were 
 so bright, and so true to nature, that Marjorie 
 exclaimed in delight: 
 
 "Now I shall have orioles there, anyway, 
 whether there are real ones in the trees or not. 
 It is lovely, Kitsie, and I don't see how you ever 
 found such a beautiful bird picture."
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 15 
 
 Marjorie had always been fond of birds, and 
 lately had begun studying them in earnest. 
 Orioles were among her favorites, and so Kitty's 
 picture was a truly welcome gift. King's pres- 
 ent came next, and was a beautiful gold pen with a 
 pearl holder. 
 
 "That," he explained, "is so you'll write to us 
 often. For I know, Mops, your old penholder is 
 broken, and it's silver, anyway. This is nicer, 
 because it's no trouble to keep it clean and 
 bright." 
 
 "That's so, King, and I'm delighted with this 
 one. I shall write you a letter with it, first of all, 
 and I'll tell you all about the farm." 
 
 Mrs. Maynard's gift was in a very small parcel r 
 and when Marjorie opened it she found a dear 
 little pearl ring. 
 
 "Oh, goody!" she cried. "I do love rings, and 
 I never had one before! May I wear it always, 
 Mother?" 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Maynard, smiling. "I don't 
 approve of much jewelry for a little girl not 
 yet twelve years old, but you may wear that."
 
 16 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Marjorie put it on her finger with great satis- 
 faction, and Kitty looked at it lovingly. 
 
 "May I have one when I am twelve, Mother?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "May I, may I?" chimed in Rosy Posy. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Maynard ; "you girls may each 
 have one just like Marjorie's when you are as 
 old as she is now. That last parcel, Mops, is my 
 present for you. I'm not sure that you can learn 
 to use it, but perhaps you can, and if not I'll 
 take it back and exchange it for something 
 else." 
 
 Marjorie eagerly untied the wrappings of 
 her father's gift, and found a little snapshot 
 camera. 
 
 "Indeed I can learn to use it," she cried; "I 
 took some pictures once with a camera that be- 
 longed to one of the girls at school, and they 
 were all right. Thank you heaps and heaps, 
 father dear; I'll send you pictures of everything 
 on the place; from Grandma herself down to the 
 littlest, weeniest, yellow chicken." 
 
 "Next year it will be my turn to go," said
 
 MARJORIE'S HOME 17 
 
 Kitty; "I hope I'll get as lovely presents as 
 Mopsy has." 
 
 "You will," said Kingdon ; "because last year 
 mine were just as good, and so, of course, yours 
 will be." 
 
 "I'm sure they will," said Kitty.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMEEE 
 
 THE next morning all was bustle and excite- 
 ment. 
 
 Mr. Maynard stayed at home from business to 
 escort the travellers to the train. The trunks were 
 packed, and everything was in readiness for their 
 departure. Marjorie herself, in a spick-and-span 
 pink gingham dress, a tan-colored travelling cloak, 
 and a broad-brimmed white straw hat, stood in the 
 hall saying good-bye to the other children. She 
 carried Puff in her arm, and the sleepy, indif- 
 ferent kitten cared little whither she was going. 
 
 "Be sure," Kingdon was saying, "to plant the 
 seeds I gave you in a sunny place, for if you don't 
 they won't grow right." 
 
 "What are the seeds?" asked Marjorie. 
 
 "Never mind that," said her brother; "you just 
 18
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMERE 19 
 
 plant them in a warm, sunny bed, in good, rich 
 soil, and then you wait and see what comes up. 
 It's a surprise." 
 
 "All right, I'll do that, and I suppose Grand- 
 ma will give me a lot of seeds besides; we always 
 have gardens, you know." 
 
 "Be sure to write to me," said Kitty, "about 
 Molly Moss. She's the one that lives in the next 
 house but one to Grandma's. You've never seen 
 her, but I saw her two years ago, and she's an 
 awfully nice girl. You'll like her, I know." 
 
 "And what shall I remember to do for you, Rosy 
 Posy?" asked Marjorie, as she kissed the baby 
 good-bye. 
 
 "Don't know," responded the little one; "I've 
 never been to Gamma's. Is they piggy-wigs 
 there?" 
 
 "No," said Marjorie, laughing; "no piggy- 
 wigs, but some nice ducks." 
 
 "All wite; b'ing me a duck." 
 
 "I will, if Grandma will give me one" ; and then 
 Marjorie was hurried down the steps by her 
 father, and into the carriage, and away she went,
 
 JO MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 with many a backward look at the three children 
 who stood on the veranda waving good-byes to 
 her. 
 
 The railroad trip to Morristown lasted about 
 four hours, and Marjorie greatly enjoyed it. Mr. 
 Maynard had put the two travellers into their 
 chairs in the parlor car, and arranged their be- 
 longings for them. Marjorie had brought a book 
 to read and a game to play, but with the novel 
 attractions of the trip and the care of her kitten, 
 she was not likely to have time hang heavily on her 
 hands. 
 
 Mrs. Maynard read a magazine for a time, and 
 then they were summoned to luncheon in the dining- 
 car. Marjorie thought this great fun, for what 
 is nicer than to be a hungry little girl of twelve, 
 and to eat all sorts of good things, while flying 
 swiftly along in a railroad train, and gazing out 
 of the window at towns and cities rushing by ? 
 
 Marjorie sat opposite her mother, and observed 
 with great interest the other passengers about. 
 Across the car was a little girl who seemed to be 
 about her own age, and Marjorie greatly v-'^iM
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMERE 21 
 
 that they might become acquainted. Mrs. May- 
 nard said that after luncheon she might go and 
 speak to the little stranger if she chose, and Mar- 
 jorie gladly did so. 
 
 "I wonder if you belong in my car," said 
 Marjorie, by way of opening the conversation. 
 
 "I don't know," said the other child; "our 
 seats are in the car just back of this." 
 
 "We are two cars back," said Marjorie, "but 
 perhaps your mother will let you come into my car 
 a while. I have my kitten with me." 
 
 "Where is it?" asked the other little girl. 
 
 "I had to leave it rrith the porter while we came 
 to luncheon. Oh, she's the loveliest kitten you 
 ever saw, and her name is Puff. What's your 
 name?" 
 
 "My name is Stella Martin. What's yours?" 
 
 "My real name is Marjorie Maynard. But I'm 
 almost always called Midge or Mops or some name 
 like that. We all have nicknames at home; don't 
 you?" 
 
 "No, because you see I haven't any brothers of 
 sisters. Mother always calls me Stella."
 
 22 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Well, let's go and ask her if you can't come 
 into my car for a while. My mother will look after 
 you, and then you can see the kitten." 
 
 After some courteous words of explanation 
 between the two mothers, Stella was allowed 
 to play with Marjorie for the rest of the 
 journey. 
 
 Seated together in one of the big Pullman easy 
 chairs, with the kitten cuddled between them, they 
 rapidly made each other's acquaintance, and soon 
 became good friends. They were not at all alike, 
 for Stella Martin was a thin, pale child with a long 
 braid of straight, light hair, and light blue eyes. 
 She was timid, too, and absolutely devoid of 
 Marjorie's impetuosity and daring. 
 
 But they were both pleased at the discovery 
 that they were to be near neighbors throughout 
 the summer. Stella's home was next-door to 
 Grandma Sherwood's, although, as both country 
 places were so large, the houses were some distance 
 apart. 
 
 Next beyond Stella's house, Marjorie remem- 
 bered, was where Molly Moss lived, and so the
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMERE 28 
 
 outlook seemed to promise plenty of pleasant com- 
 pany. 
 
 About three o'clock in the afternoon the train 
 reached Morristown, and springing out on the 
 platform, Marjorie soon spied Grandma Sher- 
 wood's carriage there to meet them. Old Moses 
 was still in charge of the horses, as he had been 
 ever since Marjorie could remember, and in a mo- 
 ment she heard a hearty voice cry, "Oh, there 
 you are!" and there was Uncle Steve waiting for 
 them on the platform. 
 
 Uncle Steve was a great friend of Marjorie's, 
 and she flew to greet him almost before he had 
 time to welcome her mother. Then in a few mo- 
 ments the luggage was looked after, and they were 
 all in the carriage, rolling away toward Hasle- 
 mere. 
 
 Marjorie chatted away like a magpie, for she 
 had many questions to ask Uncle Steve, and as 
 she was looking out to renew acquaintance with 
 old landmarks along the road, the drive to the 
 house seemed very short, and soon they were turn- 
 ing in at the gate.
 
 24 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Haslcmere was not a large, old-fashioned farm, 
 but a fair-sized and well-kept country place. 
 Grandma Sherwood, who had been a widow for 
 many years, lived there with her son Stephen. It 
 was like a farm, because there were chickens and 
 ducks, and cows and horses, and also a large gar- 
 den where fresh vegetables of all sorts were raised. 
 But there were no grain fields or large pasture 
 lands, or pigs or turkeys, such as belong to larger 
 farms. The drive from the gate up to the house 
 was a long avenue, shaded on both sides by beauti- 
 ful old trees, and the wide expanse of lawn was 
 kept as carefully mowed as if at a town house. 
 There were flower beds in abundance, and among 
 the trees and shrubbery were rustic seats and 
 arbors, hammocks and swings, and a delightful 
 tent where the children loved to play. Back of 
 the house the land sloped down to the river, which 
 was quite large enough for delightful boating and 
 fishing. 
 
 The house was of that old-fashioned type which 
 has two front doors and two halls, with large 
 parlors between them, and wings on either side.
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMERE 25 
 
 A broad veranda ran across the front, and, turn- 
 ing both corners, ran along either side. 
 
 As they drove up to the house, Grandma Sher- 
 wood was on the piazza waiting for them. She 
 was not a very old lady, that is, she was not of 
 the white-haired, white-capped, and silver-spec- 
 tacled variety. She was perhaps sixty years old, 
 and seemed quite as energetic and enthusiastic as 
 her daughter, if perhaps not quite so much so as 
 her granddaughter. 
 
 Marjorie sprang out of the carriage, and flew 
 like a young whirlwind to her grandmother's arms, 
 which were open to receive her. 
 
 "My dear child, how you have grown !" 
 
 "I knew you'd say that, Grandma," said Mar- 
 jorie, laughing merrily, "and, indeed, I have 
 grown since I was here last. Just think, that was 
 three years ago! I'm almost twelve years old 
 now." 
 
 "Well, you are a great girl; run in the house, 
 and lay off your things, while I speak to your 
 mother." 
 
 Marjorie danced into the house, flung her coat
 
 26 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 and gloves on the hall rack, and still holding her 
 kitten, went on through to the kitchen, in search 
 of Eliza the cook. 
 
 "The saints presarve us!" cried Eliza. "An* 
 is it yersilf, Miss Midget ! Why, ye' re as big as a 
 tellygraft pole, so ye are !" 
 
 "I know I am, Eliza, but you're just the same 
 as ever; and just look at the kitten I have 
 brought! Have you any here now?" 
 
 "Cats, is it ? Indade we have, then ! I'm think- 
 in* there do be a hundred dozen of thim; they're 
 undher me feet continual ! But what kind of a 
 baste is thot ye have there? I niver saw such a 
 woolly one!" 
 
 "This is a Persian kitten, Eliza, and her name is 
 Puff. Isn't she pretty?" 
 
 "I'll not be sayin' she's purty, till I see how she 
 doos be behavin'. Is she a good little cat, Miss 
 Midget dear ?" 
 
 "Good! Indeed she is a good kitty. And I 
 wish you'd give her some milk, Eliza, while I run 
 out to see the chickens. Is Carter out there?" 
 
 But without waiting for an answer, Marjorie
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMERE 27 
 
 was already flying down through the garden, and 
 soon found Carter, the gardener, at his work. 
 
 "Hello, Carter !" she cried. "How are you this 
 summer ?" 
 
 "Welcome, Miss Midge! I'm glad to see you 
 back," exclaimed the old gardener, who was very 
 fond of the Maynard children. 
 
 "And I'm glad to be here, Carter; and I have 
 some seeds to plant ; will you help me plant them ?" 
 
 "That I will. What are they?" 
 
 "I don't know; King gave them to me, but he 
 wouldn't tell me what they were." 
 
 "Ah, the mischievous boy! Now, how can we 
 tell where to plant them when we don't know if 
 they'll come up lilies of the valley or elephant's 
 ears?" 
 
 Marjorie laughed gayly. "It doesn't matter, 
 Carter," she said ; "let's stick them in some sunny 
 place, and then, if they seem to be growing too 
 high, we can transplant them." 
 
 "It's a wise little head you have, Miss ; we'll do 
 just that." 
 
 Humoring Marjorie's impatience, the good-
 
 28 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 natured gardener helped her plant the seeds in a 
 sunny flowerbed, and raked the dirt neatly over 
 them with an experienced touch. 
 
 "That looks lovely," said Marjorie, with a sat- 
 isfied nod of approval; "now let's go and see the 
 chickens." 
 
 This proved even more interesting than she had 
 anticipated, for since her last visit an incubator 
 had been purchased, and there were hundreds of 
 little chickens of various sizes, in different com- 
 partments, to be looked at and admired. 
 
 "Aren't they darlings!" exclaimed Marjorie, 
 as she watched the little yellow balls trying to 
 balance themselves on slender little brown stems 
 that hardly seemed as if they could be meant for 
 legs. "Oh, Carter, I shall spend hours out here 
 every day!" 
 
 "Do, Miss Midge; I'll be glad to have you, and 
 the chickens won't mind it a bit." 
 
 "Now the horses," Marjorie went on, and off 
 they went to the stables, where Moses had already 
 unharnessed the carriage team, and put them in 
 their stalls. Uncle Steve had a new saddle horse,
 
 THE TRIP TO HASLEMERE 29 
 
 which came in for a large share of admiration, 
 and the old horse, Betsy, which Grandma Sher- 
 wood liked to drive herself, was also to be greeted. 
 
 Marjorie loved all animals, but after cats, 
 horses were her favorites. 
 
 "Are there any ducks this year, Carter?" she 
 inquired. 
 
 "Yes, Miss Midge, there is a duck-pond full of 
 them; and you haven't seen the new boathouse 
 that was built last year for Master Kingdon." 
 
 "No, but I want to see it ; and oh, Carter, don't 
 you think you could teach me to row?" 
 
 "I'm sure of it, Miss Midge; but I hear your 
 grandmother calling you, and I think you'd better 
 leave the boathouse to see to-morrow." 
 
 "All right ; I think so too, Carter." And Mar- 
 jorie ran back to the house, her broad-brimmed 
 hat in one hand and her hair ribbon in the other, 
 while her curls were, indeed, in a tangled mop.
 
 ON THE EOOF 
 
 "WHY, Mopsy Maynard," exclaimed her mother, 
 as Marjorie danced into the house, smiling and 
 dishevelled, "what a looking head! Please go 
 straight to your room, and make yourself tidy 
 before supper time." 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Mother, but just listen a minute! 
 Uncle Steve has a new horse, a black one, and there 
 are a hundred million little chickens, in the queer- 
 est kind of a thing, but I can't remember its name, 
 it's something like elevator." 
 
 "Incubator, perhaps," suggested her mother. 
 
 "Yes, that's it; and oh, Mother, it's so funny! 
 Do come out and see it, won't you?" 
 
 "Not to-night, child; and now run up to your 
 room and tie up your hair." 
 
 ie danced upstairs, singing as she went, 
 30
 
 ON THE ROOF 31 
 
 but when she reached the door of the room she 
 was accustomed to use, she stopped her singing 
 and stood in the doorway, stock-still with sheer 
 bewilderment. 
 
 For somehow the room had been entirely trans- 
 formed, and looked like a totally different apart- 
 ment. 
 
 The room was in one of the wings of the house, 
 and was large and square, with windows on two 
 sides. But these had been ordinary windows, and 
 now they were replaced by large, roomy bay win- 
 dows, with glass doors that reached from floor 
 to ceiling, and opened out on little balconies. In 
 one of these bay windows was a dear little rock- 
 ing-chair painted white, and a standard work- 
 basket of dainty white and green wicker, com- 
 pletely furnished with sewing materials. In the 
 other bay window was a dear little writing-desk 
 of bird's-eye maple, and a wicker chair in front 
 of it. The desk was open, and Marjorie could 
 see all sorts of pens and pencils and paper in fas- 
 cinating array. 
 
 But these were only a few of the surprises. The
 
 32 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 whole room had been redecorated, and the walls 
 were papered with a design of yellow daffodils in 
 little bunches tied with pale green ribbon. The 
 woodwork was all painted white, and entirely 
 around the room, at just about the height of 
 Marjorie's chin, ran a broad white shelf. Of 
 course this shelf stopped for the windows and 
 doors, but the room was large, and there was a 
 great deal of space left for the shelf. But it was 
 the things on the shelf that attracted Marjorie's 
 attention. One side of the room was devoted to 
 books, and Marjorie quickly recognized many of 
 her old favorites, and many new ones. On an- 
 other side of the room the shelf was filled with 
 flowers, some blooming gayly in pots, and some 
 cut blossoms in vases of water. On a third side of 
 the room the shelf held birds, and this sight nearly 
 took Marjorie's breath away. Some were in gilt 
 cages, a canary, a goldfinch, and another bird 
 whose name Marjorie did not know. And some 
 were stuffed birds of brilliant plumage, and 
 mounted in most natural positions on twigs or 
 branches, or perched upon an ivy vine which was
 
 ON THE ROOF 33 
 
 trained along the wall. The fourth side was al- 
 most empty, and Marjorie knew at once that it 
 was left so in order that she might have a place 
 for such treasured belongings as she had brought 
 with her. 
 
 "Well!" she exclaimed, although there was no 
 one there to hear her. "Well, if this isn't the best 
 ever!" She stood in the middle of the room, and 
 turned slowly round and round, taking in by de- 
 grees the furnishings and adornment. All of the 
 furniture was new, and the brass bed and dainty 
 dressing-table seemed to Marjorie quite fit for any 
 princess. 
 
 "Well !" she exclaimed again, and as she turned 
 around this time she saw the older people watching 
 her from the hall. 
 
 "Oh, Grandma Sherwood!" she cried, and run- 
 ning to the old lady, proceeded to hug her in a 
 way that was more affectionate than comfort- 
 able. 
 
 "Do you like it?" asked Grandma, when she 
 could catch her breath. 
 
 "Like it! It's the most beautiful, loveliest.
 
 34 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 sweetest room in the whole world ! I love it ! Did 
 you do it all for me, Grandma?" 
 
 "Yes, Midget ; that is, I fixed up the room, but 
 for the shelf you must thank Uncle Steve. That 
 is his idea entirely, and he superintended its put- 
 ting up. You're to use it this year, and next year 
 Kitty can have her dolls and toys on it, and then 
 the year after, King can use it for his fishing- 
 tackle and boyish traps. Though I suppose by 
 that time Rosamond will be old enough to take 
 her turn." 
 
 "Then I can't come again for four years," 
 exclaimed Marjorie, with an expression of con- 
 sternation on her face. 
 
 "Not unless you come two at a time," said 
 Grandma ; "and I doubt if your mother would con- 
 sent to that." 
 
 "No, indeed," said Mrs. Maynard; "it's hard 
 enough to lose one of the flock, without losing 
 two." 
 
 "Well, I'll have a good time with it this summer, 
 anyway," said Marjorie; "can't we unpack my 
 trunk now, Mother, so I can put my pearl pen
 
 ON THE ROOF 35 
 
 in my desk; and my clock, that Rosy Posy gave 
 me, on the shelf; and hang up my bird picture on 
 the wall?" 
 
 "Not just now," said her mother, "for it is 
 nearly supper time, and you must transform your- 
 self from a wild maid of the woods into a decorous 
 little lady." 
 
 The transformation was accomplished, and it 
 was not very long before a very neat and tidy Mar- 
 jorie walked sedately downstairs to the dining- 
 room. Her white dress was immaculate; a big 
 white bow held the dark curls in place, and only 
 the dancing eyes betrayed the fact that it was 
 an effort to behave so demurely. 
 
 "Well, Midget," said Uncle Steve, as they were 
 seated at the supper table, "does the old place 
 look the same?" 
 
 "No, indeed, Uncle: there are lots of changes, 
 but best of all is my beauty room. I never saw 
 anything so lovely; I just want to stay up there 
 all the time." 
 
 "I thought you'd like that shelf. Now you 
 have room for all the thousand and one bits
 
 36 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 of rubbish that you accumulate through the 
 summer." 
 
 "'Tisn't rubbish!" exclaimed Marjorie, indig- 
 nantly; "it's dear little birds' nests, and queer 
 kinds of rocks, and branches of strange trees and 
 grasses and things." 
 
 "Well, I only meant it sounds to me like rub- 
 bish," said Uncle Steve, who loved to tease her 
 about her enthusiasms. 
 
 But she only smiled good-naturedly, for she 
 well knew that Uncle Steve was the very one who 
 would take her for long walks in the woods, on 
 purpose to gather this very "rubbish." 
 
 The next day Marjorie was up bright and early, 
 quite ready for any pleasure that might offer 
 itself. 
 
 Her mother went back home that day, and 
 though Marjorie felt a little sad at parting, yet, 
 after all, Grandma Sherwood's house was like a 
 second home, and there was too much novelty and 
 entertainment all about to allow time for feeling 
 sad. 
 
 Moreover, Marjorie was of a merry, happy dis-
 
 ON THE ROOF 37 
 
 position. It was natural to her to make the best 
 of everything, and even had she had reasons for 
 being truly miserable, she would have tried to be 
 happy in spite of them. 
 
 So she bade her mother good-by, and sent loving 
 messages to all at home, and promised to write 
 often. 
 
 "Remember," said her mother, as a parting in- 
 junction, "to read every morning the list I gave 
 you, which includes all my commands for the 
 summer. When I see you again I shall expect 
 you to tell me that you obeyed them all." 
 
 "I will try," said Marjorie; "but if it is a long 
 list I may forget some of them sometimes. You 
 know, Mother, I am forgetful." 
 
 "You are, indeed," said Mrs. Maynard, smil- 
 ing; "but if you'll try I think you'll succeed, at 
 least fairly well. Good-by now, dear; I must 
 be off; and do you go at once to your room 
 and read over the list so as to start the day 
 right." 
 
 "I will," said Marjorie, and as soon as she had 
 waved a last good-by, and the carriage had dis-
 
 38 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 appeared from view, she ran to her room, and 
 sitting down at her pretty desk, unfolded the list 
 her mother had given her. 
 
 To her great surprise, instead of the long list 
 she had expected to find, there were only two 
 items. The first was, "Keep your hands clean, 
 and your hair tidy"; and the other read, "Obey 
 Grandma implicitly." 
 
 "Well," thought Marjorie to herself, "I can 
 easily manage those two! And yet," she thought 
 further, with a little sigh, "they're awfully hard 
 ones. My hands just won't keep clean, and my 
 hair ribbon is forever coming off! And of course 
 I mean to obey Grandma always ; but sometimes 
 she's awful strict, and sometimes I forget what 
 she told me." 
 
 But with a firm resolve in her heart to do her 
 best, Marjorie went downstairs, and went out to 
 play in the garden. 
 
 Some time later she saw a girl of about her 
 own age coming down the path toward her. 
 She was a strange-looking child, with a very white 
 face, snapping black eyes, and straight wirj black
 
 ON THE ROOF 39 
 
 hair, braided in two little braids, which stood out 
 straight from her head. 
 
 "Are you Marjorie?" she said, in a thin, piping 
 voice. "I'm Molly Moss, and I've come to play 
 with you. I used to know Kitty." 
 
 "Yes," said Marjorie, pleasantly, "I'm Mar- 
 jorie, and I'm Kitty's sister. I'm glad you came. 
 Is that your kitten?" 
 
 "Yes," said Molly, as she held up a very small 
 black kitten, which was indeed an insignificant 
 specimen compared to the Persian beauty hang- 
 ing over Marjorie's arm. 
 
 "It's a dear kitten," Molly went on. "Her name 
 is Blackberry. Don't you like her?" 
 
 "Yes," said Marjorie, a little doubtfully; "per- 
 haps she can be company for Puff. This is my 
 Puff." Marjorie held up her cat, but the two 
 animals showed very little interest in one an- 
 other. 
 
 "Let's put them to sleep somewhere," said 
 Molly, "and then go and play in the loft." 
 
 The kittens were soon deposited in the warm 
 kitchen, and the two girls ran back to the barn
 
 40 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 for a good play. Marjorie had already begun to 
 like Molly, though she seemed rather queer at 
 first, but after they had climbed the ladder to 
 the warm sweet-smelling hay-loft, they grew better 
 acquainted, and were soon chattering away like 
 old friends. 
 
 Molly was not at all like Stella Martin. 
 Far from being timid, she was recklessly dar- 
 ing, and very ingenious in the devising of mis- 
 chief. 
 
 "I'll tell you what, Mopsy," she said, having 
 already adopted Marjorie's nickname, "let's climb 
 out of the window, that skylight window, I mean, 
 onto the roof of the barn, and slide down. It's 
 a lovely long slide." 
 
 "We'll slide off!" exclaimed Marjorie, aghast 
 at this proposition. 
 
 "Oh, no, we won't; there's a ledge at the edge 
 of the roof, and your heels catch that, and that 
 stops you. You can't go any further." 
 
 "How do you get back?" 
 
 "Why, scramble back up the roof, you know. 
 Come on, it's lots of fun."
 
 ON THE ROOF 41 
 
 "I don't believe Grandma would like it," said 
 Marjorie, a little doubtfully. 
 
 "Oh, pshaw, you're afraid; there's no danger. 
 Come on and try it, anyhow." 
 
 Now Marjorie did not like to be called afraid, 
 for she really had very little fear in her disposi- 
 tion. So she said: "Well, I'll go up the ladder 
 and look out, and if it looks dangerous I won't 
 do it," 
 
 "Not a bit of danger," declared Molly. "I'll go 
 up first." 
 
 Agile as a sprite, Molly quickly skipped up 
 the ladder, and opened the trap-door in the barn 
 roof. Sticking her head up through, she soon 
 drew her thin little body up after it and called to 
 Marjorie to follow. Marjorie was a much heavier 
 child, but she sturdily climbed the ladder, and then 
 with some difficulty clambered out on the roof. 
 
 "Isn't it gay?" cried Molly, and exhilarated by 
 the lofty height, the novel position, and the excite- 
 ment of the moment, Marjorie thought it was. 
 
 "Now," went on Molly, by way of instruction, 
 "sit down beside me right here at the top. Hang
 
 4* MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 on with your hands until I count three and 
 then let go, and we'll slide straight down the 
 roof." 
 
 Marjorie obeyed directions, and sat waiting 
 with a delightful feeling of expectancy. 
 
 "One, two, three!" counted Molly, and at the 
 last word the two girls let go their grasp and 
 slid. 
 
 Swiftly and lightly the slender little Molly 
 slid to the gutter of the eaves of the roof, caught 
 by her heels, and stopped suddenly, leaning 
 against the slanted roof, comfortably at her ease. 
 
 Not so Marjorie. She came swiftly down, and, 
 all unaccustomed to motion of this sort, her feet 
 struck the gutter, her solid little body bounced 
 up into the air, and instead of falling backward 
 again, she gave a frightened convulsive move- 
 ment, and fell headlong to the ground. 
 
 Quick as a flash, Molly, when she saw what 
 had happened, scrambled back up the roof with 
 a wonderful agility, and let herself down through 
 the skylight, and down the ladder like lightning. 
 She rushed out of the barn, to where Marjorie lay,
 
 ON THE ROOF 43 
 
 and reached her before Carter did, though he 
 came running at the first sounds of Marjorie's 
 screams. 
 
 "I'm not hurt much," said Marjorie, trying to 
 be brave ; "if you'll help me, Carter, I think I can 
 walk to the house." 
 
 "Walk nothin'," growled Carter; "it's Miss 
 Mischief you are for sure! I thought you had 
 outgrown your wild ways, but you're just as bad 
 as ever ! What'll your grandma say ?" 
 
 Molly stood by, decidedly scared. She didn't 
 know how badly Marjorie was hurt, and she 
 longed to comfort her, and tell her how sorry she 
 was that she had urged her to this mischief, but 
 Carter gave her no opportunity to speak. In- 
 deed, it was all she could do to keep up with the 
 gardener's long strides, as he carried Marjorie 
 to the house. But Molly was no coward, and she 
 bravely determined to go to the house with them, 
 and confess to Mrs. Sherwood that she was to 
 blame for the accident. 
 
 But when they reached the door, and Grandma 
 Sherwood came out to meet them, she was so
 
 44 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 anxious and worried about Marjorie that she paid 
 little attention to Molly's efforts at explanation. 
 
 "What are you trying to say, child?" she asked 
 hastily of Molly, who was stammering out an 
 incoherent speech. "Well, never mind; whatever 
 you have to say, I don't want to hear it now. You 
 run right straight home ; and if you want to come 
 over to-morrow to see how Marjorie is, you may, 
 but I can't have you bothering around here new. 
 So run home." 
 
 And Molly ran hoc.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A PAPEE-DOLL HOUSE 
 
 THE result of Marjorie's fall from the roof was 
 a sprained ankle. It wasn't a bad sprain, but 
 the doctor said she must stay in bed for several 
 days. 
 
 "But I don't mind very much," said Marjorie, 
 who persisted in looking on the bright side of 
 everything, "for it will give me a chance to enjoy 
 this beautiful room better. But, Grandma, I 
 can't quite make out whether I was disobedient 
 or not. You never told me not to slide down the 
 roof, did you?" 
 
 "No, Marjorie; but your common-sense ought 
 to have told you that. I should have forbidden it 
 if I had thought there was the slightest danger 
 of your doing such a thing. You really ought 
 to have known better." 
 
 46
 
 46 
 
 Grandma's tone was severe, for though she was 
 sorry for the child she felt that Marjorie had 
 done wrong, and ought to be reproved. 
 
 Marjorie's brow wrinkled in her efforts to think 
 out the matter. 
 
 "Grandma," she said, "then must I obey every 
 rule that you would make if you thought of it, 
 and how shall I know what they are?" 
 
 Grandma smiled. "As I tell you Midget, you 
 must use your common-sense and reason in such 
 matters. If you make mistakes the experience 
 will help you to learn; but I am sure a child 
 twelve years old ought to know better than to 
 slide down a steep barn roof. But I suppose Molly 
 put you up to it, and so it wasn't your fault 
 exactly." 
 
 "Molly did suggest it, Grandma, but that does- 
 n't make her the one to blame, for I didn't have to 
 do as she said, did I?" 
 
 "No, Midge ; and Molly has behaved very nicely 
 about it. She came over here, and confessed that 
 she had been the ringleader in the mischief, and 
 said she was sorry for it. So you were both to
 
 A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE 47 
 
 blame, but I think it has taught you a lesson, 
 and I don't believe you'll ever cut up that particu- 
 lar trick again. But you certainly needn't be pun- 
 ished for it, for I think the consequences of hav- 
 ing to stay in bed for nearly a week will be pun- 
 ishment enough. So now we're through with that 
 part of the subject, and I'm going to do all I can 
 to make your imprisonment as easy for you as 
 possible." 
 
 It was in the early morning that this conversa- 
 tion had taken place, and Grandma had brought 
 a basin of fresh, cool water and bathed the little 
 girl's face and hands, and had brushed out her 
 curls and tied them up with a pretty pink bow. 
 
 Then Jane came with a dainty tray, containing 
 just the things Marjorie liked best for breakfast, 
 and adorned with a spray of fresh roses. Grand- 
 ma drew a table to the bedside and piled pillows 
 behind Marjorie's back until she was quite com- 
 fortable. 
 
 "I feel like a queen, Grandma," she said; "if 
 this is what you call punishment I don't mind it 
 a bit."
 
 48 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "That's all very well for one day, but wait until 
 you have been here four or five days. You'll get 
 tired of playing queen by that time." 
 
 "Well, it's fun now, anyway," said Marjorie, as 
 she ate strawberries and cream with great relish. 
 
 After breakfast Jane tidied up the room, and 
 Marjorie, arrayed in a little pink kimono, pre- 
 pared to spend the day in bed. Grandma brought 
 her books to read and writing materials to write 
 letters home, and Marjorie assured her that she 
 could occupy herself pleasantly. 
 
 So Grandma went away and left her alone. The 
 first thing Marjorie did was to write a letter to her 
 mother, telling her all about the accident. She 
 had thought she would write a letter to each of 
 the children at home, but she discovered to her 
 surprise that it wasn't very easy to write sitting 
 up in bed. Her arms became cramped, and as 
 she could not move her injured ankle her whole 
 body grew stiff and uncomfortable. So she de- 
 cided to read. After she had read what seemed a 
 long time, she found that that, too, was difficult 
 under the circumstances. With a little sigh she
 
 A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE 49 
 
 turned herself as well as she could and looked at 
 the clock. To her amazement, only an hour had 
 elapsed since Grandma left her, and for the first 
 time the little girl realized what it meant to be 
 deprived of the free use of her limbs. 
 
 "Only ten o'clock," she thought to herself; 
 "and dinner isn't until one!" 
 
 Not that Marjorie was hungry, but like all the 
 invalids she looked forward to meal-times as a 
 pleasant diversion. 
 
 But about this time Grandma reappeared to 
 say that Molly had come over to see her. 
 
 Marjorie was delighted, and welcomed Molly 
 gladly. 
 
 "I'm awful sorry," the little visitor began, 
 "that I made you slide down the roof." 
 
 "You didn't make me do it," said Marjorie, 
 "it was my fault quite as much as yours; and, 
 anyway, it isn't a very bad sprain. I'll be out 
 again in a few days, and then we can play some 
 more. But we'll keep down on the ground, we 
 can't fall off of that." 
 
 "I thought you might like to play some games
 
 50 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 this morning," Molly suggested, "so I brought 
 over my jackstraws and my Parcheesi board." 
 
 "Splendid!" cried Marjorie, delighted to have 
 new entertainment. 
 
 In a few moments Molly had whisked things 
 about, and arranged the jackstraws on a small 
 table near the bed. But Marjorie could not reach 
 them very well, so Molly changed her plan. 
 
 "I'll fix it," she said, and laying the Parcheesi 
 board on the bed, she climbed up herself, and sit- 
 ting cross-legged like a little Turk, she tossed the 
 jackstraws out on the flat bard, and the game 
 began in earnest. 
 
 They had a jolly time and followed the jack- 
 straws with a game of Parcheesi. 
 
 Then Jane came up with some freshly baked 
 cookies and two glasses of milk. 
 
 "Why, how the time has flown!" cried Mar- 
 jorie, "it's half -past eleven, and it doesn't seem 
 as if you'd been here more than five minutes, 
 Molly." 
 
 "I didn't think it was so late, either," and then 
 the two girls did full justice to the little luncheon,
 
 A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE 51 
 
 while the all-useful Parchcesi board served as a 
 table. 
 
 "Now," said Marjorie, when the last crumbs 
 had disappeared, "let's mix up the two games. 
 The jackstraws will be people, and your family 
 can live in that corner of the Parcheesi board, 
 and mine will live in this. The other two corners 
 will be strangers' houses, and the red counters 
 can live in one and the blue counters in the other. 
 This place in the middle will be a park, and these 
 dice can be deer in the park." 
 
 "Oh, what fun!" cried Molly, who was not as 
 ingenious as Marjorie at making up games, but 
 who was appreciative enough to enter into the 
 spirit of it at once. 
 
 They became so absorbed in this new sort of 
 play that again the time flew and it was dinner- 
 time before they knew it. 
 
 Grandma did not invite Molly to stay to dinner, 
 for she thought Marjorie ought to rest, but she 
 asked the little neighbor to come again the next 
 morning and continue their game. 
 
 After dinner Grandma darkened the room and
 
 52 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 left Marjorie to rest by herself, and the result 
 of this was a long and refreshing nap. 
 
 When she awoke, Grandma appeared again with 
 fresh water and towels, and her afternoon toilet 
 was made. Marjorie laughed to think that dress- 
 ing for afternoon meant only putting on a differ- 
 ent kimono, for dresses were not to be thought of 
 with a sprained ankle. 
 
 And then Uncle Steve came in. 
 
 Uncle Steve was always like a ray of sunshine, 
 but he seemed especially bright and cheery just 
 now. 
 
 "Well, Midget Mops," he said, "you have cut 
 up a pretty trick, haven't you? Here, just as I 
 wanted to take you driving, and walking in the 
 woods, and boating, and fishing, and perhaps bal- 
 looning, and airshipping, and maybe skating, here 
 you go and get yourself laid up so you can't 
 do anything but eat and sleep! You're a nice 
 Midget, you are! What's the use of having an 
 Uncle Steve if you can't play with him?" 
 
 "Just you wait," cried Marjorie; "I'm not go- 
 ing to be in bed more than a few days, and I'm
 
 A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE 53 
 
 going to stay here all summer. There'll be plenty 
 of time for your fishing and skating yet." 
 
 "But unless I get you pretty soon, I'll pine 
 away with grief. And everybody out on the farm 
 is lonesome for you. The horses, Ned and Dick, 
 had made up their minds to take you on long 
 drives along the mountain roads where the wild 
 flowers bloom. They can't understand why you 
 don't come out, and they stand in their stalls 
 weeping, with great tears rolling down their 
 cheeks." 
 
 Marjorie laughed gayly at Uncle Steve's fool- 
 ery, and said : "If they're weeping so you'd better 
 take them some of my pocket handkerchiefs." 
 
 "Too small," said Uncle Steve, scornfully ; "one 
 of your little handkerchiefs would get lost in 
 Dick's eye or Ned's ear. And old Betsy is weep- 
 ing for you too. Really, you'll have to get around 
 soon, or those three horses will run away, I fear." 
 
 "What about the cow ; does she miss me ?" asked 
 Marjorie, gravely, though her eyes were twin- 
 kling. 
 
 "The cow !" exclaimed Uncle Steve. "She stands
 
 54 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 by the fence with her head on the top rail, and 
 moos so loud that I should think you could hear 
 her yourself. She calls 'Mopsy, Mopsy, Moo,' 
 from morning till night. And the chickens ! Well, 
 the incubator is full of desolate chickens. They 
 won't eat their meal, and they just peep mourn- 
 fully, and stretch their little wings trying to fly 
 to you." 
 
 "And the dogs?" prompted Marjorie. 
 
 "Oh, the dogs they howl and yowl and growl 
 all the time. I think I'll have to bring the whole 
 crowd of animals up here. They're so anxious 
 to see you." 
 
 "Do, Uncle Steve. I'd be glad to see them, and 
 I'm sure they'd behave nicely." 
 
 "I think so. The cow could sit in that little 
 rocking-chair, and the three horses could sit on 
 the couch, side by side. And then we could all 
 have afternoon tea." 
 
 Marjorie shook with laughter at the thought 
 of the cow sitting up and drinking afternoon tea, 
 until Uncle Steve declared that if she laughed so 
 hard she'd sprain her other ankle. So he said he
 
 A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE 55 
 
 would read to her, and selecting a book of fairy 
 tales, he read aloud all the rest of the afternoon. 
 It was delightful to hear Uncle Steve read, for 
 he would stop now and then to discuss the story, 
 or he would put in some funny little jokes of his 
 own, and he made it all so amusing and enter- 
 taining that the afternoon flew by as if on wings. 
 
 Then Jane came again with the pretty tray of 
 supper, and after that Grandma and Marjorie 
 had a nice little twilight talk, and then the little 
 girl was tucked up for the night, and soon fell 
 asleep. 
 
 When she woke the next morning and lay 
 quietly in bed thinking over of the events of the 
 day before, she came to the conclusion that every- 
 body had been very kind to her, but that she 
 couldn't expect so much attention every day. So 
 she made up her mind that when she had to spend 
 hours alone, she would try to be good and patient 
 and not trouble Grandma more than she could 
 help. 
 
 Then she thought of the written list her mother 
 had given her. She smiled to think how easy it
 
 56 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 was now to keep those commands. "Of course," 
 she thought, "I can keep my hands clean and my 
 hair tidy here, for Grandma looks after that her- 
 self; and, of course, I can't help obeying her 
 while I'm here, for she doesn't command me to do 
 anything, and I couldn't do it if she did." 
 
 Molly came again that morning, and as Grand- 
 ma had asked her to stay to dinner with Marjorie, 
 the girls prepared for a good morning's play. 
 
 It was astonishing how many lovely things there 
 were to play, even when one of the players couldn't 
 move about. 
 
 Molly had brought over her paper-doll's house, 
 and as it was quite different from anything Mar- 
 jorie had ever seen before, she wondered if she 
 couldn't make one for herself, and so double the 
 fun of tJie game. 
 
 Grandma was consulted, but it was Uncle Steve 
 who brought them the necessary materials to 
 carry out their plan. 
 
 A paper-doll's house is quite different from the 
 other kind of a doll's house, and Molly's was made 
 of a large blankbook.
 
 A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE 57 
 
 So Uncle Steve brought a blankbook almost 
 exactly like it for Marjorie, and then he brought 
 her scissors, and paste, and several catalogues 
 which had come from the great shops in the city. 
 He brought, too, a pile of magazines and papers, 
 which were crammed full of illustrated advertise- 
 ments. 
 
 The two little girls set busily to work, and soon 
 they had cut out a quantity of chairs, tables, 
 beds, and furniture of all sorts from the pictured 
 pages. 
 
 These they pasted in the book. Each page was 
 a room, and in the room were arranged appropri- 
 ate furniture and ornaments. 
 
 The parlor had beautiful and elaborate furni- 
 ture, rugs, pictures, bric-a-brac, and even lace 
 curtains at the windows. The library had beauti- 
 ful bookcases, writing-desk, reading-table and a 
 lamp, easy-chairs, and everything that belongs in 
 a well-ordered library. 
 
 The dining-room was fully furnished, and the 
 kitchen contained everything necessary to the sat- 
 isfaction of the most exacting cook.
 
 58 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 The bedrooms were beautiful with dainty brass 
 beds, chintz-covered furniture, and dressing- 
 tables fitted out with all sorts of toilet equipments. 
 
 All of these things were found in the catalogues 
 and the magazine advertisements ; and in addi- 
 tion to the rooms mentioned^ there were halls, a 
 nursery, playroom, and pleasant verandas fitted 
 up with hammocks and porch furniture. 
 
 Of course it required some imagination to think 
 that these rooms were in the shape of a house, 
 and not just leaves of a book, but both Midge 
 and Molly had plenty of imagination, and besides 
 it was very practical fun to cut out the things, 
 and arrange them in their places. Sometimes it 
 was necessary to use a pencil to draw in any 
 necessary article that might be missing; but usu- 
 ally everything desired could be found, from 
 potted palms to a baby carriage. 
 
 Marjorie grew absorbed in the work, for she 
 dearly loved to make things, and her ingenuity 
 suggested many improvements on Molly's orig- 
 inal house.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 SOME INTEEESTING LETTEES 
 
 THE family for the paper-doll house was selected 
 from the catalogues that illustrate ready-made 
 clothing. Beautiful gentlemen were cut out, 
 dressed in the most approved fashions for men. 
 Charming ladies with trailing skirts and elabo- 
 rate hats were found in plenty. And children of 
 all ages were so numerous in the prints that it 
 was almost difficult to make a selection. Then, too, 
 extra hats and wraps and parasols were cut out, 
 which could be neatly put away in the cupboards 
 and wardrobes which were in the house. For 
 Marjorie had discovered that by pasting only the 
 edges of the wardrobe and carefully cutting the 
 doors apart, they could be made to open and shut 
 beautifully. 
 
 Uncle Stere became very much interested in 
 59
 
 60 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 these wonderful houses, and ransacked his own 
 library for pictures to be cut up. 
 
 Indeed, so elaborate did the houses grow 
 to be, Molly's being greatly enlarged and im- 
 proved, that they could not be finished in one 
 morning. 
 
 But Grandma was not willing to let Marjorie 
 work steadily at this occupation all day, and after 
 dinner Molly was sent home, and the paper dolls 
 put away until the next day. 
 
 "But I'm not ill. Grandma," said Marjorie; 
 "just having a sprained ankle doesn't make me 
 a, really, truly invalid." 
 
 "No, but you must rest, or you will get ill. 
 Fever may set in, and if you get over-excited w ith 
 your play, and have no exercise, you may be in 
 bed longer than you think for. Besides, I think 
 I remember having heard something about im- 
 plicit obedience, and so I expect it now as well as 
 when you're up on your two feet." 
 
 "I don't think I can help obeying," said Mar- 
 jorie, roguishly, "for I can't very well do any- 
 thing else. But I suppose you mean obey with-
 
 61 
 
 out fretting; so I will, for you are a dear, good 
 Grandma and awfully kind to me." 
 
 With a parting pat on her shoulder, Grandma 
 left the little girl for her afternoon nap, and 
 Marjorie would have been surprised at herself 
 had she known how quickly she fell asleep. 
 
 Uncle Steve made it a habit to entertain her 
 during the later hours of each afternoon, and, 
 although they were already great chums, his gay- 
 ety and kindness made Marjorie more than ever 
 devoted to her uncle. 
 
 This afternoon he came in with a handful of 
 letters. 
 
 "These are all for you," he said; "it is aston- 
 ishing what a large correspondence you have." 
 
 Marjorie was amazed. She took the budget of 
 letters her uncle handed her and counted five. 
 They were all duly stamped, and all were post- 
 marked, but the postmarks all read Haslemere. 
 
 "How funny!" exclaimed Marjorie; "I didn't 
 know there was a post office at Haslemere." 
 
 "You didn't!" jexclaimed Uncle Steve; "why, 
 there certainly is. Do you mean to say that you
 
 62 
 
 don't know that there's a little post office in the 
 lowest branch of that old maple-tree down by the 
 brook?" 
 
 "You mean just where the path turns to go to 
 the garden?" 
 
 "That's the very spot. Only this morning I 
 was walking by there, and I saw a small post office 
 in the tree. There was a key in the door of it, 
 and being curious, I opened it, and looked in. 
 There I saw five letters for you, and as you're 
 not walking much this summer, I thought I'd 
 bring them to you. I brought the key, too." 
 
 As he finished speaking, Uncle Steve drew from 
 his pocket a little bright key hung on a blue rib- 
 bon, which he gravely presented to Marjorie. Her 
 eyes danced as she took it, for she now believed 
 there was really a post office there, though it was 
 sometimes difficult to distinguish Uncle Steve's 
 nonsense from the truth. 
 
 "Now I'm more than ever anxious to get well," 
 she cried, "and go out to see that post office." 
 
 "Oh, no," said Uncle Steve, shaking his head; 
 you don't care about jaoM offices,, ad waike in* 
 
 "
 
 63 
 
 the woods, and drives through the country. You'd 
 rather slide down an old barn roof, and then lie 
 in bed for a week." 
 
 "Catch me doing it again," said Marjorie, 
 shaking her head decidedly; "and now, Uncle, 
 suppose we open these letters." 
 
 "Why, that wouldn't be a bad idea. Here's a 
 paper-cutter. Let's open one at a time, they'll 
 last longer. Suppose you read this one first." 
 
 Marjorie opened the first letter, and quickly 
 turned the page to see the signature. 
 
 "Why, Uncle Steve," she cried, "this is signed 
 Ned and Dick! I didn't know horses could write 
 letters." 
 
 "There are a great many things, my child, that 
 you don't know yet. And so Ned and Dick have 
 written to you! Now that's very kind of them. 
 Read me what they say." 
 
 In great glee, Marjorie read aloud: 
 
 "DEAR MARJORIE: 
 
 It is too bad 
 For you to act this way; 
 Just think what fun we might have had 
 Out driving every day.
 
 64 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "We could have gone to Blossom Banks, 
 
 Or Maple Grove instead; 
 But no, you had to cut up pranks 
 That landed you in bed! 
 
 "We hope you'll soon be well again, 
 
 And get downstairs right quick; 
 And we will all go driving then. 
 Your true friends, 
 
 NED AKD DICK." 
 
 "Well, I do declare," said Uncle Steve, "I al- 
 ways said they were intelligent horses, but this 
 is the first time I've ever heard of their writing 
 a letter. They must be very fond of you, Mar- 
 jorie." 
 
 Marjorie's eyes twinkled. She well knew Uncle 
 Steve had written the letter himself, but she was 
 always ready to carry out her part of a joke, 
 so she replied: 
 
 "Yes, I think they must be fond of me, and I 
 think I know somebody else who is, too. But it 
 was nice of Ned and Dick to write and let me know 
 that they hadn't forgotten me. And as soon as 
 I can get downstairs, I shall be delighted to go
 
 SOME INTERESTING LETTERS 65 
 
 driving with them. Where is Blossom Banks, 
 Uncle?" 
 
 "Oh, it's a lovely place, a sort of picnic ground ; 
 there are several grassy banks, and blossoms grow 
 all over them. They slope right down to the 
 river; but, of course, you wouldn't think them 
 nearly so nice as a sloping barn roof." 
 
 Marjorie knew she must stand teasing from 
 Uncle Steve, but his smile was so good-natured, 
 and he was such a dear old uncle anyway, that 
 she didn't mind it very much. 
 
 "Suppose I read another letter," she said, quite 
 ready to turn the subject. 
 
 "Do; open that one with the typewritten ad- 
 dress. I wonder who could have written that! 
 Perhaps the cow; she's very agile on the type- 
 writer." 
 
 The mental picture of the cow using the type- 
 writer produced such hilarity that it was a few 
 moments before the letter was opened. 
 
 "It is from the cow!" exclaimed Marjorie, "and 
 she does write beautifully on the machine. I don't 
 see a single error."
 
 66 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Read it out, Midge ; I always love to hear let- 
 ters from cows." 
 
 So Marjorie read the cow's note: 
 
 "Mopsy Midge, come out to play; 
 I've waited for you all the day. 
 In the Garden and by the brook, 
 All day for you I vainly look. 
 With anxious brow and gaze intense 
 I lean against the old rail fence, 
 And moo and moo, and raoo, and moo, 
 In hopes I may be heard by you. 
 And if I were not so forlorn, 
 I think I'd try to blow my horn. 
 Oh, come back, Midget, come back now, 
 And cheer your lonely, waiting 
 
 Cow." 
 
 "Now, that's a first-class letter," declared 
 Uncle Steve. "I always thought that cow was 
 a poet. She looks so romantic when she gazes out 
 over the bars. You ought to be pleased, Marjorie, 
 that you have such loving friends at Haslemere." 
 
 "Pleased! I'm tickled to death! I never had 
 letters that I liked so well. And just think, I 
 have three left yet that I haven't opened. I won- 
 der who they can be from." 
 
 "When you wonder a thing like that, it always
 
 SOME INTERESTING LETTERS 67 
 
 seems to me a good idea to open them and find 
 out." 
 
 "I just do believe I will! Why, this one," and 
 Marjorie hastily tore open another letter, "this 
 one, Uncle, is from old Bet !" 
 
 "Betsy ! That old horse ! Well, she must have 
 put on her spectacles to see to write it. But I 
 suppose when she saw Ned and Dick writing, she 
 didn't want them to get ahead of her, so she went 
 to work too. Well, do read it, I'm surely inter- 
 ested to hear old Betsy's letter." 
 
 "Listen then," said Marjorie: 
 
 "DEAR LITTLE MIDGE: 
 
 I'm lonesome here, 
 
 Without your merry smiles to cheer. 
 I mope around the livelong day, 
 And scarcely care to munch my hay. 
 I am so doleful and so sad, 
 I really do feel awful bad! 
 Oh hurry, Midge, and come back soon;, 
 Perhaps to-morrow afternoon. 
 And then my woe I will forget, 
 And smile again. 
 
 Your lonesome 
 
 "Well, she is an affectionate old thing," said 
 Uncle Steve; "and truly, Midget, I thought she
 
 68 
 
 was feeling lonesome this morning. She didn't 
 seem to care to eat anything, and she never smiled 
 at me at all." 
 
 "She's a good old horse, Uncle, but I don't like 
 her as much as I do Ned and Dick. But don't 
 ever tell Betsy this, for I wouldn't hurt her feel- 
 ings for anything." 
 
 "Oh, yes, just because Ned and Dick are spir- 
 ited, fast horses you like them better than poor, 
 old Betsy, who used to haul you around when you 
 were a baby." 
 
 "Oh, I like her well enough; and, anyway, I 
 think a heap more of her now, since she wrote me 
 such an affectionate letter. Now, Uncle, if you'll 
 believe it, this next one is from the chickens ! 
 Would you have believed that little bits of yellow 
 chickens, in an incubator, could write a nice, clear 
 letter like this? I do think it's wonderful! Just 
 listen to it: 
 
 "DEAR MOPSY: 
 
 Why 
 
 Are you away? 
 We weep and cry 
 All through the day.
 
 SOME INTERESTING LETTERS 69 
 
 "Oh, come back quick, 
 
 Dear Mopsy Mop ! 
 Then each small chick 
 Will gayly hop. 
 
 "We'll chirp with glee, 
 No more we'll weep; 
 Each chickadee 
 Will loudly peep." 
 
 "Well, that's certainly fine, Midget, for such 
 little chickens. If it were the old hen, now, I 
 wouldn't be so surprised, for I see her scratching 
 on the ground every day. I suppose she's prac- 
 tising her writing lesson, but I never yet have been 
 able to read the queer marks she makes. But 
 these little yellow chickadees write plainly enough, 
 and I do think they are wonderfully clever." 
 
 "Yes, and isn't it funny that they can rhyme so 
 well, too?" 
 
 "It is, indeed. I always said those Plymouth 
 Rocks were the smartest chickens of all, but I 
 never suspected they could write poetry." 
 
 "And now, Uncle, I've only one left." Marjorie 
 looked regretfully at the last letter, wishing there 
 were H, do/en more. "But I can keep them and
 
 70 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 read them over and over again, I like them so 
 much. I'd answer them, but I don't believe those 
 animals read as well as they write." 
 
 "No," said Uncle Steve, wagging his head 
 sagely, "I don't believe they do. Well, read your 
 last one, Mops, and let's see who wrote it." 
 
 "Why, Uncle, it's from the dogs! It's signed 
 'Nero and Tray and Rover' ! Weren't they just 
 darling to write to me ! I believe I miss the dogs 
 more than anything else, because I can have Puffy 
 up here with me." 
 
 Marjorie paused long enough to cuddle the 
 little heap of grey fur that lay on the counter- 
 pane beside her, and then proceeded to read the 
 
 letter: 
 
 "DearMopsy Midget, 
 
 We're in a fidget, 
 Because we cannot find you; 
 We want to know 
 How you could go 
 And leave your dogs behind you! 
 
 "We bark and howl, 
 
 And snarl and yowl, 
 And growl the whole day long; 
 
 You are not here, 
 
 And, Mopsy dear, 
 We fear there's something wrong !
 
 SOME INTERESTING LETTERS H 
 
 "We haven't heard; 
 
 Oh, send us word 
 Whatever is the matter ! 
 
 Oh, hurry up 
 
 And cheer each pup 
 With laughter and gay chatter.'' 
 
 "That's a very nice letter," said Marjorie, as 
 she folded it up and returned it to its envelope. 
 "And I do think the animals at Haslemere are the 
 most intelligent I have ever known. Uncle, I'm 
 going to send these letters all down home for King 
 and Kitty to read, and then they can send them 
 back to me, for I'm going to keep them all my 
 life." 
 
 "I'll tell you a better plan than that, Midget. 
 If you want the children to read them, I'll make 
 copies of them for you to send home. And then 
 I'll tell you what you might do, if you like. When 
 I go downtown I'll buy you a great big scrap- 
 book, and then you can paste these letters in, and 
 as the summer goes on, you can paste in all sorts 
 of things; pressed leaves or flowers, pictures and 
 letters, and souvenirs of all sorts. Won't that be 
 nice?"
 
 72 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Uncle Steve, it will be perfectly lovely! You 
 do have the splendidest ideas ! Will you get the 
 book to-morrow?" 
 
 "Yes, Miss Impatience, I will." 
 
 And that night, Marjorie fell asleep while 
 thinking of all the lovely things she could collect 
 to put in the bock, which Uncle Steve had told 
 her she must call her Memory Book.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 BOO! 
 
 THE days of Marjorie's imprisonment went by 
 pleasantly enough. Every morning Molly would 
 come over, and they played with their paper-doll 
 houses. These houses continually grew in size and 
 beauty. Each girl added a second book, which 
 represented grounds and gardens. There were 
 fountains, and flowerbeds and trees and shrubs, 
 which they cut from florists' catalogues; other 
 pages were barns and stables, and chicken-coops, 
 all filled with most beautiful specimens of the ani- 
 mals that belonged in them. There were vegeta- 
 ble gardens and grape arbors and greenhouses, 
 for Uncle Steve had become so interested in this 
 game that he brought the children wonderful addi- 
 tions to their collections. 
 
 It was quite as much fun to arrange the houses 
 78
 
 74 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 and grounds as it was to play with them, and each 
 new idea was hailed with shrieks of delight. 
 
 Molly often grew so excited that she upset the 
 paste-pot, and her scraps and cuttings flew far 
 and wide, but good-natured Jane was always ready 
 to clear up after the children. Jane had been 
 with Mrs. Sherwood for many years, and Mar- 
 jorie was her favorite of all the grandchildren, 
 and she was never too tired to wait upon her. 
 She, too, hunted up old books and papers that 
 might contain some contributions to the paper-doll 
 houses. But afternoons were always devoted to 
 rest, until four or five o'clock, when Uncle Steve 
 came to pay Ivs daily visit. 
 
 One afternoon he came in with a fresh budget of 
 letters. 
 
 "Letters!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Goody! I 
 haven't had any ( letters for two days. Please 
 give them to me, Uncle, and please give me a 
 paper-cutter." 
 
 "Midge," said Uncle Steve, "if you think these 
 are letters, you're very much mistaken. They're 
 not."
 
 BOO! 75 
 
 "What are they, then?" asked Marjorie, 
 greatly mystified, for they certainly looked like 
 letters, and were sealed and stamped. 
 
 "As I've often told you, it's a good plan to 
 open them and see." 
 
 Laughing in anticipation at what she knew 
 must be some new joke of Uncle Steve's, Marjorie 
 cut the envelopes open. 
 
 The first contained, instead of a sheet of paper, 
 a small slip, on which was written: 
 
 "If you think this a letter, you're much mistook; 
 It's only a promise of a 
 
 New 
 
 Book!" 
 
 "Well," said Marjorie, 'that's just as good as 
 a letter, for if you promise me a book, I know 
 I'll get it. Oh, Uncle, you are such a duck ! Now 
 I'll read the next one." 
 
 The next one was a similar slip, and said : 
 
 "This isn't a letter, though like one it seems; 
 It's only a promise of Chocolate Creams!" 
 
 "Oh!" cried Marjorie, ecstatically, "this is just
 
 76 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 too much fun for anything! Do you mean real 
 chocolate creams, Uncle?" 
 
 "Oh, these are only promises. Very likely they 
 don't mean anything." 
 
 "Your promises do; you've never broken one 
 yet. Now I'll read another: 
 
 "This isn't a letter, dear Marjorie Mops, 
 It's only a promise of Peppermint Drops !" 
 
 "Every one is nicer than the last! And now 
 for the very last one of all!" 
 
 Marjorie cut open the fourth envelope, and 
 read: 
 
 "Dear Mopsy Midget, this isn't a letter; 
 Ifs only a promise of something much better !" 
 
 "Why, it doesn't say what!" exclaimed Midge, 
 but even as she spoke, Jane came into the room 
 bringing a tray. 
 
 She set it on the table at Marjorie's bedside, 
 and Marjorie gave a scream of delight when she 
 saw a cut-glass bowl heaped high with pink ice 
 cream.
 
 BOO ! 77 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Steve !" she cried, "the ice cream is 
 the 'something better,' I know it is, and those 
 other parcels are the other three promises ! Can 
 I open them now?" 
 
 Almost without waiting for her question to be 
 answered, Marjorie tore off papers and strings, 
 and found, as she fully expected, a box of choco- 
 late creams, a box of peppermint drops, and a 
 lovely new story book. 
 
 Then Grandma came in to their tea party and 
 they all ate the ice cream, and Marjorie declared 
 it was the loveliest afternoon tea she had ever 
 attended. 
 
 Even Puff was allowed to have a small saucer of 
 the ice cream, for she was a very dainty kitten, 
 and her table manners were quite those of polite 
 society. 
 
 But the next afternoon Uncle Steve was 
 obliged to go to town, and Marjorie felt quite 
 disconsolate at the loss of the jolly afternoon 
 hour. 
 
 But kind-hearted Grandma planned a pleasure 
 for her, and told her she would invite both Stella
 
 78 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Martin and Molly to come to tea with Marjorie 
 from four till five. 
 
 Marjorie had not seen Stella since the day they 
 came up together on the train, and the little girls 
 were glad to meet again. Stella and Molly were 
 about as different as two children could be, for 
 while Molly was headstrong, energetic, and mis- 
 chievous, Stella was timid, quiet, and demure. 
 
 Both Marjorie and Molly were very quick in 
 their actions, but Stella was naturally slow and 
 deliberate. When they played games, Stella took 
 as long to make her move as Molly and Midge to- 
 gether. This made them a little impatient, but 
 Stella only opened her big blue eyes in wonder and 
 said, "I can't do things any faster." So they 
 soon tired of playing games, and showed Stella 
 their paper-dolls' houses. Here they were the 
 surprised ones, for Stella was an adept at paper 
 dolls and knew how to draw and cut out lovely 
 dolls, and told Marjorie that if she had a paint- 
 box she could paint them. 
 
 "I wish you would come over some other day, 
 Stella, and do it," said Midge ; "for I know Uncle
 
 BOO! 79 
 
 Steve will get me a paint-box if I ask him to, and 
 a lot of brushes, and then we can all paint. Oh, 
 we'll have lots of fun, won't we?" 
 
 "Yes, thank you," said Stella, sedately. 
 
 Marjorie giggled outright. 'It seems so 
 funny," she said, by way of explanation, "to have 
 you say 'yes, thank you* to us children ; I only say 
 it to grown people ; don't you, Molly ?" 
 
 "I don't say it at all," confessed Molly; "I 
 mean to, but I 'most always forget. It's awful 
 hard for me to remember manners. But it seems 
 to come natural to Stella." 
 
 Stella looked at her, but said nothing. She was 
 a very quiet child, and somehow she exasperated 
 Marjorie. Perhaps she would not have done so 
 had they all been out of doors, playing together, 
 but she sat on a chair by Marjorie's bedside with 
 her hands folded in her lap, and her whole atti- 
 tude so prim that Marjorie couldn't help think- 
 ing to herself that she'd like to stick a pin in her. 
 Of course she wouldn't have done it, really, but 
 Marjorie had a riotous vein of mischief in her, 
 and had little use for excessive quietness of de-
 
 80 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 meaner, except when the company of grown-ups 
 demanded it. 
 
 But Stella seemed not at all conscious that her 
 conduct was different from the others, and she 
 smiled mildly at their rollicking fun, and agreed 
 quietly to their eager enthusiasms. 
 
 At last Jane came in with the tea-tray, and the 
 sight of the crackers and milk, the strawberries 
 and little cakes, created a pleasant diversion. 
 
 Stella sat still in her chair, while Marjorie 
 braced herself up on her pillows, and Molly, who 
 was sitting on the bed, bounced up and down with 
 glee. 
 
 Marjorie was getting much better now, so that 
 she could sit upright and preside over the feast. 
 She served the strawberries for her guests, and 
 poured milk for them from the glass pitcher. 
 
 Molly and Marjorie enjoyed the good things, 
 as they always enjoyed everything, but Stella 
 seemed indifferent even to the delights of straw- 
 berries and cream. 
 
 She sat holding a plate in one hand, and a glass 
 of milk in the other, and showed about as much
 
 BOO! 81 
 
 animation as a marble statue. Even her glance 
 was roving out of the window, and somehow the 
 whole effect of the child was too much for Mar- 
 jorie's spirit of mischief. 
 
 Suddenly, and in a loud voice, she said to Stella, 
 "Boo!" 
 
 This, in itself, was not frightful, but coming 
 so unexpectedly it startled Stella, and she invol- 
 untarily jumped, and her glass and plate fell to 
 the floor with a crash; and strawberries, cakes, 
 and milk fell in a scattered and somewhat un- 
 pleasant disarray. 
 
 Marjorie was horrified at what she had done, 
 but Stella's face, as she viewed the catastrophe, 
 was so comical that Marjorie went off into peals 
 of laughter. Molly joined in this, and the two 
 girls laughed until the bed shook. 
 
 Frightened and nervous at the whole affair, 
 Stella began to cry. And curiously enough, 
 Stella's method of weeping was as noisy as her 
 usual manner was quiet. She cried with such 
 loud, heart-rending sobs that the other girls were 
 frightened into quietness again, until they caught
 
 82 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 sight of Stella's open mouth and tightly-closed 
 but streaming eyes, when hilarity overtook them 
 again. 
 
 Into this distracting scene, came Grandma. 
 She stood looking in amazement at the three chil- 
 dren and the debris on the floor. 
 
 At first Mrs. Sherwood naturally thought it an 
 accident due to Stella's carelessness, but Mar- 
 jorie instantly confessed. 
 
 "It's my fault, Grandma," she said; "I scared 
 Stella, and she couldn't help dropping her things." 
 
 "You are a naughty girl, Mischief," said 
 Grandma, as she tried to comfort the weeping 
 Stella. "I thought you would at least be polite to 
 your little guests, or I shouldn't have given you 
 this tea party." 
 
 "I'm awfully sorry," said Marjorie, contritely; 
 "please forgive me, Stella, but honestly I didn't 
 think it would scare you so. What would you do, 
 Molly, if I said 'boo' to you?" 
 
 "I'd say 'boo yourself !" returned Molly, 
 promptly. 
 
 *I know you would," said Marjorie, "but you
 
 BOO ! 83 
 
 see Stella's different, and I ought to have re- 
 membered the difference. Don't cry, Stella; 
 truly I'm sorry ! Don't cry, and I'll give you 
 my my paper-doll's house." 
 
 This was generous on Marjorie's part, for just 
 then her paper-doll's house was her dearest treas- 
 ure. 
 
 But Stella rose to the occasion. 
 
 "I w-wont t-take it," she said, still sobbing, 
 though trying hard to control herself; "it wasn't 
 your fault, Marjorie; I oughtn't to have been 
 so silly as to be scared b-because you said 
 b-boo !" 
 
 By this time Jane had removed all evidences of 
 the accident, and except for a few stains on 
 Stella's frock, everything was in order. 
 
 But Stella, though she had quite forgiven Mar- 
 jorie, was upset by the whole affair, and wanted to 
 go home. 
 
 So Grandma declared she would take the child 
 home herself and apologize to Mrs. Martin for 
 Marjorie's rudeness. 
 
 "It was rude, Marjorie," she said, as she went
 
 84 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 away; "and I think Molly must go home now. 
 and leave you to do a little thinking about your 
 conduct to your other guest." 
 
 So Marjorie was left alone to think, and half 
 an hour later Grandma returned. 
 
 "That was a naughty trick, Marjorie, and I 
 think you ought to be punished for it." 
 
 "But, Grandma," argued Miss Mischief, "I 
 wasn't disobedient; you never told me not to say 
 boo to anybody." 
 
 "But I told you, dear, that you must use your 
 common-sense; and you must have known that to 
 startle Stella by a sudden scream at her was 
 enough to make her drop whatever she was hold- 
 ing." 
 
 "Grandma, I 'spect I was mischievous; but 
 truly, she did look so stiff and pudgy, I just had 
 to make her jump." 
 
 "I know what you mean, Midge; and you have 
 a natural love of mischief, but you must try to 
 overcome it. I want you to grow up polite and 
 kind, and remember those two words mean almost 
 exactly the same thing. You knew it wasn't kind
 
 BOO! 85 
 
 to make Stella jump, even if it hadn't caused 
 her to upset things." 
 
 "No, I know it wasn't, Grandma, and I'm sorry 
 now. But I'll tell you what : whenever Stella comes 
 over here again, I'll try to be specially kind to 
 her, to make up for saying boo!"
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 
 
 GREAT was the rejoicing of the whole household 
 when at last Marjorie was able to come down- 
 stairs once more. 
 
 Uncle Steve assisted her down. He didn't carry 
 her, for he said she was far too much of a heavy- 
 weight for any such performance as that, but 
 he supported her on one side, and with a banister 
 rail on the other she managed beautifully. 
 
 And, anyway, her ankle was just about as well 
 as ever. The doctor had not allowed the active 
 child to come downstairs until there was little 
 if any danger that an imprudence on her part 
 might injure her again. 
 
 It was Saturday afternoon, and though she 
 could not be allowed to walk about the place until 
 the following week, yet Uncle Steve took her for 
 
 86'
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 87 
 
 a long, lovely drive behind Ned and Dick, and then 
 brought her back to another jolly little surprise. 
 
 This was found in a certain sheltered corner of 
 one of the long verandas. It was so built that it 
 was almost like a cosy, little square room; and 
 climbing vines formed a pleasant screen from the 
 bright sunlight. To it Uncle Steve had brought 
 a set of wicker furniture: dear little chairs and 
 a table and a settee, all painted green. Then 
 there was a green-and-white hammock swung at 
 just the right height, and containing two or three 
 fat, jolly-looking, green pillows, in the midst of 
 which Puff had chosen to curl herself up for a 
 nap. 
 
 There was a little bamboo bookcase, with a few 
 books and papers, and a large box covered with 
 Japanese matting, which had a hinged lid, and 
 was lovely to keep things in. There was a rug on 
 the floor, and Japanese lanterns hung from the 
 ceiling, all in tones of green and white and silver. 
 
 Marjorie unceremoniously dislodged Puff from 
 her comfortable position, and flung herself into 
 the hammock instead.
 
 88 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Uncle Steve!" she exclaimed, grabbing that 
 gentleman tightly round the neck as he leaned 
 over her to adjust her pillows, "you are the best 
 man in the whole world, and I think you ought to 
 be President ! If you do any more of these lovely 
 things for me I shall just just suffocate with 
 joy. What makes you so good to me, any- 
 how?" 
 
 "Oh, because you're such a little saint, and 
 never do anything naughty or mischievous !" 
 
 "That's a splendid reason," cried Marjorie, 
 quite appreciating the joke, "and, truly, Uncle 
 Steve, don't you tell, it's a great secret: but 
 I am going to try to be more dignified and 
 solemn." 
 
 This seemed to strike Uncle Steve as being very 
 funny, for he sat down on the little wicker settee 
 md laughed heartily. 
 
 "Well, you may as well begin now, then; and 
 put on your most dignified and pompous manner, 
 as you lie there in that hammock, for I'm going 
 to read to you until tea-time." 
 
 "Goody, goody!" cried Marjorie, bobbing up
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 89 
 
 her curly head, and moving about excitedly. 
 "Please, Uncle, read from that new book you 
 brought me last night. I'll get it!" 
 
 "That's a nice, dignified manner, that is ! Your 
 Serene Highness will please calm yourself, and 
 stay just where you are. / shall select the book to 
 read from, and / shall do the reading. All you 
 have to do is to lie still and listen." 
 
 So Marjorie obeyed, and, of course, Uncle Steve 
 picked out the very book she wanted, and read 
 to her delightfully for an hour or more. 
 
 Marjorie's porch, as it came to be called, proved 
 to be a favorite resort all summer long for the 
 family and for any guests who came to the house. 
 Marjorie herself almost lived in it for the first 
 few days after she came downstairs, but at last 
 the doctor pronounced her ankle entirely well, and 
 said she might "start out to find some fresh mis- 
 chief." 
 
 So the next morning, directly after breakfast, 
 she announced her intention of going down to 
 see the boathouse. 
 
 "Just think," she exclaimed, "I have never seen
 
 90 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 it yet, and King told me to go down there the 
 very first thing." 
 
 "I suppose you'll come back half -drowned," said 
 Grandma, "but as you seem unable to learn any- 
 thing, except by mistakes, go ahead. But, Mar- 
 jorie, do try not to do some absurd thing, and 
 then say that I haven't forbidden it! I don't 
 forbid you to go in the boat, if Carter goes with 
 you, but I do forbid you to go alone. Will you 
 remember that?" 
 
 "Yes, Grandma, truly I will," said Marjorie, 
 with such a seraphic smile that her grandmother 
 kissed her at once. 
 
 "Then run along and have a good time; and 
 don't jump off the dock or anything foolish." 
 
 "I won't," cried Marjorie, gayly; and then she 
 went dancing down the path to the garden. Carter 
 was in the greenhouse potting some plants. 
 
 "Carter," said Marjorie, putting her head in 
 at the door, "are you very busy?" 
 
 "Busy, indeed! I have enough work here with 
 these pesky plants to keep me steady at it till 
 summer after next. Busy, is it? I'm so busy
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 91 
 
 that the bees and the ants is idle beside me. Busy ? 
 Well, I am busy !" 
 
 But as the good-natured old man watched Mar- 
 jorie's face, and saw the look of disappointment 
 settling upon it, he said: "But what matters that? 
 If so be, Miss Midget, I can do anything for you, 
 you've only to command." 
 
 "Well, Carter, I thought this morning I'd like 
 to go down to see the boathouse; and I thought, 
 perhaps, maybe, if you weren't busy, you might 
 take me for a little row in the boat. Just a little 
 row, you know not very far." 
 
 It would have taken a harder heart than Car- 
 ter's to withstand the pleading tones and the ex- 
 pectant little face; and the gardener set down 
 his flower-pots, and laid down his trowel at 
 once. 
 
 "Did your grandmother say you could go, Miss 
 Midget?" 
 
 "She said I could go if you went with me." 
 
 "Then it's with ye I go, and we'll start at once." 
 
 Marjorie danced along by the side of the old 
 man as he walked more slowly down the garden
 
 92 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 path, when suddenly a new idea came into her 
 head. 
 
 "Oh, Carter," she cried, "have my seeds come 
 up yet? And what are the flowers? Let's go 
 and look at them." 
 
 "Come up yet, is it? No, indeed, they've 
 scarcely settled themselves down in the earth yet." 
 
 "I wish they would come up, I want to see what 
 they'll be. Let's go and look at the place where 
 we planted them, Carter." 
 
 So they turned aside to the flowerbed where the 
 precious seeds had been planted, but not even Mar- 
 jorie's sharp eyes could detect the tiniest green 
 sprout. With an impatient little sigh she turned 
 away, and as they continued down toward the 
 boathouse, Marjorie heard somebody calling, and 
 Molly Moss came flying up to her, all out of breath. 
 
 "We were so afraid we wouldn't catch you," she 
 exclaimed, "for your Grandma said you had gone 
 out in the boat." 
 
 "We haven't yet," answered Marjorie, "but 
 we're just going. Oh, Carter, can we take Molly, 
 too?"
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 9S 
 
 "And Stella," added Molly. "She's coming 
 along behind." 
 
 Sure enough, Stella was just appearing round 
 the corner of the house, and walking as sedately 
 as if on her way to church. 
 
 "Hurry up, Stella," called Marjorie. "Can we 
 aU go, Carter?" 
 
 "Yes, if yees'll set still in the boat and if the 
 other little lady gets here before afternoon. She's 
 the nice, quiet child, but you two are a pair of 
 rascally babies, and I don't know whether it's 
 safe to go on the water with ye. I'm thinkin' 
 I'll take little Miss Stella, and leave ye two be- 
 hind." 
 
 "/ don't think you will, Carter," said Marjorie,. 
 not at all alarmed by the old man's threat. "/ 
 think you'll take all three of us, and we'll sit as 
 still as mice, won't we, Molly?" 
 
 "Yes," said Molly; "can we take off our shoes 
 and stockings and hang our feet over the sides 
 of the boat?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," cried Marjorie, "that will be lots 
 of fun!"
 
 94 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Indeed you'll do nothing of the sort," and 
 Carter's honest old face showed that he felt great 
 anxiety concerning his madcap charges. "Ye 
 must promise to sit still, and not move hand or 
 foot, or I'll go back to my work and leave yees 
 on shore." 
 
 This awful suggestion brought about promises 
 of strictly good behavior, and as Stella had 
 arrived, the party proceeded to the boathouse. 
 
 Stella was mildly pleased at the prospect of a 
 row, and walked demurely by Carter's side, while 
 the other two ran on ahead and reached the boat- 
 house first. 
 
 As the door was locked, and they could not 
 open it, Marjorie, who was all impatience to see 
 the boat, proposed that they climb in the window. 
 Molly needed no second invitation, and easily 
 slipped through the little square window, and Mar- 
 jorie, with a trifle more difficulty, wriggled her 
 own plump little body through after. 
 
 As the window was not on the side of the boat- 
 house toward which Carter was approaching, he 
 did not see the performance, and so when he and
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 95 
 
 Stella reach the boathouse a few moments later, 
 they could see nothing at all of the other two 
 girls. 
 
 "Merciful powers!" he exclaimed. "Whatever 
 has become of them two witches ?" 
 
 "Where can they be?" cried Stella, clasping her 
 hands, and opening her eyes wide in alarm. 
 
 Old Carter was genuinely frightened. "Miss 
 Marjorie !" he called, loudly. "Miss Molly ! Where 
 be ye?" 
 
 Meanwhile, the two girls inside the boathouse 
 had carefully scrambled down into the boat and 
 sat quietly on the stern seat. There was a strong 
 breeze blowing, and as the boat swayed up and 
 down on the rippling water, its keel grating 
 against the post to which it was tied, and the 
 doors and windows being tightly shut, they did 
 not hear Carter's voice. They really had no in- 
 tention of frightening the old man, and supposed 
 he would open the door in a moment. 
 
 But Carter's mind was so filled with the thought 
 that the children had fallen into the water that 
 it didn't occur to him to open the boathouse. He
 
 96 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 went to the edge of the pier, which was a narrow 
 affair, consisting only of two wooden planks and 
 a single hand rail, and gazed anxiously down into 
 the water. 
 
 This gave Stella a firm conviction that the girls 
 were drowned, and without another word she began 
 to cry in her own noisy and tumultuous fashion. 
 Poor Carter, already at his wits' end, had small 
 patience with any additional worry. 
 
 "Keep still, Miss Stella," he commanded; "it's 
 enough to have two children on me hands drowned 
 without another one raising a hullabaloo. And it's 
 a queer thing, too, if them wicked little rats is 
 drownded, why they don't come up to the surface ! 
 My stars! Whatever will the Missus say? But, 
 havin' disappeared so mortal quick, there's no 
 place they can be but under the water. I'll 
 get a boat-hook, and perhaps I can save 'em 
 yet." 
 
 Trembling with excitement and bewildered with 
 anxiety, so that he scarcely knew what he did, 
 the old man fitted the key in the lock. He flung 
 open the boathouse door and faced the two chil-
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 97 
 
 dren, who sat quietly and with smiling faces in 
 the boat. 
 
 "Well, if ye don't beat all! Good land, Miss 
 Marjorie, whatever did ye give me such a scare 
 for? Sure I thought ye was drownded, and I was 
 jest goin' to fish ye up with a boat-hook! My, 
 but you two are terrors ! And how did ye get in 
 now? Through the keyhole, I suppose." 
 
 "Why, no, Carter," exclaimed Marjorie, who 
 was really surprised at the old man's evident ex- 
 citement; "we were in a hurry, and the door was 
 locked, so we just stepped in through the window." 
 
 "Stepped in through the window, is it? And 
 if the window had been locked ye'd have jest 
 stepped in through the chimley! And if the 
 chimley had been locked, ye'd have stepped 
 into the water, and ducked under, and come up 
 through the floor ! When ye're in a hurry, ye stop 
 for nothin', Miss Midget." 
 
 The old man's relief at finding the children safe 
 was so great that he was really talking a string 
 of nonsense to hide his feelings. 
 
 But Stella, though she realized the girls were all
 
 98 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 right, could not control her own emotions so easily, 
 and was still crying vociferously. 
 
 "For goodness' sake!" exclaimed Molly, "what 
 is the matter with Stella? Doesn't she want to go 
 boating ?" 
 
 "Why yes," sobbed Stella, "b-but I thought 
 you two were drowned." 
 
 "Well, we're not!" cried Marjorie, gayly. "So 
 cheer up, Stella, and come along." 
 
 Leaving the two girls, as they were already 
 seated, in the stern of the boat, Carter carefully 
 tucked Stella into the bow seat, and then took his 
 own place on the middle thwart. This arrange- 
 ment enabled him to keep his eye on the two mis- 
 chievous madcaps, and he had no fear that Stella 
 would cut up any tricks behind his back. 
 
 He could not reprove the mischief-makers, for 
 they had done nothing really wrong, but he looked 
 at them grimly as he rowed out into the stream. 
 
 "Oh," exclaimed Marjorie, "isn't this just too 
 lovely for anything! Please, Carter, mayn't we 
 just put our hands in the water if we keep our 
 feet in the boat?"
 
 A BOAT-RIDE 99 
 
 "No," growled Carter ; "you'll be wantin' to put 
 your heads in next. Now do set still, like the nice 
 young lady behind me." 
 
 Anxious to be good, Marjorie gave a little sigh 
 and folded her hands in her lap, while Molly did 
 likewise. 
 
 Carter's eyes twinkled as he looked at the two 
 little martyrs, and his heart relented. 
 
 "Ye may just dangle your fingers in the water, 
 if ye want to," he said, "but ye must be careful 
 not to wobble the boat." 
 
 The children promised, and then gave themselves 
 up to the delight of holding their hands in the 
 water and feeling the soft ripples run through 
 their fingers. 
 
 The row down the river was perfect. The balmy 
 June day, with its clear air and blue sky, the swift, 
 steady motion of the boat impelled by Carter's 
 long, strong strokes, and the soothing sensation 
 of the rushing water subdued even the high spirits 
 of Midge and Molly into a sort of gentle, tran- 
 quil happiness.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 
 
 WITH a few deft strokes Carter brought the boat 
 to land on a long, smooth, shelving beach. A 
 crunch of the keel on the pebbles, and then the 
 boat was half its length on shore. Stella, in the 
 bow, grasped the sides of the boat tightly with 
 both hands, as if the shore were more dangerous 
 than the water. Carter stepped out, and drew the 
 boat well up on land, and assisted the girls 
 out. 
 
 Stella stepped out gingerly, as if afraid of 
 soiling her dainty boots; but Midge and Molly, 
 with a hop, skip, and jump, bounded out on the 
 beach and danced round in glee. 
 
 "I do believe," cried Marjorie, "that this is 
 Blossom Banks! For there are three banks, one 
 after another, just covered with wild flowers. And 
 100
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 101 
 
 as true as I live there's a scarlet tanager on that 
 bush ! Don't startle him, Stella." 
 
 Molly laughed at the idea of Stella startling 
 anything, and softly the girls crept nearer to the 
 beautiful red bird, but in a moment he spread his 
 black-tipped wings and flew away. 
 
 "It is Blossom Banks, Miss Midge," said Car- 
 ter, who now came up to the girls, and who was 
 carrying a mysterious-looking basket. He had se- 
 cured the boat, and seemed about to climb the 
 banks. 
 
 "What's in the basket, Carter?" cried Midge. 
 "Is it a picnic? Is it a truly picnic?" 
 
 "Well, just a wee bit of a picnic, Miss Midget. 
 Your Grandma said that maybe some cookies and 
 apples wouldn't go begging among yees. But ye 
 must climb the banks first, so up ye go !" 
 
 Gayly the girls scrambled up the bank, and 
 though Stella was not as impetuous as the others, 
 she was rtot far behind. At every step new beau- 
 ties dawned, and Marjorie, who was a nature-lover, 
 drew a long breath of delight as she reached the 
 top of the Blossom Banks.
 
 102 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 They trotted on, sometimes following Carter's 
 long strides and sometimes dancing ahead; now 
 falling back to chatter with Stella and now racing 
 each other to the next hillock. 
 
 At last they reached the dearest little picnic 
 place, with soft green grass for a carpet, and 
 gnarled roots of great trees for rustic seats. 
 
 "For a little picnic," said Midge, as she sat with 
 an apple in one hand and a cookie in the other, 
 contentedly munching them both alternately, "tin's 
 is the bestest ever. And isn't this a splendiferous 
 place for a big picnic !" 
 
 "Perhaps your grandma will let you have one 
 this summer," said Stella. "She had one for King- 
 don last year and we all came to it. It was lovely 
 fun." 
 
 "Indeed it was," cried Molly; "there were 
 swings on the trees, and we played tag, and we 
 had bushels of sandwiches." 
 
 "I'm going to ask Grandma as soon as ever I 
 get home," declared Midge, "and I 'most know 
 she'll let me have one. But I don't know many 
 children around here to ask."
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 103 
 
 "I'll make up a list for you," volunteered Molly. 
 "Come on, girls, let's play tag." 
 
 The cookies and apples being all gone and Car- 
 ter having consented in response to their coaxing 
 to stay half an hour longer, they had a glorious 
 game of tag. 
 
 Stella, though so sedate when walking, could run 
 like a deer, and easily caught the others; for 
 Marjorie was too plump to run fast, and Molly, 
 though light on her feet, was forever tumbling 
 down. 
 
 At last, tired and warm from their racing, they 
 sat down again in the little mossy dell and played 
 jackstones until Carter declared they must go 
 home. 
 
 "All right," said Midge ; "but, Carter, row us a 
 little farther down stream, won't you, before you 
 turn around?" 
 
 "I will, Miss Midge, if ye'll sit still and 
 not be everlastin' makin' me heart jump into 
 me throat thinkin' ye'll turn the boat upside 
 down." 
 
 "All right," cried Midge, and she jumped into
 
 104 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 the boat with a spring and a bounce that made 
 the other end tip up and splash the water all over 
 her. 
 
 "There ye go now," grumbled Carter ; "my, but 
 it's the rambunctious little piece ye are! Now, 
 Miss Molly, for the land's sake, do step in with 
 your feet and not with your head ! You two'll be 
 the death of me yet !" 
 
 Carter's bark was worse than his bite, for, al- 
 though he scolded, he helped the children in care- 
 fully and gently seated Stella in her place. Then 
 he stepped in, and with a mighty shove of the oat 
 pushed the boat off the beach, and they were afloat 
 again. 
 
 The exhilaration of the occasion had roused 
 Midge and Molly to a high state of f rolicsomeness, 
 and it did seem impossible for them to keep still. 
 They dabbled their hands in the water and sur- 
 reptitiously splashed each other, causing much 
 and tumultuous giggling. This was innocent fun 
 in itself, but Carter well knew that a sudden unin- 
 tentional bounce on the part of either might send 
 the other one into the water. Regardless of their
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 105 
 
 entreaties he turned around and headed the boat 
 for home. 
 
 "Ye're too many for me, Miss Midge," he ex- 
 claimed ; "if I land you safe this trip ye can get 
 somebody else to row ye the next time. I'm having, 
 nervous prostration with your tricks and your 
 didoes. Now, will ye be good ?" 
 
 This last exasperated question was caused 
 by the fact that a sudden bounce of Molly's 
 caused the boat to lurch and Carter's swift- 
 moving oar sent a drenching wave all over 
 Midge. 
 
 "Pooh, water doesn't hurt!" cried the victim. 
 "I like it. Do it again, Molly !" 
 
 "Don't you do it, Miss Molly!" roared Carter, 
 bending to his oars and pulling fast in an effort 
 to get home before these unmanageable children 
 had passed all bounds. 
 
 "Girls," piped Stella, plaintively from her end 
 of the boat, "if you don't stop carrying on, I 
 shall cry." 
 
 This threat had more effect than Carter's repri- 
 mands, and, though the two madcaps giggled
 
 106 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 softly, they did sit pretty still for the remainder 
 of the trip. 
 
 Once more on the dock, Marjorie shook her- 
 self like a big dog, and declared she wasn't very 
 wet, after all. "And I'm very much obliged to 
 you, Carter," she said, smiling at the old man ; 
 "you were awful good to take us for such a 
 lovely boat-ride, and I'm sorry we carried on 
 so, but truly, Carter, it was such a lovely boat 
 that I just couldn't help it! And you do row 
 splendid !" 
 
 The compliment was sincere, and by no means 
 made with the intention of softening Carter's 
 heart, but it had that effect, and he beamed on 
 Midget as he replied : 
 
 "Ah, that's all right, me little lady. Ye just 
 naturally can't help bouncin' about like a rubber 
 ball. Ye have to work off yer animal spirits some- 
 how, I s'pose. But if so be that ye could sit a 
 bit quieter, I might be injuced to take ye agin 
 some other day. But I'd rather yer grandma'd 
 be along." 
 
 "Oho!" laughed Marjorie. "It would be funny
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 107 
 
 to have Grandma in a boat ! She'd sit stiller than 
 Stella, and I don't believe she'd like it, either." 
 
 With Stella in the middle, the three girls inter- 
 twined their arms and skipped back to the house. 
 Marjorie and Molly had found that the only way 
 to make Stella keep up with them was to urge 
 her along in that fashion. 
 
 "Good-by," said Marjorie, as the three parted 
 at the gate; "be sure to come over to-morrow 
 morning; and, Stella, if you'll bring your paint- 
 box, it will be lovely for you to paint those paper 
 dolls." 
 
 The three girls had become almost inseparable 
 companions, and though Midge and Molly were 
 more congenial spirits, Stella acted as a balance 
 wheel to keep them from going too far. She really 
 had a good influence over them, though exerted 
 quite unconsciously; and Midge and Molly in- 
 spired Stella with a little more self-confidence and 
 helped her to conquer her timidity. 
 
 "Good-by," returned Stella, "and be sure to 
 have a letter in the post office by four o'clock, 
 when James goes for the milk."
 
 108 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 The post office in the old maple tree had become 
 quite an institution, and the girls put letters there 
 for each other nearly every day, and sent for 
 them by any one who might happen to be going 
 that way. 
 
 Quiet little Stella was especially fond of getting 
 letters and would have liked to receive them three 
 times a day. 
 
 The elder members of the three families often 
 sent letters or gifts to the children, and it was not 
 at all unusual to find picture postcards or little 
 boxes of candy, which unmistakably came from the 
 generous hand of Uncle Steve. 
 
 One delightful afternoon Marjorie sat in her 
 cosy little porch with a table full of delightful 
 paraphernalia and a heart full of expectation. 
 
 She was waiting for Uncle Steve, who was going 
 to devote that afternoon to helping her arrange 
 her Memory Book. Marjorie had collected a 
 quantity of souvenirs for the purpose, and Uncle 
 Steve had bought for her an enormous scrapbook. 
 When she had exclaimed at its great size, he had 
 advised her to wait until it had begun to fill up
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 109 
 
 before she criticised it; and when she looked at 
 her pile of treasures already accumulated, she 
 wondered herself how they would all get in the 
 book. 
 
 At last Uncle Steve came, and sitting down 
 opposite Marjorie at her little table, announced 
 himself as ready to begin operations. 
 
 "We'll plan it out a little first, Mopsy, and then 
 fasten the things in afterward." 
 
 Marjorie was quite content to sit and look on, 
 at least until she found out how such things were 
 done. 
 
 "You see," said her uncle, "we'll take a page 
 for each occasion more or less. For instance, 
 as this book is to represent just this summer 
 it ought to begin with your trip up here. 
 Have you anything that reminds you of that 
 day?" 
 
 "Yes," said Marjorie, looking over her heap of 
 treasures, "here's a little kind of a badge that 
 father bought for me at the station as we were 
 going to the train." 
 
 "Just the thing ; now, you see, as this is on a pin
 
 110 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 itself we'll just stick it in this first page. Any- 
 thing else?" 
 
 "Well, here's a pretty picture I cut out of a 
 magazine on the train coming up ; oh, and here are 
 two postcards that I bought of a boy who brought 
 them through the train." 
 
 "Fine ! Now, you see, we'll paste all these on this 
 page and anything more if you have it, and then 
 every time you look at this page you can just seem 
 to see that whole trip, can't you?" 
 
 "Yes," said Marjorie, who was becoming ab- 
 sorbedly interested in this new game; "and here's 
 the time-table, Uncle: but that isn't very pretty 
 and it's so big. Oh, and here's the card, the bill 
 of fare, you know, that we had in the dining-car. 
 See, it has a picture on it." 
 
 "Why, Midget, it isn't considered exactly good 
 form to carry the menu away with you; but it's 
 really, no crime, and since you have it, we'll put it 
 in. As to the time-table, we'll just cut out this 
 part that includes the stations at the beginning 
 and end of your trip. See?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, indeed I do! And what a beautiful
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 111 
 
 page!" Marjorie breathlessly watched as Uncle 
 Steve arranged the souvenirs harmoniously on the 
 big page and pasted them neatly in their places. 
 Then, taking from his pocket a box of colored 
 pencils, he printed at the top of the page, in or- 
 nate letters, the date and the occasion. Uncle 
 Steve was an adept at lettering, and the caption 
 was an additional ornament to the already attract- 
 ive page. 
 
 Thus they went on through the book. Some- 
 times a page was devoted to a special occasion, 
 and again many scattered mementoes were grouped 
 together. It seemed as if every pleasure Marjorie 
 had had since she came, had produced something 
 attractive for her book. 
 
 A fancy lace paper represented the big box of 
 bonbons that her father had sent her when she 
 had her sprained ankle. Many photographs there 
 were, for Marjorie had learned to use her camera 
 pretty well, and Uncle Steve sometimes took snap- 
 shots of the children with his own larger camera. 
 There were several little pictures that Stella had 
 painted for her, an old tintype that Grandma had
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 given her, a feather from the tail of Marjorie's 
 pet rooster, and many such trifles, each of which 
 brought up a host of memories of pleasant or 
 comical situations. 
 
 The sprained-ankle episode filled up several 
 pages. For there were the letters that Marjorie 
 had received from the animals, and other notes 
 and pictures that had been sent to her, and many 
 mementoes of those long days she had spent in bed. 
 The beautiful book Uncle Steve had brought her 
 at that time was suggested by its title, cut from 
 the paper wrapper which had been on the book 
 when it came. Indeed, it seemed that there was 
 no end to the ingenious ways of remembering 
 things that Marjorie wanted to remember. A 
 tiny, bright bird feather would recall the walk 
 she took with Grandma one afternoon ; a pressed 
 wild flower was an eloquent reminder of Blossom 
 Banks ; and a large strawberry hull, neatly pasted 
 into place, Marjorie insisted upon to remind her 
 of the day when she said "Boo" to Stella. 
 
 Several pages were devoted to souvenirs from 
 home, and Rosy Posy's illegible scrawls were side
 
 A MEMORY BOOK 118 
 
 by side with neatly-written postcards from her 
 parents. 
 
 All of these things Uncle Steve arranged with 
 the utmost care and taste, and Marjorie soon 
 learned how to do it for herself. Some things, 
 such as letters or thin cards, must be pasted in; 
 heavier cards or postcards were best arranged by 
 cutting slits for the corners and tucking them 
 in; while more bulky objects, such as pebbles, a 
 tiny china doll or a wee little Teddy Bear, must 
 be very carefully tied to the page by narrow rib- 
 bons put through slits from the back. 
 
 Marjorie was so impetuous and hasty in her 
 work that it was difficult for her to learn to do 
 it patiently and carefully. Her first efforts tore 
 the pages and were far from being well done. 
 But, as she saw the contrast between her own 
 untidy work and Uncle Steve's neat and careful 
 effects, she tried very hard to improve, and as the 
 book went on her pages grew every day better and 
 more careful. 
 
 At the top of each page Uncle Steve would write 
 the date or the place in dainty, graceful letters;
 
 114 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 and often he would write a name or a little joke 
 under the separate souvenirs, until, as time went 
 on, the book became one of Marjorie's most valued 
 and valuable possessions.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 
 
 MARJORIE had been at Grandma Sherwood's about 
 three weeks, and as a general thing she had been a 
 pretty good little girl. She had tried to obey her 
 mother's orders, and though it was not easy to 
 keep her troublesome curls always just as they 
 ought to be and her ribbon always in place, yet 
 she had accomplished this fairly well, and Grand- 
 ma said that she really deserved credit for it. 
 
 But to obey Grandma implicitly was harder still. 
 Not that Marjorie ever meant to disobey or ever 
 did it wilfully, but she was very apt to forget and, 
 too, it seemed to be natural for her to get into 
 mischief. And as it was always some new sort 
 of mischief, which no one could have thought of 
 forbidding, and as she was always so sorry for 
 it afterward, there was more or less repentance and 
 forgiveness going on all the time. 
 
 115
 
 116 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 But, on the whole, she was improving, and Uncle 
 Steve sometimes said that he believed she would 
 live to grow up without tumbling off of something 
 and breaking her neck, after all. 
 
 Grandma Sherwood found it far easier to for- 
 give Marjorie's unintentional mischief than her 
 forgetting of explicit commands. 
 
 One command in particular had caused trouble 
 all summer. There were two front doors to 
 Grandma's house and two halls. One of these 
 halls opened into the great drawing-room on one 
 side and a smaller reception room on the other, 
 where callers were received. The stairs in this 
 hall were of polished wood and were kept in a 
 state of immaculate, mirror-like shininess by Jane, 
 who took great pride in this especial piece of work. 
 
 The other front door opened into a hall less 
 pretentious. This hall was between the drawing- 
 room and the family library, and the stairs here 
 were covered with thick, soft carpet. 
 
 It was Grandma's wish that the members of 
 the family should usually use the carpeted stairs, 
 for she too took great pride in the glossy, shin-
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS . 117 
 
 ing surface of the others. Uncle Steve preferred 
 the carpeted stairs, anyway, as they led to the 
 upper hall which opened into his own room, and 
 Grandma invariably used them. 
 
 As a means of distinction, the wooden stairs 
 were habitually called the Front Stairs; and, 
 though they were equally front, the carpeted 
 flight was always spoken of as the Other Stairs. 
 
 From the first, Marjorie had been explicitly 
 forbidden to go up and down the Front Stairs; 
 and from the first Marjorie had found this rule 
 most difficult to remember. 
 
 Rushing from her play into the house, often 
 with muddy or dusty shoes, she would fly into 
 the hall, clatter up the Front Stairs, and, perhaps, 
 down again and out, without a thought of her 
 wrongdoing. This would leave footprints, and 
 often scratches and heel-marks on the beautiful 
 steps, which meant extra work for Jane ; and even 
 then the scratches were not always effaceable. 
 
 Many a serious talk had Grandma and Mar- 
 jorie had on the subject; many times had Mar- 
 jorie faithfully promised to obey this particular
 
 118 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 command ; and, alas ! many times had the child 
 thoughtlessly broken her promise. 
 
 At last, Grandma said: "I know, my dear, you 
 do not mean to forget, but you do forget. Now 
 this forgetting must stop. If you run up those 
 Front Stairs again, Marjorie, I'm going to pun- 
 ish you." 
 
 "Do, Grandma," said Marjorie, cheerfully; 
 "perhaps that will make me stop it. For honest 
 and true I just resolve I won't do it, and then 
 before I know it I'm just like Jack and the Bean- 
 stalk, 'a-hitchet, a-hatchet, a-up I go!' and, 
 though I don't mean to, there I am !" 
 
 Grandma felt like smiling at Marjorie's naive 
 confession, but she said very seriously: "That's 
 the trouble, dearie, you do forget and you must 
 be made to remember. I hope it won't be neces- 
 sary, but if it is, you'll have to be punished." 
 
 "What will the punishment be, Grandma?" 
 asked Marjorie, with great interest. She was 
 hanging around Mrs. Sherwood's neck and pat- 
 ting her face as she talked. There was great 
 affection between these two, and though Marjorie
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 119 
 
 was surprised at the new firmness her grand- 
 mother was showing, she felt no resentment, but 
 considerable curiosity. 
 
 "Never mind ; perhaps you'll never deserve pun- 
 ishment and then you will never know what it 
 would have been. Indeed, I'm not sure myself, but 
 if you don't keep off those Front Stairs we'll both 
 of us find out in short order." 
 
 Grandma was smiling, but Marjorie knew from 
 her determined tone that she was very much in 
 earnest. 
 
 For several days after that Marjorie kept care- 
 fully away from the Front Stairs, except when 
 she was wearing her dainty house slippers. It 
 was an understood exception that, when dressed 
 for dinner or on company occasions and her feet 
 shod with light, thin-soled shoes, Marjorie might 
 walk properly up or down the Front Stairs. The 
 restriction only applied to her heavy-soled play 
 shoes or muddied boots. 
 
 So all went well, and the question of punish- 
 ment being unnecessary, it was almost forgotten. 
 
 One morning, Marjorie was -getting ready to go
 
 120 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 rowing with Carter. Molly was to go too, and as 
 the girls had learned to sit moderately still in 
 the boat, the good-natured gardener frequently 
 took them on short excursions. 
 
 It was a perfect summer day, and Marjorie 
 sang a gay little tune as she made herself ready 
 for her outing. She tied up her dark curls with a 
 pink ribbon, and as a hat was deemed unnecessary 
 by her elders, she was glad not to be bothered 
 with one. She wore a fresh, pink gingham dress 
 and thick, heavy-soled shoes, lest the boat should 
 be damp. She took with her a small trowel, for 
 she was going to dig some ferns to bring home; 
 and into her pocket she stuffed a little muslin bag, 
 which she always carried, in case she found any- 
 thing in the way of pebbles or shells to bring home 
 for her Memory Book. She danced down the 
 Other Stairs, kissed Grandma good-by, and 
 picking up her basket for the ferns, ran merrily 
 off. 
 
 Molly was waiting for her, and together they 
 trotted down the sandy path to the boathouse. It 
 had rained the day before and the path was a bit
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 121 
 
 muddy, but with heavy shoes the children did not 
 need rubbers. 
 
 "Isn't it warm?" said Molly. "I 'most wish I'd 
 worn a hat, it's so sunny." 
 
 "I hate a hat," said Marjorie, "but I'll tell you 
 what, Molly, if we had my red parasol we could 
 hold it over our heads." 
 
 "Just the thing, Mopsy; do skip back and get 
 it. I'll hold your basket, and Carter isn't here 
 yet." 
 
 Marjorie ran back as fast as she could, pat- 
 tering along the muddy path and thinking only of 
 the red parasol, bounded in at the front door and 
 up the Front Stairs ! 
 
 Grandma was in the upper hall, and her heart 
 sank as she saw the child, thoughtlessly uncon- 
 scious of wrongdoing, clatter up the stairs, her 
 heavy boots splashing mud and wet on every pol- 
 ished step. 
 
 Her heart sank, not so much because of the 
 mud on the steps as because of this new proof of 
 Marjorie's thoughtlessness. 
 
 "My dear little girl!" she said, as Marjorie
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 reached the top step, and in a flash Marjorie 
 realized what she had done. 
 
 Crestfallen and horrified, she threw herself into 
 her grandmother's arms. 
 
 "I'm sorry, Midget dear, but I cannot break 
 my word. You know what I told you." 
 
 "Yes, Grandma, and / am so sorry, but please, 
 oh, Grandma dear, can't you just postpone the 
 punishment till to-morrow? 'Cause Molly and I 
 are going to Blossom Banks to dig ferns, and it's 
 such a beautiful day for ferns." 
 
 Grandma Sherwood hesitated. It almost broke 
 her heart to deprive the child of her holiday, and 
 yet it was for Marjorie's own good that an at- 
 tempt must be made to cure her of her carelessness. 
 
 "No, Marjorie; I cannot postpone the punish- 
 ment until to-morrow. If you wanted to go row- 
 ing to-day, you should have waited to run up 
 these stairs until to-morrow. You didn't postpone 
 your naughtiness, so I cannot postpone its pun- 
 ishment." 
 
 Marjorie looked dumfounded. She had not in- 
 tended to be naughty, but also she had never sup-
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 123 
 
 posed her gentle grandma could be so severe. She 
 looked utterly disconsolate, and said in despairing 
 tones : "But, Grandma, won't you ,let me go rowing 
 this morning and give me the punishment this 
 afternoon ? I must go ; Molly and Carter are down 
 by the boathouse waiting for me ! Please, Grand- 
 ma !" 
 
 So difficult was it for Mrs. Sherwood to resist 
 the child's pleading tones that her own voice was 
 more stern than she intended to make it, lest she 
 reveal her true feeling. 
 
 "No, Marjorie; you have been very naughty 
 now, and so you must be punished now. Listen 
 to me. I shall send Jane to tell Carter to go back 
 to his work and to tell Molly to go home. I'm 
 sorry to spoil your pleasure, but remember you 
 have really spoiled it yourself." 
 
 Marjorie did not cry, she was not that sort of a 
 child. But she had a broken-down, wilted air, the 
 very despondency of which almost made her grand- 
 mother relent. Had it been a more important 
 occasion she might have done so, but the children 
 could go on the river any day, and though it was
 
 124 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 a very real disappointment to Marjorie to stay 
 at home, yet discipline required it. 
 
 "Now, Marjorie," went on Mrs. Sherwood, after 
 Jane had been despatched on her errand, "take off 
 those muddy shoes and set them on the top step of 
 the stairs." 
 
 Rather wondering at this command, Marjorie 
 sat down on the top step, unlaced her shoes, and 
 did with them as she had been bidden. 
 
 "Now, this is your punishment, my child; you 
 came up these stairs when you had been told not 
 to do so: now you may spend the rest of the day 
 on the stairs. You are not to leave them until 
 six o'clock to-night. With the muddy steps and 
 your muddy shoes in front of your eyes all day 
 long, you may, perhaps, learn to remember better 
 in future." 
 
 Marjorie could scarcely believe her ears. To 
 stay on the stairs all day long seemed a funny 
 punishment; and except for missing the row on 
 the river, it did not seem a very hard one. 
 
 "May I have a book, Grandma," she asked, still 
 a little bewildered by the outlook.
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 125 
 
 Grandma considered. "Yes," she said at last; 
 "you may go to your room, put on your worsted 
 bedroom slippers, and then you may bring back 
 with you any books or toys you care for." 
 
 "How many?" asked Marjorie, whose spirits 
 were rising, for her punishment seemed to promise 
 a novel experience. 
 
 "As many as you can carry at once," replied 
 Grandma, turning aside to hide a smile. 
 
 In a few minutes Marjorie returned. She had 
 turned up the short, full skirt of her pink ging- 
 ham frock to form a sort of bag, and into it she 
 had tumbled, helter-skelter, several books, some 
 paper and pens, her paper-doll's house, her paint- 
 box, her kitten, a few odd toys, her Memory Book, 
 and her clock. Staggering under the bulging 
 load, but in a more cheerful frame of mind, she 
 reached the stairs again. 
 
 "I brought my clock," she observed, "because I 
 shall want to know as the hours go by ; but I'll be 
 careful not to scratch the stairs with it, Grandma.'* 
 
 "Your carefulness comes too late, Marjorie. I 
 shall have to send for a man from town to repolish
 
 126 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 the stairs, anyway, for the nails in the heels of your 
 heavy boots have entirely ruined them." 
 
 "Oh, Grandma, I am so sorry ; and if you think 
 a day won't be punishment enough, I'll stay for a 
 week. Do I get anything to eat?" she added, as a 
 sudden thought of their picnic luncheon occurred 
 to her. "You might just send me the picnic 
 basket." 
 
 "Jane will bring you your dinner," said her 
 grandmother, shortly, for she began to think the 
 punishment she had devised was more like a new 
 game. 
 
 "Goody !" cried Marjorie. "I do love dinner on 
 a tray. Send plenty of strawberries, please; and, 
 Grandma, don't think that I'm not truly being 
 punished, for I am. I shall think over my naughti- 
 ness a good deal, and when I look at those awful 
 shoes, I don't see how I could have done such a 
 wicked thing. But you know yourself, Grandma, 
 that we ought to make the best of everything, and 
 so I'll just get what fun I can out of my books 
 and my strawberries." 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood went away, uncertain whether
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 127 
 
 she had succeeded in what she had intended to 
 do or not. She knew Marjorie would not leave the 
 stairs without permission, for the little girl was 
 exceedingly conscientious. 
 
 Left to herself, Marjorie began to take in the 
 situation. 
 
 She carefully unpacked her dressful of things, 
 and arranged them on the steps. In this she be- 
 came greatly interested. It was a novel way of 
 living, to go always up and down and never side- 
 ways. She planned her home for the day with 
 care and thought. She decided to reserve a nar- 
 row space next the banister to go up and down; 
 and to arrange her belongings on the other side of 
 the staircase. She put her clock on the top step 
 that she might see it from any point of view ; and 
 on the other steps she laid neatly her books, her 
 paint-box, her writing things, and her toys. She 
 became absorbed in this occupation, and delight- 
 edly scrambled up and down, arranging and re- 
 arranging her shelved properties. 
 
 "It's a good deal like my shelf in my own room," 
 she thought, "except it's all in little pieces instead
 
 128 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 of straight ahead. But that doesn't really mat- 
 ter, and I'm not sure but I like it better this way. 
 Now, I think I'll write a letter to Mother, first, and 
 confess this awful thing I've done. I always feel 
 better after I get my confessions off of my mind, 
 and when Jane brings my dinner I expect she'll 
 take it to be mailed." 
 
 Marjorie scrambled up to a step near the top 
 where her little writing tablet was. She arranged 
 her paper and took up her pen, only to discover 
 that in her haste she had forgotten to bring any 
 ink. 
 
 "But it doesn't matter," she thought, cheer- 
 fully, "for it would have upset in my dress prob- 
 ably, and, anyway, I can just as well use a 
 pencil." 
 
 But the pencil's point was broken, and, of 
 course, it had not occurred to her to bring a knife. 
 She had promised Grandma not to leave the stairs 
 without permission, so there was nothing to do but 
 to give up the idea of letter-writing, and occupy 
 lierself with something else. 
 
 "And, anyway," she thought, "it must be nearly
 
 THE FRONT STAIRS 129 
 
 dinner time, for I've been here now for hours and 
 hours." 
 
 She glanced at the clock, and found to her 
 amazement that it was just twenty minutes since 
 her grandmother had left her alone. 
 
 "The clock must have stopped !" she said, bend- 
 ing her ear to listen. 
 
 But it hadn't, and Marjorie suddenly realized 
 that a whole day, solitary and alone, is an inter- 
 minable length of time. 
 
 "Oh, dear," she sighed, putting her head down 
 on her arms on the step above, "I do wish I had 
 gone up the Other Stairs! This day is going to 
 last forever ! I just know it is ! But if it ever 
 does get over, I never want to see the Front Stairs 
 again !"
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 A LONG DAY 
 
 MARJORIE had expected to derive much satisfac- 
 tion, during her sojourn on the stairs, from play- 
 ing with her kitten. But Puff ran away almost 
 immediately, and no amount of calling or coaxing 
 could bring her back. 
 
 Sighing deeply, Marjorie tried to amuse herself 
 reading the books she had brought. But the light 
 was not very good on the stairs, and somehow, too, 
 the books seemed to have lost their interest. Think- 
 ing over what she could do to make the time pass, 
 she remembered her paint-box. She was fond of 
 painting, and concluded she would try to paint a 
 little sketch of the stairs to put in her Memory 
 Book to represent this dreadful day. 
 
 "Not that I need anything to make me remem- 
 ber it," she thought, "for I'm sure I can never, 
 130
 
 A LONG DAY 131 
 
 never, never forget it." But when she had her other 
 materials all prepared she realized she had no 
 glass of water, so, of course, her paints were use- 
 less. 
 
 Even her paper-doll's house seemed to have lost 
 its flavor. She had no new things to paste in, nor 
 had she any paste. 
 
 She began to learn what a lot of little things 
 make up the comforts of life, and, utterly dis- 
 couraged, she tried to think of something to while 
 away the time. 
 
 At last she concluded she would start at the 
 top and go down, sitting on each step five minutes. 
 "This," she calculated to herself, "will fill up a 
 long time. There are seventeen steps, and seven- 
 teen times five is, well, I don't know how much it 
 is, exactly, but it must be several hours. Per- 
 haps, when I get down to the bottom it will be 
 afternoon !" 
 
 With a reviving sense of interest in something, 
 she sat on the top step and waited for five minutes 
 to pass. Never had a period of time seemed so 
 long. It was twice as long as a church service,
 
 132 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 and a dozen times as long as the ride in the cars 
 when she came up to Grandma's. But at last the 
 five minutes was up, and with a little jounce Mar- 
 jorie slid down to the next step, and prepared 
 to spend another five. This was longer yet, and 
 at the third step Marjorie gave up this plan, 
 as being the most dreadful thing she had ever 
 tried. 
 
 She began to feel like crying, but was deter- 
 mined not to do anything so foolish. 
 
 Slowly and wearily the morning dragged away, 
 and at last, when Marjorie had begun to feel 
 that lassitude which comes from utter weariness, 
 Jane appeared with a tray of luncheon. 
 
 Marjorie brightened up at once. "Oh, Jane," 
 she cried, "I'm so glad to see you ! I am so lone- 
 some !" 
 
 "Pore lamb!" said Jane, sympathetically; "I'm 
 thinkin' ye're purty nigh dead, be now. But here's 
 the foine lunch for ye. See, darlint, here's chicken 
 and strawberries and jelly and all the things ye like 
 best ! Cheer up, now, and ate yer food." 
 
 "Indeed, I will ! Oh, Jane, what lovely things \
 
 A LONG DAY 
 
 Fresh little cakes, with pink icing; and goose- 
 berry jam! But don't go away, Jane." 
 
 "I must, Miss Midget. Yer grandma towld me 
 not to shtay wid yez." 
 
 "But I'm so lonesome," said Marjorie, who had 
 just seemed to realize what the main trouble 
 was. 
 
 But Jane dared not disobey orders, and setting 
 the tray on the stairs, she went away, with fond 
 backward glances at the forlorn little figure sit- 
 ting there. 
 
 However, the lonesomest human heart is bound 
 to cheer up a little under the influence of a spe- 
 cially fine feast, and as Marjorie ate her luncheon 
 and drank a big glass of milk, the detested stairs 
 began to assume a rather more attractive air. 
 
 And so, when Jane came to take the tray away 
 she found on it only empty dishes, while Marjorie, 
 who was cuddled up in a corner, reading, looked 
 at her with a smile. 
 
 "The day is half gone !" she announced, tri- 
 umphantly. "And, Jane, won't you ask Grandma 
 if you may bring me a glass of water so I can
 
 134 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 paint. But tell her I don't want it unless she's 
 perfectly willing." 
 
 Grandma smiled a little at the stipulation, but 
 sent Marjorie the glass of water, and the child 
 filled up half an hour or more painting pictures. 
 But the cramped position was very uncomforta- 
 ble, and Marjorie grew restless and longed for 
 exercise. Suddenly an inspiration seized her, and 
 she concluded it would be great fun to slide down 
 the banister. For a few times this was amusing, 
 but it stung her hands, and finally she fell off 
 and bumped her head rather soundly. 
 
 "It's lucky I fell on the stair side," she said to 
 herself, rubbing the lump on her forehead, "for I 
 promised Grandma not to leave the stairs, and if 
 I had fallen off on the other side I should have 
 broken my promise !" 
 
 The afternoon hours seemed to move rather 
 more slowly than the morning. Occasionally, Mar- 
 jorie's naturally cheerful disposition would assert 
 itself and she would bravely endeavor to occupy 
 herself pleasantly in some way. But there was 
 so little light, and stairs are uncomfortable at
 
 A LONG DAY 185 
 
 best to sit on, and the silence and loneliness were 
 so oppressive, that her efforts successively failed. 
 
 And, though Marjorie did not realize it, her 
 spirits were depressed because of the mere fact 
 that she was undergoing punishment. Had she 
 been there of her own free choice she could have 
 played happily on the stairs all day long; or had 
 the opportunity been bestowed upon her, as a great 
 and special treat, the hours would have flown by. 
 
 At last, exhausted, Nature conquered all else, 
 and, seated on one step, Marjorie folded her arms 
 on the step above, laid her head down upon them, 
 and went to sleep. 
 
 And it was thus that Uncle Steve found her 
 when he came home at four o'clock. 
 
 "Hello, Queen of Mischief!" he cried, gayly. 
 "Wake up here and tell me all about it !" 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Steve!" cried Marjorie, waking, 
 flushed from her nap, and delighted at having 
 some one to speak to; "do you know why I'm here? 
 Did Grandma tell you?" 
 
 "Yes, she told me; and she told me something 
 else, too. She says that if you are properly sorry
 
 136 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 for what you did, really, awfully sorry, you 
 know, that you may be excused for the rest of 
 the day and may go out driving with me." 
 
 "Well, I just rather guess I am sorry ! I'm two 
 sorries. One, because I disobeyed Grandma and 
 tracked up her Front Stairs; and another, be- 
 cause I've had this terrible, dreadful punishment." 
 
 Uncle Steve looked at his niece a little gravely. 
 "Which are you more sorry for, Marjorie," he 
 asked : "because you did wrong or because you were 
 punished ?" 
 
 Marjorie considered. "About equal, I think. 
 No, I'm more sorry I did wrong, because if I 
 hadn't, I wouldn't have had the punishment; and, 
 besides, it hurt Grandma's feelings." 
 
 "Which did?" 
 
 "Why, my running up the stairs! Of course, 
 the punishment didn't hurt her," and Marjorie 
 laughed merrily at the idea. 
 
 "I think it hurt her more than it did you," said 
 Uncle Steve, but Marjorie only stared, open-eyed, 
 at this nonsense. 
 
 "Well, anyway, it's all over now ; so bundle your
 
 A LONG DAY 137 
 
 belongings back where they belong and get your- 
 self ready for a drive." 
 
 Marjorie flew to obey, but meeting Grandma in 
 the hall, she dropped her dressful of books and 
 toys, and flung herself into Mrs. Sherwood's wait- 
 ing arms. 
 
 "Oh, Grandma!" she cried. "I am so sorry I 
 slam-banged upstairs, and I'll never do it again, 
 and I had a perfectly awful, dreadful time, but of 
 course you had to punish me for your own good, 
 I mean for my own good, but now it's all over, 
 and you love me just the same, don't you?" 
 
 The ardent embrace in progress left no doubt of 
 the affection still existing between the pair, and 
 if Marjorie's hugs were of the lovingly boisterous 
 variety, Grandma Sherwood appeared quite willing 
 to submit to them. 
 
 "I don't know," she thought to herself, after 
 Marjorie had gone for her drive, "whether that 
 child is impervious to discipline or whether she is 
 unusually capable of receiving and assimilating 
 it." 
 
 But at any rate, Marjorie never went up or
 
 138 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 down the front stairs again, except on the occa- 
 sions when it was distinctly permissible. 
 
 The drive with Uncle Steve was a succession of 
 delights. This was partly because it was such a 
 sudden and pleasant change from the abominable 
 staircase and partly because Uncle Steve was such 
 an amiable and entertaining companion. 
 
 The two were alone in an old-fashioned, low 
 basket-phaeton; and Uncle Steve was willing to 
 stop whenever Marjorie wished, to note an espe- 
 cially beautiful bird on a neighboring branch or 
 an extra-fine blossom of some wild flower. 
 
 Also, Uncle Steve seemed to know the names of 
 all the trees and flowers and birds they chanced to 
 see. Greatly interested in these things, Marjorie 
 learned much nature-lore, and the lessons were but 
 play. Tying the horse to a fence, the two cronies 
 wandered into the wood and found, after much 
 careful search, some Indian Pipes of an exquisite 
 perfection. These fragile, curious things were 
 Marjorie's great delight, and she carried them 
 carefully home for her Memory Book. 
 
 "They won't be very satisfactory as mementoes,"
 
 A LONG DAY 139 
 
 warned Uncle Steve, "for they will turn brown and 
 lose their fair, white beauty." 
 
 Marjorie looked regretful, but an inspiration 
 came to her. 
 
 "I'll tell you what, Uncle Steve, I'll get Stella 
 to draw them in my book and paint them. She's 
 so clever at copying flowers, and I'm sure she can 
 do it," 
 
 "Let her try it, then, and if she doesn't succeed 
 I'll photograph them for you, so you'll have at 
 least a hint of the lovely things." 
 
 Hand in hand they walked through the wood, 
 spying new beauties here and there. Sometimes 
 they sat on a fallen log to rest a bit or to discuss 
 some new marvel in Nature's kingdom. 
 
 At last, as the sun was sinking low in the west, 
 they left the wood, untied old Betsy, who was pa- 
 tiently waiting for them, and jogged along home- 
 ward. 
 
 "Punishment is a strange thing," said Marjorie 
 to Grandma, as they were having their little "twi- 
 light talk" that evening, before the child went to 
 bed.
 
 140 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Why?" asked Grandma. 
 
 "Because it makes you remember," said Mar- 
 jorie, slowly; "I don't see why I couldn't remem- 
 ber to keep off the Front Stairs, just because you 
 told me to, but somehow I couldn't. Now, after 
 to-day, I'm sure I shall never forget again." 
 
 "That's the difference, my child, between youth 
 and age. You are young and careless of other 
 people's wishes. I want you to learn to consider 
 others before yourself, and to remember to do so 
 without a dreadful punishment to fix it in your 
 memory." 
 
 "It's lucky, isn't it, that I don't get punished 
 for all the naughty things I do? It would keep 
 me busy being punished most of the time." 
 
 "You are a mischievous child, Marjorie; but 
 your mischief is always the result of carelessness 
 or forgetfulness. I have never known you pur- 
 posely to disobey me or deliberately to cut up 
 some naughty trick." 
 
 "No, I don't, Grandma; often I'm being just as 
 good as an angel and as quiet as a mouse, when 
 suddenly something pops into my head that would
 
 A LONG DAY 141 
 
 be fun to do; and I fly and do it, before I think, 
 and just about every time it's something wrong!" 
 
 "Then suppose you try to act more slowly. 
 When you think of some piece of fun, pause a mo- 
 ment, to make sure that it isn't mischief. There's 
 quite enough innocent fun in the world to keep you 
 busy all day, and every day." 
 
 "I 'spect there is ; and truly, Grandma, after 
 this, when I want to cut up jinks, I'll wait until 
 I can think it out, whether they're good jinks or 
 bad jinks! Will that do?" 
 
 "That will do admirably," said Grandma, smil- 
 ing as she kissed the little girl ; "if you go through 
 life on that principle and if you have judgment 
 enough and I think you have to tell 'good 
 jinks' from 'bad jinks,' you will probably have 
 plenty of good times without any necessity for 
 punishment." 
 
 "Then that's all right," said Marjorie, and feel- 
 ing that her !ife problems were all settled, she 
 dropped off to sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE DUNNS 
 
 "MARJORIE," said Mrs. Sherwood, one morning, 
 "do you know where Mrs. Dunn lives?" 
 
 "Yes, Grandma; down the river-road, toward 
 the blacksmith's." 
 
 "Yes, that's right; and I wish you would go 
 down there for me and carry a small basket. There 
 isn't any one else I can send this morning and I 
 have just heard that she is quite ill." 
 
 "They're awfully poor people, aren't they? Are 
 you sending them something nice?" 
 
 "Yes ; some food. Mrs. Dunn scalded her hands 
 severely last night, and I fear she will not be able 
 to work for several days. So if you will carry 
 them these things for their dinner, I will try to 
 get down there myself this afternoon." 
 
 "Of course I will, Grandma; I'm glad to help 
 142
 
 THE DUNNS 143 
 
 the poor people. May I ask Molly to go with 
 me?" 
 
 "Why, yes; I don't care. If there are two of 
 you, you can carry more things. Run over after 
 her, and I'll have the baskets ready by the time 
 you get back." 
 
 With a hop and a skip, Marjorie took the short- 
 cut across the fields to Molly's house. It was a 
 beautiful summer morning, and Marjorie didn't 
 stop more than half a dozen times, to watch the 
 crows or the bees or the clouds or a hop-toad. 
 
 She captured Molly, and after waiting for that 
 dishevelled young person to scramble into a clean 
 frock, the two girls hopped and skipped back 
 again. 
 
 Marjorie was somewhat inexperienced in the 
 practical matters of charity, and looked with sur- 
 prise at the large quantity of substantial viands. 
 
 "There is a large family of the Dunns," ob- 
 served Grandma, "and they're all blessed with 
 healthy appetites. These things won't go t 
 waste." 
 
 "Are there children?" asked Marjorie.
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Yes, indeed, four of them. You must see how 
 Mrs. Dunn is and find out if she's badly hurt. Ask 
 her what she wants especially, and tell her I am 
 coming this afternoon, and I'll carry it to her." 
 
 The girls trotted away with the well-filled 
 baskets, and Grandma Sherwood looked after them 
 a little uncertainly, as she saw how preoccupied 
 they were in their own conversation, and remem- 
 bered how careless Marjorie was, and how prone 
 to mischief. 
 
 "Thim scalawags '11 be afther havin* a picnic 
 wid thim baskets," prophesied Eliza, as she too 
 watched the children's departure. 
 
 Grandma Sherwood laughed. "I hardly think 
 they'll do that," she said; "but they're liable to 
 set down the baskets, and go hunting for wild 
 flowers or something, and never think of their 
 errand again." 
 
 But, on the contrary, the children were quite in- 
 terested in their mission. 
 
 "Your grandma is an awful good woman," ob- 
 served Molly. 
 
 "Yes, she is," agreed Marjorie; "it's lovely of
 
 THE DUNNS 145 
 
 her to send all these good things to poor people. 
 It must be awful to be so poor that you don't have 
 enough to eat !" 
 
 "Yes, but it must be lovely when the baskets 
 come in." 
 
 "But they don't always come in," said Marjorie. 
 
 "They must," declared Molly, with an air of 
 conviction ; "if they didn't, the poor people would 
 have nothing to eat, and then they would die ; and 
 you know yourself, we never hear of anybody 
 dying of starvation around here." 
 
 "No; not around here, maybe. But in China 
 they drop off by millions, just from starvation." 
 
 "Well, they wouldn't if your grandmother was 
 there. She'd send baskets to every one of them." 
 
 "I believe she would," said Marjorie, laughing; 
 "she'd manage it somehow." 
 
 By this time they had reached the Dunns' do- 
 main. At least they had come to a broken-down 
 gate in a tumble-down fence, which Marjorie knew 
 was the portal of their destination. In their en- 
 deavors to open the rickety gate the girls pushed 
 it over, and nearly fell over, themselves.
 
 146 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 But carefully holding their baskets they climbed 
 over the pile of fallen pickets and followed the 
 grass-grown path to the house. 
 
 And a forlorn enough house it was. Every- 
 thing about it betokened not only poverty but 
 shiftlessness. Marjorie was not experienced 
 enough to know how often the former is the re j 
 suit of the latter, and her heart was full of pity 
 for people who must live in such comfortless sur- 
 roundings. The little old cottage was unpainted, 
 and the front porch was in such a dilapidated con- 
 dition that one step was entirely missing and sev- 
 eral floor-boards were gone. 
 
 "It's like walking a tight-rope," said Marjorie, 
 as she picked her way carefully along what she 
 hoped was a sound plank. "But it's rather excit- 
 ing. I wonder if we can get in." 
 
 There was no bell, and she tapped loudly on 
 the door. 
 
 Almost instantly it was opened by a child whose 
 appearance almost made Marjorie scream out with 
 laughter. 
 
 A little girl of about ten, dressed in a bright
 
 THE DUNNS 147 
 
 pink skirt and a bright blue waist, stood before 
 them. This startling color combination was en- 
 hanced by a red sash, which, though faded in 
 streaks, was wide and tied at the back in a volumi- 
 nous bow. The girl's naturally straight hair had 
 apparently been urged by artificial means to curl in 
 ringlets, but only a part of it had succumbed to 
 the hot iron. The rest fairly bristled in its stiff 
 straightness, and the whole mop was tied up with 
 a large bow of red ribbon. 
 
 This rainbow-hued specimen of humanity 
 opened the door with a flourish and bowed to the 
 visitors with an air of extreme elegance. 
 
 Marjorie looked at her in astonishment. The 
 gorgeous trappings and the formal demeanor of 
 the child made her think she must have mistaken 
 the house. 
 
 "Is this Mrs. Dunn's house?" she inquired, with 
 some hesitation. 
 
 "Yes ; I'm Miss Dunn," said the child, with such 
 a ridiculous air of affectation that Molly giggled 
 outright. 
 
 "Yes," Miss Dunn went on, "I am the eldest
 
 148 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 daughter. My name is Ella. They call me the 
 Elegant Ella, but I don't mind." 
 
 "I am Marjorie Maynard and Mrs. Sherwood is 
 my grandmother. She heard your mother was ill 
 and she sent her these baskets." 
 
 "How kind of her !" exclaimed the Elegant Ella, 
 clasping her hands and rolling up her eyes. 
 "Won't you come in?" 
 
 As Marjorie and Molly had been with difficulty 
 balancing themselves on the broken boards of the 
 porch, they were glad to accept the invitation. 
 
 Their first glance at the interior of the cottage 
 showed that the rest of the family and the ways 
 of the house did not at all harmonize with the 
 manner and appearance of the eldest daughter. 
 
 Everything was of the poorest, and there was 
 no attempt at order or thrift. 
 
 Mrs. Dunn sat in a rockerless rocking-chair, her 
 left hand wrapped in bandages and her right hand 
 holding a book which she was reading. 
 
 As the girls entered she threw the book on the 
 floor and smiled at them pleasantly. 
 
 "Walk right in," she said, "and take seats if
 
 THE DUNNS 149 
 
 you can find any. Hoopsy Topsy, get off that 
 chair this minute and give it to the ladies ! Dibbs, 
 you lift Plumpy out of the other one, quick! 
 There ! Now you girls set down and rest your- 
 selves! Did you bring them baskets for us? 
 Lawsee! What a good woman Mis' Sherwood is, 
 to be sure! Now ain't that just like her! She's 
 so kind and gen'rous-hearted that she makes it a 
 pleasure f er folks to get all scalted with hot water ! 
 Ella, you fly round and empty them baskets so's 
 the young ladies can take them home again. But 
 you set a while, girls, and visit." 
 
 "Are you much hurt, Mrs. Dunn?" asked Mar- 
 jorie. "And how did it happen?" 
 
 "Hurt ! Land sakes, I guess I am ! Why, the 
 hull kittle of boilin' water just doused itself on 
 my hand and foot !" 
 
 "That's why Ma didn't rise to greet you," ex- 
 plained the Elegant Ella, and again Molly had 
 hard work to keep her face straight as she noted 
 the girl's comical efforts at etiquette. 
 
 "Aw, you keep still, Ella," said her mother; 
 "you ain't got no call to talk to the young ladies."
 
 150 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 But although Mrs. Dunn apparently tried to 
 subdue her elegant daughter, yet it was plain to 
 be seen that she greatly admired the flower of 
 the family, and spoke thus merely from a pretended 
 modesty. 
 
 "Ella's so fond of dress," said Mrs. Dunn, "that 
 she jest don't hev time to bother with housekeepin'. 
 So Hoopsy Topsy does it, and that's why we 
 ain't so slick as we might be. But fer a child of 
 eight, I must say Hoopsy Topsy does wonderful 
 well." 
 
 Mrs. Dunn's pride in her offspring was unmis- 
 takable, and Hoopsy Topsy, who quite understood 
 she was being complimented, smiled and looked 
 happily self-conscious. 
 
 The novelty of the scene quite fascinated Mar- 
 jorie. She had expected that abject poverty 
 would leave its victims a despondent, down-hearted 
 set of people; and instead of that she found them 
 not only pleasant and amiable, but seemingly 
 happy and care-free. 
 
 "My grandmother said, Mrs. Dunn," said Mar- 
 jorie, "that if you would tell me of anything you
 
 THE DUNNS 151 
 
 specially want she would come this afternoon and 
 bring it to you." 
 
 "My ! ain't she good !" said Mrs. Dunn. "Well, 
 if she don't mind, I'd like some old linen to wrap 
 around the burns. You see, I am scalted pretty 
 bad and it'll be a while 'fore I kin get to work 
 again. But, of course, the children are right 
 handy, an' ef we jest have a stove an' a bed we can 
 scratch along somehow. Ella, she's more hifalutin. 
 She'd like red plush sofys and lace curtings. But 
 I say, 'Land, child ! What's the use of worrying ? 
 If you can't have them things, you can't !' So, 
 Ella, she makes the best of what she has, and I 
 must say she doos have wonderful fine taste." 
 
 Marjorie looked at the Elegant Ella, and, 
 though she didn't agree with Mrs. Dunn as to 
 Ella's taste, she felt sorry for the poor child, who 
 wanted the refinements of life, yet was doomed to 
 live without them. 
 
 "It is of no consequence," said Ella, tossing her 
 head; "we are very comfortable; and though I 
 should like a piano, I am in no haste to procure 
 one."
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Lucky you ain't," observed her mother, "as 
 I don't see none runnin' this way. What's the 
 matter, Dibbsy dear?" 
 
 Dibbs, who was a baby of four years, was sit- 
 ting on the floor digging both his fists into his 
 eyes. And though not audibly crying, he evidently 
 was not entirely happy. 
 
 "Wants to know what's in de bastick !" he an- 
 nounced without hesitation. 
 
 "So you shall," declared his fond mother. 
 "Hoopsy Topsy, lift Dibbs up so he can see what 
 the young ladies brought." 
 
 Nothing loath, Hoopsy Topsy lifted up her 
 brother, who at once forgot his grief, and, 
 smiling broadly, began to investigate the bas- 
 kets. 
 
 "Land sake, Ella," said Mrs. Dunn, "I told you 
 to empty them baskets long ago. Whatever have 
 you been a-doin' all this time?" 
 
 "I was retying my sash, Ma," exclaimed Ella, 
 reappearing from the next room; "I think it has 
 more of an air tied on the side." 
 
 "Ain't she the airy piece !" exclaimed the proud
 
 THE DUNNS 153 
 
 mother, looking at her daughter with undisguised 
 admiration. 
 
 But it seemed to Molly and Marjorie that, 
 if anything could be funnier than the Ella 
 who first met them, it was the Ella of the retied 
 sash! 
 
 Having arranged her finery to her satisfaction, 
 Ella proceeded with her work of taking the things 
 from the baskets, and, as she lifted out a large 
 piece of cold beef, a delicious pie, some tea and 
 sugar, and various parcels of bread and butter, 
 and a jar of apple-sauce, the little Dunns all gath- 
 ered round, quite unable to refrain from noisy 
 expressions of glee and delight. 
 
 " Jiminy Christmas !" cried Hoopsy Topsy, quite 
 upsetting Dibbs as she made a rush for the 
 pie. And then Plumpy, the baby, wiggled his 
 fat little self across the floor and joined the 
 crowd about the pie, and aided by the Elegant 
 Ella, in a few moments there wasn't any pie at 
 all. 
 
 "Just look at them," said Mrs. Dunn, placidly ; 
 "you'd think they didn't have no manners! But
 
 154 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 they're that fond of pie, you wouldn't believe! 
 They don't never get none, you know, and so it's a 
 novelty." 
 
 "We'd like it if we had it every day," announced 
 Hoopsy Topsy, with her mouth full. 
 
 "Pie ev'y day!" agreed Dibbs, as he content- 
 edly munched his piece. The whole scene made a 
 great impression on the two visitors, but they were 
 affected quite differently. Marjorie felt a strong 
 inclination to get away as soon as she could, for, 
 though she felt very sorry for the poor people 
 and was glad to give them things, yet the situation 
 was not at all attractive, and having done her 
 errand, she was quite ready to go. 
 
 Not so Molly. That active and energetic young 
 person was dismayed at the untidiness and dis- 
 comfort all about, and felt a strong desire at least 
 to alleviate it. 
 
 "Mrs. Dunn," she said, "of course with your 
 injured hand and foot you can't sweep. Mayn't I 
 just take a broom and brush up a little? You'd 
 be so much more comfortable." 
 
 "Land sakes, child, 'taint fer you to be sweepin*
 
 THE DUNNS 155 
 
 our house! Ella here, she can sweep; and Hoopsy 
 Topsy's a good fist at it." 
 
 "I shall tidy up the room to-morrow," said Ella, 
 with an air of haughty apology, "but to-day I 
 have a hat to trim and I can't be bothered with 
 household matters." 
 
 "Ella's just great on trimmin' hats," observed 
 her mother, "and Mis' Green, she giv' her her last 
 year's straw; and Ella, she'll trim it up so Mis' 
 Green herself couldn't recognize it!" 
 
 Marjorie didn't doubt this in the least, and as 
 Molly's suggestion had put an idea into her own 
 head, she began to look upon an acquaintance with 
 the Dunns as a new sort of entertainment.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE BAZAAK. 
 
 "Mas. DUNN," Marjorie said, "please let Molly 
 and me fix up this room a little bit. Now, I'll tell 
 you what : you and the children take these baskets 
 of things out into the kitchen and put them away, 
 or eat them, or do what you please. And then you 
 all stay out there until we tell you you may come 
 back. Ella can trim her hat if she chooses, and 
 Hoopsy Topsy can take care of the children, and 
 you can go on with your reading which we inter- 
 rupted." 
 
 "Now, ain't you kind," said Mrs. Dunn; "I do 
 declare that would be jest lovely! I ain't had a 
 good rest like that in I don't know when ! Hoopsy 
 Topsy, you and Ella'll have to shove me out in this 
 here chair. I can hobble some, but I can't walk." 
 
 With the children's assistance, Mrs. Dunn was 
 156
 
 THE BAZAAR 157 
 
 transferred to the other room, her children fol- 
 lowed, and Midge and Molly were left to their own 
 devices. 
 
 "It's hopeless," said Marjorie, as she looked 
 around at the untidy room. 
 
 "Not a bit of it !" declared Molly ; "if I only had 
 a decent broom instead of this old stub! Now, 
 I'll sweep, Mopsy, and you find something that'll 
 do for a duster, and we'll straighten up the place 
 in less than no time." 
 
 Molly was a brave little housekeeper, and though 
 Marjorie knew less about it, she was an apt pupil, 
 and the whole performance seemed great fun. In 
 less than an hour the two girls had quite trans- 
 formed the room. Everything was clean and tidy, 
 and Marjorie had scampered out and picked a 
 bunch of daisies and clover to decorate the 
 mantel. 
 
 "They haven't any pretty things," she said, as 
 she scowled at the effect of her bouquet in an old 
 cracked jar. "I'll tell you what, Molly, let's come 
 back to-morrow and bring some little traps to 
 decorate with. I can spare a number of things out
 
 158 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 of my own room ; and Grandma will give me some, 
 I know ; and Uncle Steve will give me some, too." 
 
 "Yes, I can bring a lot," said Molly, with en- 
 thusiasm; "let's make this family all over. Let's 
 make them be neat and tidy and thrifty." 
 
 "Do you suppose we can?" said Marjorie, doubt- 
 fully. 
 
 "Well, we can try," said Molly. "Now let's call 
 them in, and then let's go home. It must be dinner- 
 time, and I'm nearly starved." 
 
 They opened the door and found the Dunn fam- 
 ily apparently happy and contented; and in no 
 wise disturbed by the unusual occupation of their 
 visitors. 
 
 "Come in," cried Marjorie, "come in all of you, 
 and see how nice your room looks !" 
 
 "I can't come just now," said Elegant Ella, 
 whose speech was rather indistinct by reason of 
 several pins held in her mouth. "I'm trimming 
 my hat, and if I leave it now I'll forget how I was 
 going to arrange the feather." 
 
 "I think I won't move just at present," said 
 Mrs. Dunn. "The gettin' out here hurt me more'n
 
 THE BAZAAR 159 
 
 I thought it was goin' to, and now I'm landed, I 
 guess I'll set a spell. I'm ever so much obliged to 
 you fer all your kindness, and now you'd better 
 run along home or your grandma'll be worried. 
 You're mighty good children, and I'm glad to have 
 that room swep' up; it must be a weight off en 
 Ella's mind." 
 
 It did not seem probable that Ella ever had a 
 weight on her mind in the way of housekeeping 
 cares, but at the moment she was so absorbed in 
 her hat-trimming that she paid no attention to her 
 mother's remark. 
 
 It seemed hard that Molly and Midge had no one 
 to appreciate the results of their labors, but 
 Hoopsy Topsy was washing the dishes after the 
 family meal, Plumpy was asleep on the floor, and 
 Dibbs was playing out in the door-yard, with some 
 battered old toys. 
 
 So, taking their baskets, Molly and Midge 
 started homeward. 
 
 "I thought it would be fun to take things to 
 poor people," said Marjorie, with an air of dis- 
 appointment ; "but those people are too aggravat-
 
 160 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 ing for anything. They just accept what you 
 bring and hardly thank you for it, and then they 
 seem to want you to go home as fast as you 
 can." 
 
 "That's so," agreed Molly; "but I don't care 
 whether they like it or not. I think we ought 
 to try to do them good. I don't mean only to take 
 them things to eat, but try to make them more 
 more " 
 
 "Respectable," suggested Marjorie. "But I 
 suppose that Ella thinks she's more respectable 
 than we are this minute." 
 
 "I s'pose she does; but we oughtn't to be dis- 
 couraged by such things. I think mother'll give 
 me some of my last year's dresses to give her, 
 and then she won't have to wear that funny-look- 
 ing rig she had on." 
 
 "She likes that," said Marjorie. "I don't be- 
 lieve she'd wear your dresses if you took them to 
 her." 
 
 By this time the girls had reached the Sherwood 
 house, and Grandma invited Molly to stay to din- 
 ner, which invitation the little girl gladly accepted.
 
 THE BAZAAR 161 
 
 At the dinner-table they told Grandma the whole 
 story of the morning. 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood was greatly amused at their de- 
 scription of the Dunn family, and greatly sur- 
 prised to learn of their efforts in the house-clean- 
 ing line. 
 
 "I want you to be charitable," she said, "and 
 generously inclined toward the poor and needy. 
 But I don't want you to adopt such unusual meth- 
 ods of dispensing your charity. After this, when 
 you feel inclined to such energetic measures, come 
 home first and ask permission. Then, if the plan 
 seems to me feasible, you can carry it out." 
 
 "But, Grandma," said Marjorie, "the Dunns 
 really need help. They can't seem to do any- 
 thing and they haven't anything to do 
 with." 
 
 "But you're too young, my child, to know what 
 they do need. You must be content to help them 
 under the direction of some one older than your- 
 self. Mrs. Dunn, I fear, is not a thrifty or hard- 
 working woman. She has not been here long, and 
 I know little about her ; but I've been told that she
 
 162 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 quite spoils that oldest child and makes the second 
 one do all the work." 
 
 "The second one is named Hoopsy Topsy," said 
 Marjorie, laughing; "and she's like her name. 
 She's always tumbling down and racing about, 
 with her dress torn and her hair in her eyes, like a 
 perfect witch. The Elegant Ella is quite different. 
 Truly, Grandma, they're a funny lot, and if you 
 go there this afternoon, mayn't we go with you ?" 
 
 "No," said Mrs. Sherwood, "I shall go by my- 
 self, to-day, and investigate the case. Perhaps 
 some other time I may take you children." 
 
 The girls were disappointed, but when they 
 found they couldn't go, they went out to Mar- 
 jorie's porch to talk it all over. 
 
 "I think," said Marjorie, "it's our duty to do 
 something for those children. Just think, Molly, 
 we have everything we want, and they have noth- 
 ing." 
 
 "I'll tell you what, Mopsy: let's sew and make 
 things for them; dresses, you know, and aprons." 
 
 "I can't sew fit to be seen, Molly; and 'twould 
 take me all summer to get one apron made. I'd
 
 THE BAZAAR 1G3 
 
 rather give them things that we have. Why, I'd 
 rather give Ella my best parasol than to try to sew 
 anything for her !" 
 
 "Oh, don't give her that lovely parasol! We'll 
 think of something else. Suppose we invite them 
 all to dinner ; you one day, and I another." 
 
 "I don't believe Grandma would like that. And, 
 anyway, that would only give them dinner for two 
 days; we couldn't keep it up, you know. But, 
 Molly, I'll tell you what ! Let's have a fair, or a 
 bazaar or something, and make some money for 
 them that way." 
 
 "Just the thing ! That would be lovely. Where 
 shall we have it ?" 
 
 "Right here in this porch. Uncle Steve'll help, 
 I know. And I'm sure Grandma won't mind our 
 doing that." 
 
 When Marjorie laid the plan before Mrs. Sher- 
 wood that lady quite approved of it. 
 
 "Now, that's something sensible," she said; "it 
 will be very nice for you girls to make things, and 
 have a pretty little fair, but don't go down there 
 again and sweep rooms for those people. I'm very
 
 164 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 sorry for poor Mrs. Dunn, but in this neighbor- 
 hood there are not many poor people, and as the 
 farmers are all kind-hearted I do not think she 
 will suffer for lack of food while her injuries keep 
 her from her work." 
 
 "Isn't there any Mr. Dunn?" asked Marjorie. 
 
 "No; he died a few months ago. That is why 
 she had to come here and live in that forlorn 
 little cottage. She hopes to support herself and 
 her children by going out to work each day, but 
 until her burns get well of course she can't do 
 that." 
 
 "I'm sorry for her," said Marjorie, decidedly, 
 "and I hope we'll make a lot at our fair to help her 
 along." 
 
 When they told Stella about the plan for the 
 fair, she thought it all great fun. She did not 
 seem to care much about the Dunns or their needs, 
 and positively refused to visit the little old cottage, 
 but she was ready to work for the fair with all her 
 might. 
 
 There seemed to be no end to the pretty things 
 Stella knew how to make. She was a clever little
 
 THE BAZAAR 165 
 
 artist, and she painted cards, pictures, and trin- 
 kets of all sorts, which Molly and Midge helped to 
 make up into various salable fancy articles. 
 
 Midge was ingenious, too, and every after- 
 noon the three worked busily, making all sorts of 
 things. 
 
 Dolls were a specialty; and they made funny 
 Chinese-looking affairs by stringing peanuts to- 
 gether, and making queer little costumes out of 
 Japanese paper-napkins. They made paper dolls, 
 too, which Stella painted prettily, and they dressed 
 some little china dolls and wooden Dutch dolls. 
 
 Uncle Steve brought them materials to make up ; 
 and a letter which Marjorie wrote to her mother 
 resulted in the arrival of a big box filled with all 
 sorts of pretty and curious things, which would 
 doubtless find a ready sale. 
 
 Marjorie crocheted mats and strung bead 
 chains, while Molly, whose tastes were practical, 
 made sweeping-caps and ironing-holders by the 
 dozen. 
 
 So enthusiastic did the girls grow over their 
 plan that their elders became interested, and soon
 
 166 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 donations for the fair began to arrive from many 
 of the neighbors. 
 
 As the day drew near, preparations went on 
 more rapidly, and the affair took on larger pro- 
 portions. 
 
 It was arranged that all the toys, dolls, and 
 fancy things for sale should be displayed in Mar- 
 jorie's porch. Carter had put up some long 
 tables, which Grandma Sherwood had draped pret- 
 tily with white and light green cheese-cloth. 
 
 The other parts of the big veranda were ar- 
 ranged with tables, where ices and cakes were to 
 be served; and a pretty booth was devoted to the 
 sale of home-made candies. 
 
 The verandas and grounds were made gay with 
 flags and Chinese lanterns. Uncle Steve super- 
 intended these decorations, which insured their 
 being beautiful and appropriate. A tent on the 
 lawn sheltered some musicians; and in an arbor, 
 lemonade was dispensed. 
 
 The day of the bazaar was clear and pleasant, 
 and not too warm. Early in the afternoon, Stella 
 and Molly arrived, and the two, with Midge, all
 
 THE BAZAAR 167 
 
 in their fresh white dresses, flitted about from one 
 booth to another, to make sure that everything 
 was in readiness. 
 
 Several other girls and boys, and some ladies 
 and gentlemen too, had been invited to assist in 
 selling the things and to wait 01? the guests, so 
 that when the bazaar opened at four o'clock in 
 the afternoon a merry lot of young people were 
 scattered about the grounds. 
 
 Marjorie was in her element. "Oh, Uncle 
 Steve," she cried; "isn't it all perfectly lovely! 
 And I think we'll make quite a lot of money, don't 
 you?" 
 
 "I do, indeed, Mopsy. I'm only afraid, by the 
 way the customers are flocking in, that we haven't 
 provided enough refreshment for them." 
 
 And sure enough, though the hour was yet early, 
 crowds of people were coming in at the gate. 
 
 The fame of the little fair had spread among 
 the country people, and they all seemed determined 
 to help along the good cause. Molly and Mar- 
 jorie found their stock of wares rapidly fading 
 away, while Stella, who was selling lemonade, could
 
 168 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 scarcely keep enough on hand to supply her cus- 
 tomers. 
 
 "You must put up your prices, Mopsy," said her 
 uncle; "that's the way to do when your stock is 
 getting low." 
 
 So Marjorie doubled the price of everything she 
 had left for sale, but even then the dolls and 
 trinkets were willingly bought. 
 
 "What shall we do?" said Grandma, in despair. 
 "It isn't seven o'clock, we haven't lighted the lan- 
 terns yet for the evening, and the ice cream 
 is all gone! I never dreamed we'd have such a 
 crowd." 
 
 "We'll light the lanterns, anyway," declared 
 Uncle Steve, "for if the ice cream is gone they'll 
 want to buy the lanterns next !" 
 
 And sure enough they did. When the people 
 came in the evening and learned that everything 
 was sold out but the lanterns, they declared they 
 would buy them for souvenirs. So the merry guests 
 walked about the grounds, carrying the lighted 
 lanterns they had bought (at astonishing prices), 
 and it lent a fantastic effect to the scene to see
 
 THE BAZAAR 169 
 
 the lanterns bobbing about among the trees and 
 shrubs on the lawn. 
 
 Marjorie was so sorry not to have wares to 
 offer her would-be customers that she ran up to 
 her room several times, gathering up books, pic- 
 tures, or toys that she thought she could by any 
 possibility spare. She would fly with them down 
 to the porch, mark them at exorbitant prices, and 
 in a few moments they would be sold to the amiable 
 and generous buyers. 
 
 It was an unusual experience for a fancy fair, 
 as often there are many unsold wares left to be 
 auctioned off or sold at reduced rates. 
 
 When it was all over and the last guests had 
 departed, swinging their lanterns, Marjorie, very 
 tired but very happy, displayed a well-filled cash- 
 box. 
 
 "How much do you suppose?" she cried gayly 
 to Uncle Steve. 
 
 "Fifty dollars," guessed that jovial gentle- 
 man. 
 
 "Nonsense," cried Marjorie, "you know there's 
 more than that ! But I rather think you'll be sur-
 
 170 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 prised when I tell you that there's a little over two 
 hundred dollars !" 
 
 "Fine !" exclaimed Uncle Steve. "That will keep 
 the Elegant Ella in fans and sashes for some 
 time !" 
 
 "Indeed, it won't be used for that," declared 
 Marjorie. "We're going to give it to Grandma 
 and let her use it for the Dunns just as she thinks 
 best. Little girls can have a fair and earn the 
 money, but it takes older people to manage the rest 
 of it." 
 
 "That's true enough, Midge," said Grandma, 
 "but you certainly shall have a share in the pleas- 
 ure of bestowing it upon our poor neighbors.'*
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A BIRTHDAY 
 
 Sff MopSY," said Uncle Steve one morning, "I under- 
 stand that next week Thursday has the honor of 
 being your birthday." 
 
 "Yes, Uncle Steve, and I'll be twelve years old." 
 
 "My gracious goodness ! What an old lady you 
 are getting to be ! Well, now for such an occasion 
 as that we must celebrate in some way. So I'm 
 going to give you a choice of pleasures. Would 
 you rather have a party, a picnic, or a present?" 
 
 Marjorie considered. She well knew that a pres- 
 ent which would balance against a party or a 
 picnic would be a fine present, indeed. And so, 
 after a moment's thought, she replied: 
 
 "I'll take the present, thank you, Uncle Steve; 
 for somehow I feel sure we'll have picnics this sum- 
 mer, as we always do ; and I don't care much about 
 171
 
 172 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 a party, because I know so few children around 
 here." 
 
 "All right, then, Midget ; a present it shall be, 
 but with this stipulation: you must promise not 
 to go down into the south orchard from now until 
 next Thursday." 
 
 "Why not?" asked Mopsy, her eyes wide open 
 with astonishment. 
 
 "Principally, because I tell you not to, and I 
 want you to obey me ; but I don't mind explaining 
 that it is because I shall be there, at least part of 
 the time, making your present ; and as I want it to 
 be a surprise, you mustn't come peeping around." 
 
 "All right, Uncle Steve, I won't ; but why do you 
 make it down there? Why not make it up here at 
 the house?" 
 
 "Midget, your curiosity will some day get you in- 
 to trouble. I prefer to do the work in the meadow. 
 Perhaps it is sewing, and I shall take my work- 
 basket and sit under the big maple-trees to sew." 
 
 Marjorie laughed to think of Uncle Steve sew- 
 ing, but was really burning with curiosity to know 
 what he was going to do.
 
 A BIRTHDAY 173 
 
 However, she had given her word, and she con- 
 scientiously kept it. Not once during those inter- 
 vening days did she so much as look toward the 
 south meadow, though if she had done so she would 
 not have been able to discover what her birthday 
 surprise was to be. 
 
 Every day she discussed the subject with Molly 
 and Stella, and each formed an opinion. Stella 
 thought it was a new flower garden that Uncle 
 Steve was making for Midge; Molly thought he 
 was having a swing put up, because she had seen 
 Carter carrying some long timbers over that way. 
 But the girls considered themselves bound by 
 Mopsy's promise to her uncle, and conscientiously 
 refrained from going down to the meadow to in- 
 vestigate. 
 
 Grandma, of course, was in the secret, and as a 
 result she often shut herself into her own room, 
 telling Marjorie she must not come in. She would 
 stay there for hours at a time, and Mopsy felt sure 
 she was sewing on something connected with the 
 birthday surprise, as indeed she was. 
 
 As the day came nearer, all the members of the
 
 174 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 household seemed to be in a state of great excite- 
 ment. Carter was running about, bringing 
 mysterious-looking parcels from the express 
 office, and taking them to the barn to unpack 
 them. 
 
 Eliza was concocting delicious-looking creams 
 and jellies, but they, Marjorie knew, were for the 
 birthday feast, which would, of course, be a hilari- 
 ous festival, although not a party. 
 
 At last Thursday morning came, and Marjorie 
 awoke bright and early; and very soon, arrayed 
 in a fresh, pink gingham frock, went dancing 
 downstairs. 
 
 So early was she that the others had not yet 
 come down, and she went out into the kitchen to 
 talk to Eliza. 
 
 "Oh, me!" she sighed. "I wish Uncle Steve 
 would hurry. It just seems as if I couldn't wait 
 any longer to know what my birthday surprise is 
 going to be. Do you know, Eliza ?" 
 
 "Faix, an' I do, Miss Midge, an' it's a foine gift 
 yer uncle has for ye !" 
 
 "Don't tell me, Eliza, because Uncle Steve said
 
 A BIRTHDAY 175 
 
 I mustn't ask questions about it ; but do you think 
 I'll like it?" 
 
 " 'Like it,' is it? 'Deed an' you will thin ! Ye'll 
 go crazy as a loony tic wid joy and delight! An' 
 I'm thinkin' you and Miss Molly will be after 
 breaking your necks in it, but the little lady Stella, 
 I'm feared she won't get in it at all, at all ; she'll 
 be too sheared." 
 
 "Then it is a swing," exclaimed Midget, and 
 she felt a little disappointment, for though a 
 swing was lovely to have, yet she had one at home, 
 so it was no especial novelty ; and, too, she hadn't 
 thought Uncle Steve would make such a fuss about 
 having a swing built. 
 
 "I'm not sayhi' it isn't a swing," said Eliza, 
 "and I'm not sayin' it is. And I'm not sayin' it 
 isn't a merry-go-around-about, or whativer ye call 
 thim noisy things that they do be havin' down by 
 the circus tent, and I'm not sayin' it is." 
 
 "Don't say any more about what it is or isn't, 
 or I'll guess." 
 
 "Indeed you wouldn't, Miss Mopsy, if ye guessed 
 from now until ye're gray-headed."
 
 176 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 This made Midget think that the gift was not 
 a swing, as she had already guessed that, and 
 then she heard Uncle Steve's voice calling her, 
 and she ran gayly back to the dining-room. 
 
 The birthday breakfast was a festival indeed. 
 Marjorie's place was decorated with flowers, and 
 even the back of her chair was garlanded with 
 wreaths. 
 
 At her plate lay such a huge pile of parcels, tied 
 up in bewitching white papers and gay ribbons, 
 that it seemed as if it would take all day to ex- 
 amine them. 
 
 "Goodness me!" exclaimed Midget. "Did any- 
 body ever have so many birthday gifts ? Are they 
 all for me?" 
 
 "Any that you don't want," said Uncle Steve, 
 "you may hand over to me. I haven't had a birth- 
 day for several years now, and I'd be thankful for 
 one small gift." 
 
 "You shall have the nicest one here," declared 
 Marjorie, "and I don't care what it is, or who 
 sent it." 
 
 "The nicest one isn't here," observed Grandma,
 
 A BIRTHDAY 177 
 
 with a merry twinkle in her eye, and Marjorie 
 knew that she was thinking of the surprise in the 
 
 orchard. 
 
 "Of course, I mean except the swing," said Mar- 
 jorie, looking roguishly at Uncle Steve to see if 
 she had guessed right. 
 
 "You've been peeping!" he exclaimed, in mock 
 reproach, and then Marjorie knew that whatever 
 it was, it wasn't a swing. 
 
 "You know I haven't you know I wouldn't," 
 she declared, and then she began to open the lovely- 
 looking bundles. 
 
 It did seem as if everybody that Marjorie knew 
 had remembered her birthday. There were gifts 
 from everybody at home, to begin with. Mrs. 
 Maynard had sent the sweetest blue-silk sash, and 
 Mr. Maynard a beautiful book. The children all 
 sent toys or games or trinkets, and every one 
 seemed to Marjorie to be just what she had wanted. 
 
 There was a cup and saucer from Eliza, and 
 small tokens from Carter and Jane. For Marjorie 
 was a great pet with the' servants, and they all 
 adored her.
 
 178 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 But among all the bundles there was no gift 
 from Grandma or Uncle Steve, and Marjorie won- 
 dered what had become of the mysterious work 
 which Grandma had been doing all shut up in her 
 own room. 
 
 But even as she was thinking about it, Grandma 
 explained : 
 
 "Our gifts will come later," she said. "When 
 Uncle Steve gives you his birthday surprise, I 
 will add my contribution." 
 
 Just after the last parcel had been untied, Molly 
 and Stella came flying in. That is, Molly came 
 flying, while serious little Stella walked at her 
 usual sedate pace. 
 
 "Many happy returns of the day !" cried Molly, 
 "and here's my gift." She had in her arms a large 
 and rather ungainly bundle, loosely wrapped in 
 white tissue paper. 
 
 Together she and Marjorie hastily pulled off 
 the papers, and there was a beautiful cat-basket 
 trimmed with blue ribbons and lined with soft 
 cushions for Puff to sleep in. 
 
 "Oh!" cried Marjorie, flinging her arms around
 
 A BIRTHDAY 179 
 
 Molly's neck, "that's just what I've been want- 
 ing ever since I've had that kitten." And grab- 
 bing up Puff, who was never very far away, she 
 laid her in the basket. 
 
 Puff seemed delighted with her new bed, and, 
 after curiously sniffing and poking into all the 
 nooks and corners of it, she curled up and began 
 to purr herself to sleep. 
 
 Stella's gift was a dainty, little white-silk para- 
 sol, with a frill around it, which seemed to Mar- 
 jorie the loveliest thing she had ever seen. 
 
 "It's beautiful, Stella !" she exclaimed. "And I 
 shall always carry it whenever I'm dressed up 
 enough. I hope you girls will have your birth- 
 days soon, so I can give you some lovely things, 
 
 too." 
 
 "Have you had your surprise yet?" asked im- 
 patient Molly, who, according to her usual fashion, 
 was prancing about the room on one foot; while 
 Stella sat demurely in a chair, her hands quietly 
 folded in her lap, though her eyes seemed to make 
 the same inquiry. 
 
 "No, not yet," answered Uncle Steve for his
 
 180 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 niece, "but I think it's about time for us to see 
 if we can find it." 
 
 "All right," cried Marjorie, "let's all go to the 
 orchard !" 
 
 "I don't see, Midget," said her uncle, "why 
 you think the surprise is down at the orchard, just 
 because I told you I was making it down there. 
 In fact I have my birthday gift for you right here 
 in my pocket." 
 
 Marjorie looked rather blank. She knew Uncle 
 Steve loved to tease her, but she had certainly ex- 
 pected some out-of-door gift, and to receive a 
 little trinket that could be carried in a pocket 
 was a surprise indeed. 
 
 In proof of his words Uncle Steve drew a neatly- 
 tied parcel from a pocket of his morning coat and 
 handed it to Marjorie. It was about the size of a 
 one-pound box of candy, and sure enough, when 
 Marjorie eagerly pulled off the paper, the gilt 
 letters on the cover proclaimed it a candy-box. 
 Marjorie felt positive that her uncle would not 
 offer her candy as a birthday gift, for he often 
 brought her that on any ordinary day of the
 
 A BIRTHDAY 181 
 
 year. But she was mystified, and she took off the 
 cover, not knowing herself what she expected to 
 see. To her surprise, inside the box was another 
 parcel, a trifle smaller, and on the paper which 
 wrapped it was written: 
 
 "I am not candy as you thought, 
 I bring you joys that can't be bought." 
 
 Marjorie began to understand that it was one 
 of Uncle Steve's elaborate jokes, and she didn't 
 know whether further search would reveal a val- 
 uable, though tiny gift, or some absurd hoax. 
 
 She took out the second box and tore off the 
 wrappings. Molly eagerly helped her pull off the 
 ribbon and paper, and though Stella sat quietly 
 by, she, too, almost held her breath to see what 
 would happen next. 
 
 Marjorie opened the second box, and this time 
 was not so much surprised to see that it contained 
 another wrapped and tied box. On this one was 
 written : 
 
 "Oho, Miss Mopsy, fooled again! 
 Suppose you keep on trying, then."
 
 182 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Indeed, I will," cried Mopsy; "I expect there 
 are a thousand boxes, each smaller than the other, 
 and when I get to the end I'll find a bright penny, 
 or something like that !" 
 
 "If you think that," said Uncle Steve, "I'll 
 offer you two cents for the bundle as it is now ; 
 and then, you see, you'll double your money !" 
 
 "No siree!" cried Mar jorie, "for, you see, I 
 don't know. It may be a diamond ring, but that 
 wouldn't do me much good, as I couldn't wear it 
 until I'm grown up." 
 
 "Hurry up," cried Molly, who was dancing 
 about, both helping and hindering Mar jorie, "let's 
 see what the next box says." 
 
 On the next box was written: 
 
 "Just a hint I'll give to you; 
 I'm of metal, tied with blue." 
 
 "Metal, tied with blue!" screamed Molly. 
 "What can that be? A hoe, perhaps, tied up with 
 a blue ribbon." 
 
 "What kind of a hoe could you get in such a 
 little box?" said Stella.
 
 A BIRTHDAY 183 
 
 7 think it's a locket," said Marjorie, "on a 
 blue ribbon to hang round your neck." 
 The next box said : 
 
 "Very seldom you will use me, 
 But you'd cry if you should lose me." 
 
 "Ho!" said Marjorie, "if I'm going to use this 
 thing so seldom I don't think I'd cry if I should 
 lose it." 
 
 "Perhaps it's a something for Sunday," sug- 
 gested Molly, "then you'd use it only once a week, 
 you know." 
 
 "Oh, what a funny verse this is," said Marjorie, 
 
 as she read : 
 
 "I'm nothing to eat, I'm nothing to wear; 
 You can only use me high up in the air." 
 
 "I know what it is," said Stella, with her funny 
 little air of decision ; "it's a kite ! You could only 
 use that high in the air, you know; and it's that 
 Japanese sort that squeezes all up to nothing and 
 then spreads out when you open it." 
 
 "I believe it is," said Midge, "only you know it
 
 184 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 said it was made of metal. But just listen to this 
 next verse ! 
 
 "I am not pretty, I am not gay, 
 But you'll enjoy me every day." 
 
 The boxes were getting very small now, and 
 Marjorie felt sure that the one she held in her hand 
 must be the last one, unless, indeed, the gift was 
 a cherry stone. The verse read: 
 
 "At last, Dear Mopsy, you've come to me! 
 Behold your birthday gift! only a " 
 
 As Marjorie read the last words she opened the 
 box, and when she saw the contents she finished 
 the rhyme herself by exclaiming, "key!"
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "BREEZY INN" 
 
 SURE enough, the tiny box contained a small key 
 tied with a bit of blue ribbon. Marjorie looked at 
 it in bewilderment. 
 
 "It must unlock something !" cried Molly. 
 
 "Molly Moss," exclaimed Uncle Steve, "you 
 have a wonderfully clever head for your years! 
 How did you ever guess that a key would unlock 
 something? You must have seen keys before!" 
 
 "But she never saw this one," cried Midge. 
 "Oh, Uncle Steve, what is it for?" 
 
 "You've been in suspense quite long enough, and 
 now we'll try to find a lock for that key to fit. 
 Grandma and I will go first, and if you three 
 young ladies will follow us, we will go and hunt 
 for a keyhole." 
 
 Full of delightful anticipation, the three girls 
 185
 
 186 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 followed their older leaders. Marjorie was in the 
 middle, her arms twined about Molly and Stella 
 on either side, and their arms around her. Molly 
 and Midge wanted to skip, but Stella never 
 skipped, so the result was a somewhat joggly gait 
 as they went down the path to the orchard. 
 
 The south meadow was a wide expanse of humpy 
 grass-land, with only a few trees here and there. 
 
 Especially fine trees were two that were usually 
 called the twin maples. These two very old trees 
 grew side by side, their great trunks not more 
 than four feet apart and their branches so inter- 
 mingled that they were practically one tree in 
 two parts. The delightful shade of this double 
 tree afforded a favorite playground for the chil- 
 dren, and they had missed it during the past 
 week when they were forbidden to go into the 
 meadow. 
 
 As they neared the meadow, Marjorie grew more 
 and more amazed. There was nothing unusual in 
 sight : no swing, no merry-go-round, and certainly 
 nothing that a key could unlock. They reached 
 the twin maples, and then Uncle Steve said: "If
 
 "BREEZY INN" 187 
 
 you'll all step around to the other side of this 
 tree I think we may discover that missing key- 
 hole." 
 
 The girls scampered around, and, looking up 
 into the tree, they saw such an astonishing sight 
 that the three simply sat down on the ground and 
 stared at it. It was nothing more nor less than 
 a house, a real little house high above the ground 
 and nestled into the branches of the trees, just 
 as a bird's nest might be. 
 
 The house, which was big enough for the girls 
 to have gone into if they could have reached it,, 
 had a front door and a window on either side. 
 There was a veranda on which stood three small 
 rustic benches, quite strong enough to have held 
 the three girls had they had wings to fly up there. 
 The veranda had a railing around it, above which 
 hung two hanging-baskets filled with bright 
 flowers. 
 
 The door was shut and a keyhole could be dis- 
 tinctly seen. 
 
 "There's the keyhole, Mopsy, which I have rea- 
 son to think will fit your key," said Uncle Steve.
 
 188 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "But I can't reach up to it," said Marjorie, 
 looking very puzzled. "What's the house for? Is 
 it for birds?" 
 
 "Yes, for three birds that I know of, who wear 
 gingham dresses and hair ribbons." 
 
 "But we don't wear wings," interrupted Mar- 
 jorie. "Oh, Uncle Steve, do tell me what that house 
 is for !" 
 
 "It's for you, chickabiddy, and if you'd like to 
 go up there I'll show you a way." 
 
 Uncle Steve stepped over to the double trunk, 
 ana reaching up pulled down something, which 
 proved to be a weight hung on the end of a long 
 cord. The cord reached up to the veranda of 
 the little house. 
 
 "Here," said Uncle Steve, as he put the weight 
 into Marjorie's hand, "this is perhaps as useful a 
 birthday gift as the key I gave you. Pull hard, 
 and see what happens." 
 
 Marjorie pulled hard, and as she pulled, 
 a rope ladder came tumbling down from the edge 
 of the little porch. It was a queer-looking ladder, 
 the sides being of rope and the rounds of wood,
 
 "BREEZY INN" 189 
 
 while the top seemed to be securely fastened to the 
 veranda floor. 
 
 "There you are," said Uncle Steve; "there's 
 your birthday gift, and all you have to do is to 
 skip up there, unlock the door, and take pos- 
 session." 
 
 But instead of doing this, Marjorie, with a 
 squeal of delight, threw her arms around Uncle 
 Steve's neck. 
 
 "You dear, old, blessed uncle!" she cried.^ X'l 
 understand it all now; but truly I couldn't think 
 how we were ever going to get up there. It's a 
 lovely surprise, the best I ever had! You are so 
 good to me, and Grandma, too!" 
 
 Having nearly squeezed the breath out of Uncle 
 Steve, Marjorie left him, and flying over to 
 Grandma, treated her to a similar demonstration. 
 And then, with her precious key tightly clasped in 
 her hand, she started to climb the rather wabbly 
 ladder. Impetuous Molly was crazy to follow, but 
 Uncle Steve declared that it was the law of the 
 house that there must never be more than one on 
 the ladder at a time.
 
 190 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Though Marjorie became accustomed to it 
 afterward, it was not an easy matter to climb the 
 rope ladder for the first time; but under Uncle 
 Steve's direction she began to learn the trick 
 of it, and safely reached the top. Agile Molly 
 scrambled up as if she had been used to rope ladders 
 all her life ; but to timid Stella the climbing seemed 
 an impossible feat. But Uncle Steve held the 
 ladder firmly at the bottom, and Marjorie en- 
 couraged her from the top, while Molly threw 
 herself flat on the porch and reached down a 
 helping hand. 
 
 At last the three girls were safely on the little 
 veranda, and the sensation was as delightful as it 
 was strange. To sit on the little benches, high 
 above the ground, and look out straight across 
 the meadow; and then, turning to either side, 
 to see the great limbs and branches of the old 
 maple-trees, was indeed a fairy-tale experience. 
 
 Over the door swung a quaint little old-fash- 
 ioned signboard, on which in gilt letters were the 
 words "Breezy Inn." 
 
 With bewildering anticipations of further de-
 
 "BREEZY INN" 191 
 
 light, Mar j one took her little key and unlocked 
 the door. 
 
 Grandma and Uncle Steve, watching from be- 
 low, heard shouts of joy as the girls disappeared 
 through the doorway. 
 
 But in a moment they reappeared at the win- 
 dows, and their beaming faces told the tale of their 
 happiness. 
 
 "Good-by," called Uncle Steve, "the presenta- 
 tion is over and 'Breezy Inn' is yours. I've fast- 
 ened the ladder firmly, so you can go up and down 
 as you choose. The furnishings are your birthday 
 present from Grandma, but we're going back now 
 to a house that we can get into ; and you children 
 had better show up there about dinner-time. 
 Meanwhile, have all the fun you can." 
 
 Grandma and Uncle Steve went away, leaving 
 the children to explore and make acquaintance of 
 "Breezy Inn." 
 
 It was a fairy house, indeed; and yet, though 
 tiny, everything seemed to be just large enough. 
 
 The interior of the house was one large room ; 
 and a smaller room, like an ell, at the back. The
 
 192 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 large room contained the front door and two front 
 windows, also a window at each end. The smaller 
 room had no outer exit, but three windows gave 
 ample light and air. 
 
 The front room, or living-room, as Marjorie 
 termed it, was pleasantly furnished. On the floor 
 was a rug of grass-matting and the furniture 
 was of light wicker. The sofa, chairs, and tables 
 were not of a size for grown people, but were just 
 right for twelve-year-old little girls. At one end 
 were a few built-in bookshelves; at the other a 
 wardrobe or cupboard, most convenient to keep 
 things in. 
 
 Grandma's handiwork was shown in some dear 
 little sofa-pillows and chair-cushions, in dainty, 
 draped curtains and table covers. 
 
 The room at the back, Marjorie declared was a 
 workroom. In the middle was a large table, just 
 splendid to work at when making paper-dolls' 
 houses or anything like that; and round the room 
 were shelves and cupboards to hold materials. 
 
 "It just takes my breath away!" said Marjorie, 
 AS she sank down on the settee in the living-room;
 
 "BREEZY INN" 193 
 
 "I never saw anything like it! Can't we have 
 just the best fun here all summer!" 
 
 "I should say we could!" declared Molly. "It 
 seems almost as if it must be our birthdays too. 
 We'll have just as much fun here as you will, 
 Midge." 
 
 "Why, I couldn't have any fun at all without 
 you two; at least, it would be very lonesome 
 fun." 
 
 "I don't see how they ever built it," said Molly, 
 who, by way of finding out, was hanging out 
 of a window as far as she could and investigating 
 the building. 
 
 "I know," said the wise Stella ; "I read about one 
 once ; they nail the beams and things to the trunks 
 of the trees and then they nail boards across, and 
 then they build the house. But the one I read 
 about wasn't as nice as this." 
 
 "I don't think there could be one as nice as this," 
 declared Marjorie ; "and we can fix it up a lot yet, 
 you know. I shall bring some things down from 
 my room, some of my favorite books for the book- 
 shelves, and things like that."
 
 194 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Do you suppose it will rain in, ever?" asked 
 the practical Stella. 
 
 "No, of course not," said Molly, who was still 
 examining the carpenter work. "See, these win- 
 dows slide shut sideways, and then if you shut the 
 door tight the rain couldn't get in, unless the roof 
 leaks." 
 
 "Of course it doesn't !" declared Midget ; "Uncle 
 Steve wouldn't build me a house with a leaky 
 roof. Did you ever see such cunning window 
 curtains! Of course we don't need blinds, for 
 the tree keeps the sun out. It does seem so 
 queer to look out of the window and see only a 
 tree." 
 
 "Look out of the front door," said Molly, "and 
 you won't see a tree then. You'll just see grass 
 and sky and cows. But what's this thing at the 
 back, Mopsy? It looks like a pair of well- 
 buckets." 
 
 "I don't know. What can it be?" said Mopsy, 
 running to look. 
 
 There was a queer contraption that seemed to 
 be something like a windlass and something like a
 
 "BREEZY INN" 195 
 
 dumbwaiter. It was at the very end of the 
 veranda around the corner of the house. 
 
 "I know," said F-tella quietly ; "it's a kind of an 
 elevator thing to pull up things when you want 
 
 to." 
 
 "Why, so it is!" cried Marjorie. "This is the 
 way it works." And releasing a big wooden but- 
 ton, she let the whole affair slide to the ground, 
 and, then, grasping the handle of a crank, she 
 began to draw it up again. 
 
 "Well, if that isn't great!" cried Molly. "We 
 can boost up all sorts of things !" 
 
 "Here's something to boost up now," said Mar- 
 jorie, who had spied Jane coming across the fields, 
 with what was undoubtedly a tray of refreshment. 
 And sure enough, Grandma had sent some gm- 
 ger-snaps and lemonade to furnish the first feast 
 at "Breezy Inn." 
 
 "Your grandma wouldn't send much," explained 
 Jane, "for she says you must all come back to the 
 house at one o'clock for the birthday dinner, and 
 it's well after eleven now. She sent your clock, 
 Miss Midget, so you'll know when to come."
 
 196 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Apparently Jane knew more about the ways and 
 means of "Breezy Inn" than the children did ; for 
 she directed them explicitly how to let down the 
 dumbwaiter, and, then, after having carefully 
 placed on it the tray of good things and the clock, 
 she advised them about drawing it up. It worked 
 almost like a well-bucket and was quite easy to 
 manage. The tray reached the top in safety, and, 
 in great glee, the girls arranged the little feast 
 on the table in the living-room, and sat down to 
 play tea-party. 
 
 "Isn't this lovely !" exclaimed Molly, as she 
 took her seventh ginger-snap from the plate. "I 
 don't see how your grandma knew that we were 
 beginning to get hungry." 
 
 "Grandma always seems to know everything 
 that's nice," said Marjorie. "Some day, girls, 
 let's come out here and spend the whole day. 
 We'll bring a lot of lunch, you know, and it will 
 be just as if we lived here." 
 
 "Goody !" said Molly. "That will be heaps of 
 fun. We'll all bring things ; I know Mother will 
 give me a pie."
 
 "BREEZY INN" 197 
 
 "I'll like it," said Stella, with an expression of 
 great satisfaction; "because up here you girls 
 can't romp around so and run as you do down on the 
 ground. When we come for a whole day let's bring 
 a book of fairy stories and take turns reading 
 
 aloud." 
 
 "All right," said Midge; "let's have it for a 
 sort of a club, and meet here one day every week." 
 
 "Clubs ought to do something," observed Molly. 
 "Charity, you know, or something like that." 
 
 "All right," said Midge ; "let's make things and 
 then sell them and get some money for the Dunns." 
 
 "What could we do?" asked Molly. "We could- 
 n't have another bazaar, and, besides, I think the 
 Dunns have enough money for the present." 
 
 "Don't let's work," said Stella, who was not very 
 enterprising; "at least, not when we're up here. 
 Let's just read or play paper dolls. If you want 
 to work and make things, do them at home." 
 
 "I feel that way, too," said Midget ; "let's just 
 
 keep this for a playhouse. But maybe it isn't 
 
 right ; maybe we ought to do things for charity." 
 
 "Ask your grandma," said Molly ; "she'll know
 
 198 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 what's right. But I expect they gave you this 
 house to have fun in." 
 
 "I think they did, too," said Marjorie; "and, 
 anyway, Molly, we could do both. We had lots 
 of fun getting ready for the bazaar, and we did 
 the charity besides." 
 
 "Well, let's read part of the time, anyway," 
 said Stella ; "I do love to read or to be read to." 
 
 "We will," agreed Marjorie, amiably, and Molly 
 agreed, too.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE BROKEN LADDEB 
 
 As the days went on, "Breezy Inn" became more 
 and more a delight to the children. They never 
 grew tired of it, but, on the contrary, new at- 
 tractions connected with it were forever develop- 
 ing. Many additions had been made to the fur- 
 nishings, each of the three girls having brought 
 over treasures from her own store. 
 
 They had reading days, and paper-doll days, 
 and game-playing days, and feast days, and days 
 when they did nothing but sit on the little veranda 
 and make plans. Often their plans were not car- 
 ried out, and often they were, but nobody cared 
 much which way it happened. Sometimes Stella 
 sat alone on the little porch, reading. This would 
 usually be when Molly and Midge were climbing 
 high up into the branches of the old maple-trees. 
 It was very delightful to be able to step off of 
 199
 
 200 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 one's own veranda onto the branch of a tree and 
 then climb on up and up toward the blue sky. And 
 especially, there being two girls to climb, it was 
 very useful to have two trees. 
 
 But not every day did the girls spend in "Breezy 
 Inn." Sometimes they roamed in the woods, or 
 went rowing on the river, and sometimes they vis< 
 ited at each other's houses. 
 
 One pleasant afternoon in late July, Marjorie 
 asked Grandma if she mightn't go to spend the 
 afternoon at Stella's. 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood liked to have her go to Stella's, 
 as the influence of the quiet little girl helped to 
 subdue Marjorie's more excitable disposition, and 
 about three o'clock Marjorie started off. 
 
 Grandma Sherwood looked after the child, as 
 she walked away, with admiring eyes. Marjorie 
 wore a dainty frock of white dimity, scattered 
 with tiny pink flowers. A pink sash and hair- 
 ribbons were fresh and crisply tied, and she carried 
 the pretty parasol Stella had given her on her 
 birthday. 
 
 With Marjorie, to be freshly dressed always
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 201 
 
 made her walk decorously, and Grandma smiled as 
 she saw the little girl pick her way daintily down 
 the walk to the front gate, and along the road 
 to Stella's, which, though only next door, was 
 several hundred yards away. 
 
 As Marjorie passed out of sight, Grandma 
 sighed a little to think how quickly the summer 
 was flying by, for she dearly loved to have her 
 grandchildren with her, and though, perhaps, not 
 to be called favorite, yet Marjorie was the oldest 
 and possessed a very big share of her grand- 
 mother's affection. 
 
 Soon after she reached Stella's, Molly came fly- 
 ing over. Molly, too, had on a clean afternoon 
 dress, but that never endowed her with a sense 
 of decorum, as it did Marjorie. 
 
 "Hello, girls," she cried, as she climbed over the 
 veranda-railing and plumped herself down in the 
 hammock. "What are we going to do this after- 
 noon ?" 
 
 "Let's read," said Stella, promptly. 
 
 "Read, read, read !" said Molly. "I'm tired of 
 your everlasting reading. Let's play tennis."
 
 202 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "It's too hot for tennis," said Stella, "and, be- 
 sides, you girls haven't tennis shoes on and you'd 
 spoil your shoes and the court, too." 
 
 "Oh, what do you think," said Mopsy, suddenly ; 
 "I have the loveliest idea ! Only we can't do it this 
 afternoon, because we're all too much dressed up. 
 But I'll tell you about it, and we can begin to- 
 morrow morning." 
 
 "What's your idea ?" said Molly, rousing herself 
 in the hammock and sitting with her chin in both 
 hands as she listened. 
 
 "Why, I read it in the paper," said Marjorie, 
 "and it's this. And it's a lovely way to make 
 money; we could make quite a lot for the Dunns. 
 It will be some trouble, but it would be a lot of fun, 
 too." 
 
 "Yes, but what is it," said Stella, in her quietly 
 patient way. 
 
 "You go out into the field," began Marjorie, 
 "and you gather heaps and heaps of pennyroyal, 
 you take baskets, you know, and gather just pecks 
 of it. Then you take it home and you put it in 
 pails or tubs or anything with a lot of water. And
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 
 
 then you leave it about two days, and then you 
 drain it off, and then it's pennyroyal extract." 
 
 Marjorie announced the last words with a tri- 
 umphant air, but her hearers did not seem very 
 much impressed. 
 
 "What then?" asked Molly, evidently awaiting 
 something more startling. 
 
 "Why, then, you put it in bottles, and paste 
 labels on, and take it all around and sell it to peo- 
 ple. They love to have it, you know, for mosquitoes 
 or burns or something, and they pay you quite a 
 lot, and then you have the money for charity." 
 
 The artistic possibilities began to dawn upon 
 Stella. 
 
 "Yes," she said, "and I could make lovely labels, 
 with fancy letters ; and you and Molly could paste 
 them on, and we could tie the corks in with little 
 blue ribbons, like perfumery bottles." 
 
 "And we'll each bring bottles," cried Molly, be- 
 coming interested; "we have lots at our house. 
 Let's start out now to gather the pennyroyal. 
 We're not so awfully dressed up. This frock will 
 wash, anyway."
 
 204 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "So will mine," said Marjorie, but she spoke 
 with hesitation. She knew that Grandma would 
 not like to have her wear that dainty fresh frock 
 out into the fields. 
 
 But, for some reason, Stella, too, was inclined 
 to go, and with the trio, two against one always 
 carried the day ; and linking arms, in half a 
 minute the three were skipping away toward 
 the field. They had not asked permission, 
 because the fields were part of Mr. Martin's prop- 
 erty, and Stella was practically on her own 
 home ground, though at a good distance from 
 the house. 
 
 Enthusiastic over their new plan, the girls 
 worked with a will, and, having carelessly gone 
 off without any basket, they found themselves 
 obliged to hold up the skirts of their dresses to 
 carry their harvest. 
 
 "I should think we had enough to sell to every- 
 body in Morristown," declared Molly, as, tired 
 and flshed, she surveyed the great heap she had 
 piled into her dress skirt. 
 
 "So should I," agreed Midget, gathering ug
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 205 
 
 more and more of her pretty dimity, now, alas! 
 rumpled and stained almost beyond recognition. 
 
 Stella had a good share, though not so much as 
 the others, and she stood calmly inquiring what 
 they were going to do with it. 
 
 "There's no use taking it to my house," she 
 declared, "for mother would only tell me to throw 
 it away, I know she would." 
 
 "Wouldn't she let us make the extract?" asked 
 
 Marjorie. 
 
 "She wouldn't care how much we made it, but she 
 wouldn't let me make it at home, I know, because 
 she hates a mess." 
 
 "I don't believe Grandma would like it either," 
 said Marjorie, with a sudden conviction; "it is aw- 
 ful messy, and it smells pretty strong. But I'll 
 tell you what, girls: let's take it all right to 
 'Breezy Inn.' Then we can put it to soak right 
 away. We can get water from the brook, and 
 there are plenty of pails and things there to make 
 the extract in." 
 
 "We can call it The Breezy Extract," said 
 Stella ; "that'll look pretty painted on the labels."
 
 206 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Breezy Extract is silly," said Molly ; "Breezy- 
 Inn Extract is prettier." 
 
 "All right," said Stella, good-naturedly. 
 "Come on, I'm in a hurry to begin. I'll paint 
 the labels, while you girls make the stuff." 
 
 So they trudged across the field to Breezy Inn, 
 dumped their heaps of pennyroyal into the dumb- 
 waiter, and themselves scrambled gayly up the 
 rope ladder. 
 
 Almost before Molly and Midge had pulled up 
 their somewhat odorous burden, Stella had seated 
 herself at the table to work at the labels. The 
 child was devoted to work of this sort, and was 
 soon absorbed in designing artistic letters to adorn 
 the bottles. 
 
 Midge and Molly worked away with a will. Un- 
 heeding their pretty summer frocks, and, indeed, 
 there was little use now for care in that direction, 
 they brought water from the brook, hauled it up 
 the dumbwaiter, and filled several good-sized re- 
 ceptacles with steeping pennyroyal flowers. 
 
 Their work finished, they were anxious to start 
 for home at once and begin a search for the bot-
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 207 
 
 ties, but Stella begged them to stay a little longer 
 until she should have finished the design she was 
 
 making. 
 
 So Midge and Molly wandered out on the ve- 
 randa, and amused themselves by jerking the rope 
 ladder up and down. By a clever mechanical con- 
 trivance the ladder went up and down something 
 on the principle of an automatic shade roller. It 
 was great fun to roll it up and feel a certain se- 
 curity in the thought that nobody could get into 
 "Breezy Inn" unless they saw fit to let down the 
 ladder. Not that anybody ever wanted to, but it 
 was fun to think so, and, moreover, the rolling 
 ladder was most useful in the playing of certain 
 games, where an unlucky princess was imprisoned 
 in a castle tower. 
 
 But somehow, as they were idly jerking the lad- 
 der up and down, an accident happened. Some- 
 thing snapped at the top, and with a little crack- 
 ing sound, the whole ladder broke loose from its 
 fastenings and fell to the ground. 
 
 "Oh, Midget!" cried Molly, aghast, "whatever 
 shall we do now? We can't get down, and we'll
 
 208 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 have to stay here until somebody happens to come 
 by this way." 
 
 "That may not be for several days," said 
 Midget, cheerfully. "Carter never hardly comes 
 down into this meadow. Pooh, Molly, we can get 
 down some way." 
 
 "Yes; but how?" insisted Molly, who realized 
 the situation more truly than Marjorie. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," responded Midge, care- 
 lessly. "We might go down in the dumb- 
 waiter." 
 
 "No ; your uncle said, positively, we must never 
 go down on that. It isn't strong enough to hold 
 even one of us at a time." 
 
 "I guess I could jump." 
 
 "I guess you couldn't ! You'd sprain your 
 ankles and break your collar bones." 
 
 "Oh, pshaw, Molly, there must be some way 
 down. Let's ask Stella. She can always think 
 of something." 
 
 "No ; don't tell Stella. She can't think of any 
 ceay, and it would scare her to pieces. I tell you, 
 Mops, there isn't any way down. It's too high
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 209 
 
 to jump and we can't climb. We could climb up 
 the tree, but not down" 
 
 At last Marjorie began to realize that they were 
 in a difficulty. She looked all around the house, 
 and there really was no way by which the girls 
 could get down. They went into the living-room, 
 where Stella sat at the table, drawing. 
 
 "I'm ready to go home," she said, looking 
 up as they entered. "This is finished, and, 
 anyway, it's getting so dark I can't see any 
 
 more." 
 
 "Dark!" exclaimed Marjorie. "Why, it isn't 
 
 five o'clock yet." 
 
 "I don't care what time it is," said Stella ; "it's 
 getting awfully dark, just the same." 
 
 And sure enough it was, and a few glances at 
 the sky showed the reason. What was undoubted- 
 edly a severe thunderstorm was rapidly approach- 
 ing, and dark masses of cloud began to roll over 
 each other and pile up higher and higher toward 
 
 the zenith. 
 
 "It's a thunder shower, that's what it is," de- 
 clared Stella; "let's scramble down the ladder
 
 210 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 quick, and run for home. Let's all run to your 
 house, Marjorie, it's nearer." 
 
 Midge and Molly looked at each other. 
 
 There was no help for it, so Marjorie said: "We 
 can't go down the ladder, Stella, because it's 
 broken down." 
 
 "What! Who broke it?" 
 
 "We did," said Molly ; "that is, we were play- 
 ing with it and somehow it broke itself. Of 
 course, we didn't do it on purpose." 
 
 Stella's face turned white. "How shall we get 
 down?" she said. 
 
 "We can't get down," said Midge, cheerfully; 
 "we'll have to stay up. But the roof doesn't leak ; 
 I asked Uncle, and he said it was perfectly water- 
 tight." 
 
 "But I don't want to stay up here in a storm," 
 said Stella, and her lips began to quiver. 
 
 "Now, don't you cry, Stella !" said Molly, who, 
 if truth be told, was on the verge of tears herself. 
 
 Meantime, the darkness was rapidly increasing. 
 It was one of those sudden showers where a black 
 pall of cloud seems to envelop the whole universe,
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 211 
 
 and the very air takes on a chill that strikes a ter- 
 ror of its own, even to a stout heart. 
 
 The three little girls sat looking at each other 
 in despair. 
 
 Each was very much frightened, but each was 
 trying to be brave. It had all happened so sud- 
 denly that they had even yet scarcely realized that 
 they were in real danger, when suddenly a terrible 
 clap of thunder burst directly above their heads, 
 accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning. 
 
 Stella screamed and then burst into wild crying ; 
 Molly turned white and gritted her teeth in a 
 determination not to cry; while Marjorie, with 
 big tears rolling down her cheeks, put her arms 
 around Stella in a vain endeavor to comfort 
 
 her. 
 
 Molly crept up to the other two, and intertwin- 
 ing their arms, the three huddled together, shiver- 
 ing with fear and dismay. 
 
 One after another, the terrible thunderbolts 
 crashed and rolled, and the fearful lightning 
 glared at intervals. 
 
 Then, with a swish and a splash, the rain began.
 
 212 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 It came down in gusty torrents, and dashed in at 
 the open windows like a spray. 
 
 Molly and Marjorie jumped up and flew to shut 
 the windows, but Stella remained crouched in a 
 pathetic little heap. 
 
 "Somebody will come to get us," whispered 
 Molly, trying to be hopeful and to cheer the 
 others. 
 
 "No, they won't," said Marjorie, despairingly; 
 "for Grandma thinks I'm over at Stella's, and your 
 mother thinks you're there, too." 
 
 "Yes, but Stella's mother will hunt us up ; some- 
 body is sure to come," persisted Molly. 
 
 "No, she won't," said a weak little voice ; "for I 
 told Mother that we might stay home this after- 
 noon, and we might go over to Molly's. And she'll 
 think we're over there." 
 
 "It wouldn't matter if the ladder -was up," said 
 Molly, "for we couldn't go out in this pouring 
 rain, and we might get struck by lightning, too." 
 
 "Under a tree is the very worst place to be in a 
 thunderstorm," said Stella, lifting her white, little 
 face, and staring at the girls with big, scared eyes.
 
 THE BROKEN LADDER 213 
 
 Just then another terrible crash and flash made 
 them all grasp each other again, and then, without 
 further restraint, they all cried together. 
 
 The storm increased. The winds simply raged, 
 and though the old maple-trees were too sturdy to 
 shake much, yet the little house swayed some, and 
 all about could be heard the cracking and snap- 
 ping of branches. 
 
 "I think " began Molly, but even as she 
 
 spoke there came the loudest crash of all. It was 
 the splitting of the heavens, and with it came a 
 fierce, sudden flash of flame that blinded them all. 
 
 The girls fell apart from one another through 
 the mere shock, and when Molly and Midge 
 dazedly opened their eyes, they saw Stella crum- 
 pled in a little heap on the floor.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 FIRECRACKERS 
 
 "Is she dead?" screamed Molly. "Oh, Marjorie, 
 is she dead?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Marjorie, whose face was 
 almost as white as Stella's, as she leaned over the 
 unconscious little girl. 
 
 Although they tried, they couldn't quite manage 
 to lift Stella up on the couch, so Marjorie sat down 
 on the floor and took the poor child's head on her 
 knee, while Molly ran for water. 
 
 "I'm sure it's right to douse people with water 
 when they faint," said Molly, as she sprinkled 
 Stella's face liberally ; "and she is only in a faint, 
 isn't she, Marjorie? Because if people are really 
 struck by lightning they burn up, don't they, Mar- 
 jorie?" 
 
 While she talked, Molly was excitedly pouring 
 214
 
 FIRECRACKERS 215 
 
 water promiscuously over Stella, until the child 
 looked as if she had been out in the storm. 
 
 Marjorie was patting Stella's cheek and rubbing 
 her hands, but it all seemed of no avail; and, 
 though Stella was breathing softly, they could not 
 restore her to consciousness. 
 
 "It's dreadful," said Marjorie, turning to Molly 
 with a look of utter despair, "and we must do 
 something! It isn't right for us two little girls 
 to try to take care of Stella. We must get Grand- 
 ma here, somehow." 
 
 "But how can we?" said Molly. "The ladder is 
 down, you know, and we can't possibly get down 
 from the house. I'd try to jump, but it's fifteen 
 feet, and I'd be sure to break some bones, and we'd 
 be v^orse off than ever." 
 
 The two girls were too frightened to cry; they 
 were simply appalled by the awful situation and 
 at their wits' end to know what to do. 
 
 "It was bad enough," wailed Marjorie, "when 
 we were all wide awake and could be frightened to- 
 gether ; but with Stella asleep, or whatever she is, 
 it's perfectly horrible."
 
 216 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "She isn't asleep," said Molly, scrutinizing the 
 pale little face, "but she's stunned with the shock, 
 and I'm sure I don't know what to do. We ought 
 to have smelling-salts, or something, to bring 
 her to." 
 
 "We ought to have somebody that knows some- 
 thing to look after her. Molly, we must get 
 Grandma here. I believe I'll try to jump myself, 
 but I suppose I'd just sprain my ankle and lie 
 there in the storm till I was all washed away. 
 What can we do?" 
 
 "We could holler, but nobody could hear us, 
 it's raining so hard. The thunder and lightning 
 aren't so bad now, but the rain and wind are 
 fearful." 
 
 Molly was flying about the room, peeping out at 
 one window after another, and then flying back 
 to look at Stella, who still lay unconscious. 
 
 "If we only had a megaphone," said Marjorie, 
 "though I don't believe we could scream loud 
 enough through that even, to make Carter hear. 
 What do people do when they're shipwrecked ?" 
 
 "They send up rockets," said Molly, wisely.
 
 FIRECRACKERS 217 
 
 "We haven't any rockets; but, oh, Molly! we 
 have some firecrackers. They've been here ever 
 since Fourth of July ; those big cannon crackers, 
 you know ! Do you suppose we could fire off some 
 of those, and Carter would hear them?" 
 
 "The very thing ! But how can we fire them in 
 this awful rain? It would put them right out." 
 
 "We must do it ! It's our only chance !" 
 
 Carefully putting a pillow under Stella's head, 
 they left her lying on the floor, while they ran for 
 the firecrackers. 
 
 Sure enough they were big ones, and there were 
 plenty of them. It would be difficult to fire them 
 in the rain, but, as Marjorie said, it must be done. 
 Keeping them carefully in a covered box, the girls 
 went out on the little veranda, closing the door 
 behind them. A wooden box, turned up on its side, 
 formed sufficient protection from the rain to get 
 a cracker lighted, and Marjorie bravely held it 
 until it was almost ready to explode, and then 
 flung it out into the storm. It went off, but to 
 the anxious girls the noise seemed muffled by the 
 rain.
 
 218 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 They tried another and another, but with little 
 hope that Carter would hear them. 
 
 "Let's put them all in a tin pan," said Mar- 
 jorie, "and put the box on top of them to keep 
 them dry, and then set them all off at once." 
 
 "All right," said Molly, "but I'm afraid Carter 
 will think it's thunder." 
 
 However, it seemed the best plan, and after 
 lighting the end of the twisted string, the girls 
 ran into the house and shut the door. 
 
 Such a racket as followed! The crackers went 
 off all at once. The box flew off, and the tin pan 
 tumbled down, and the little veranda was a sight 
 to behold ! 
 
 It sounded like Fourth of July, but to the two 
 girls, watching from the window, there was no 
 effect of celebration. 
 
 But their desperate plan succeeded. Carter 
 heard the racket, and did not mistake it for thun- 
 der; but, strangely enough, realized at once what 
 it was. 
 
 "It's them crazy children in their tree-house," 
 he exclaimed; "but what the mischief do they be
 
 FIRECRACKERS 219 
 
 settin' off firecrackers for, in the pouring rain? 
 Howsomever I'll just go and see what's up, for 
 like as not they've burned their fingers, if so be 
 that they haven't put their eyes out." 
 
 As Carter started from the greenhouse, where 
 he had been working, the torrents of rain that beat 
 in his face almost made him change his mind, 
 but he felt a sense of uneasiness about Marjorie, 
 and something prompted him to go on. In a stout 
 raincoat, and under a big umbrella, he made his 
 way across the field through the storm toward 
 "Breezy Inn." 
 
 "My land!" he exclaimed, "if that ladder ain't 
 disappeared. What will them youngsters be up to 
 next?" 
 
 But even as he noticed the broken ladder, the 
 door flew open, and Marjorie and Molly popped 
 their heads out. 
 
 "Oh, Carter!" Marjorie screamed; "do get a 
 ladder, and hurry up ! Ours is broken down, and 
 Stella is struck by lightning, and, oh, Carter, do 
 help us !" 
 
 Carter took in the situation at a glance. He
 
 220 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 said nothing, for it was no time for words. He 
 saw the broken ladder could not be repaired in a 
 minute; and, turning, he ran swiftly back to the 
 barn for another ladder. A long one was neces- 
 sary, and with Moses to help him they hurried 
 the ladder across the field and raised it. 
 
 Another fortunate effect of the firecracker ex- 
 plosion had been to rouse Stella. Partly owing 
 to the noise of the explosion, and partly because 
 the effect of the shock was wearing away, Stella 
 had opened her eyes and, realizing what had hap- 
 pened, promptly made up for lost time by begin- 
 ning to cry violently. Also, the reaction at finding 
 Stella herself again, and the relief caused by the 
 appearance of Carter, made Molly and Marjorie 
 also break down, and when Carter came bounding 
 up the ladder he found three girls, soaking wet as 
 to raiment, and diligently adding to the general 
 dampness by fast-flowing tears. 
 
 "What is it, now?" he inquired, and if his tone 
 sounded impatient, it was scarcely to be wondered 
 at. For the battle-scarred veranda and the 
 drenched condition of the room, together with a
 
 FIRECRACKERS 221 
 
 broken ladder, surely betokened mischief of some 
 sort. 
 
 "Oh, Carter," cried Marjorie, "never mind us, 
 but can't you take Stella to the house somehow? 
 She was struck by lightning, and she's been dead 
 for hours ! She only just waked up when she heard 
 the firecrackers ! Did you hear them, Carter?" 
 
 "Did I hear them ! I did that not being deef . 
 Faith, I thought it was the last trump! You're 
 a caution, Miss Midget!" But even as Carter 
 spoke he began to realize that the situation was 
 more serious than a mere childish scrape. He had 
 picked up little Stella, who was very limp and 
 white, and who was still sobbing hysterically. 
 
 "Struck by lightning, is it? There, there, little 
 girl, never mind now, I'll take care f ye." 
 
 Holding Stella gently in his arms, Carter looked 
 out of the window and considered. 
 
 "I could take her down the ladder, Miss Midget, 
 but it's raining so hard she'd be drenched before 
 we could reach the house. Not flhat she could 
 be much wetter than she is. Was she out in the 
 rain?"
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "No, that's where we threw water on her to make 
 her unfaint herself. Can't we all go home, Car- 
 ter? Truly we can't get any wetter, and we'll all 
 catch cold if we don't." 
 
 "That's true," agreed Carter, as he deliberated 
 what was best to do. 
 
 Though not a large man, Carter seemed to fill 
 the little room with his grown-up presence, and the 
 children were glad to shift their responsibility on 
 to him. 
 
 "The thunder is melting away," he said at last, 
 "and the lightning is nothin' to speak of; and a 
 drop more of wet won't hurt you, so I think I'd 
 better take ye all to your grandma's as soon as 
 possible. I'll carry little Miss Stella, and do ye 
 other two climb down the ladder mighty careful 
 and don't add no broken necks to your distresses." 
 
 So down the ladder, which Moses on the ground 
 was holding firmly, Carter carried Stella, who, 
 though fully conscious, was nervous and shaken, 
 and clung tightly around Carter's neck. 
 
 Midge and Molly followed, and then the proces- 
 sion struck out across the field for home.
 
 FIRECRACKERS 223 
 
 "I s'pose," whispered Midget to Molly, "it's 
 perfectly awful ; but now that Stella's all right, I 
 can't help thinking this is sort of fun, to be walk- 
 ing out in the storm, without any umbrella, and 
 soaking wet from head to foot!" 
 
 Molly squeezed her friend's hand. "I think so, 
 too," she whispered. "The thunder and lightning 
 were terrible, and I was almost scared to death; 
 but now that everything's all right, I can't help 
 feeling gay and glad!" 
 
 And so these two reprehensible young madcaps 
 smiled at each other, and trudged merrily along 
 across soaking fields, in a drenching rain, and 
 rescued from what had been a very real danger 
 indeed. 
 
 During all this, Grandma Sherwood had been 
 sitting placidly in her room, assuming that Mar- 
 jorie was safely under shelter next door. Molly's 
 mother had, of course, thought the same, and 
 Stella's mother, finding the girls nowhere about, 
 had concluded they were either at Molly's or Mar- 
 jorie's. 
 
 Owing to the condition of the party he was
 
 224 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 bringing, Carter deemed it best to make an en- 
 trance by the kitchen door. 
 
 "There!" he said, as he landed the dripping 
 Stella on a wooden chair, "for mercy's sake, Eliza, 
 get the little lady into dry clothes as quick as you 
 can !" 
 
 "The saints presarve us !" exclaimed Eliza, for 
 before she had time to realize Stella's presence, 
 Midge and Molly bounded in, scattering spray all 
 over the kitchen and dripping little pools of water 
 from their wet dresses. 
 
 Stella had ceased crying, but looked weak and 
 ill. The other two, on the contrary, were capering 
 about, unable to repress their enjoyment of this 
 novel game. 
 
 Hearing the commotion, Grandma Sherwood 
 came to the kitchen, and not unnaturally supposed 
 it all the result of some new prank. 
 
 "What have you been doing?" she exclaimed. 
 "Why didn't you stay at Stella's and not try to 
 come home through this rain?" 
 
 Marjorie, drenched as she was, threw herself 
 into her grandmother's arms.
 
 FIRECRACKERS 
 
 "Oh, if you only knew !" she cried ; "you came 
 near not having your bad little, Mopsy any more! 
 And Stella's mother came nearer yet! Why, 
 Grandma, we were in the tree-house, and it was 
 struck by lightning, and Stella was killed, at least 
 for a little while, and the ladder broke down, and 
 we couldn't get down ourselves, and so we sent 
 off rockets of distress, I mean firecrackers, and 
 then Carter came and rescued us all !" 
 
 As Marjorie went on with her narrative, Grand- 
 ma Sherwood began to understand that the chil- 
 dren had been in real danger, and she clasped her 
 little grandchild closer until her own dress was 
 nearly as wet as the rest of them. 
 
 "And so you see, Grandma," she proceeded, 
 somewhat triumphantly, "it wasn't mischief a bit ! 
 It was a an accident that might have happened 
 to anybody; and, oh, Grandma dear, wasn't it a 
 narrow squeak for Stella!" 
 
 "Howly saints!" ejaculated Eliza; "to think of 
 them dear childer bein' shtruck be thunder, an' 
 mighty near killed! Och, but ye're the chrazy 
 wans ! Whyever did ye go to yer tree-top shanty
 
 226 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 in such a shtorm? Bad luck to the botherin' little 
 house !" 
 
 "Of course it didn't rain when we went there," 
 said Marjorie, who was now dancing around Eliza, 
 and flirting her wet ruffles at her, in an endeavor to 
 tease the good-natured cook. 
 
 But even as they talked, Mrs. Sherwood and 
 Eliza were taking precautions against ill effects 
 of the storm. 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood devoted her attention to Stella, 
 as the one needing it most, while Eliza looked after 
 the other two. 
 
 The three children were treated to a hot bath 
 and vigorous rubbings, and dry clothes, and in a 
 short time, attired in various kimonos and dress- 
 ing-gowns from Marjorie's wardrobe, the three 
 victims sat in front of the kitchen range, drinking 
 hot lemonade and eating ginger cookies. 
 
 As Marjorie had said, there had been no wrong- 
 doing; not even a mischievous prank, except, per- 
 haps, the breaking down of the ladder, and yet it 
 seemed a pity that Stella should have suffered the 
 most, when she never would have dreamed of stay-
 
 FIRECRACKERS 227 
 
 ing at the tree-house after it began to look like 
 rain, had it not been for the others. 
 
 However, there was certainly no scolding or 
 punishment merited by any one; and Grandma 
 Sherwood was truly thankful that the three were 
 safe under her roof. 
 
 After the storm had entirely cleared away, Car- 
 ter carried Stella home, and Mrs. Sherwood went 
 with them to explain matters. Molly went skip- 
 ping home, rather pleased than otherwise, to have 
 such an exciting adventure to relate to her 
 mother. 
 
 When Uncle Steve came home he was greatly in- 
 terested in Midget's tale of the tragedy, and greatly 
 pleased that small heroine of the occasion by com- 
 plimenting her on her ingenuity in using the fire- 
 crackers. The breaking of the ladder, he declared, 
 was an accident, and said a new and stronger one 
 should be put up. Furthermore, he decreed that 
 a telephone connection should be established be- 
 tween "Breezy Inn" and Grandma's house, so that 
 victims of any disaster could more easily summon 
 aid.
 
 228 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "That will be lovely," said Marjorie, <c but they 
 say telephones are dangerous in thunderstorms ; 
 so, perhaps, it's just as well that we didn't have 
 one there to-dajo"
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 PENNYROYAL 
 
 IT was several days before the children went to 
 "Breezy Inn" again, but one pleasant sunshiny 
 morning found them climbing the new ladder as 
 gayly as if no unpleasant experience were con- 
 nected with its memory. 
 
 Carter had cleaned up the veranda, though 
 powder marks still showed in some places. 
 
 "Why, girls," exclaimed Marjorie, "here's our 
 pennyroyal extract ! I had forgotten every single 
 thing about it. The high old time we had that 
 day swept it all out of my head." 
 
 "I remembered it," said Molly, "but I thought it 
 had to extract itself for a week." 
 
 "No, four days is enough. It must be done now ; 
 it smells so, anyway." 
 
 229
 
 280 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 The girls all sniffed at the pails of spicy-smell- 
 ing water, and, after wisely dipping their fingers 
 in it and sniffing at them, they concluded it was 
 done. 
 
 "It's beautiful," said Marjorie; "I think it's a 
 specially fine extract, and we'll have no trouble in 
 selling heaps of it. Don't let's tell anybody until 
 we've made a whole lot of money; and then we'll 
 tell Grandma it's for the Dunns, and she'll be so 
 surprised to think we could do it." 
 
 "Where are the bottles?" asked Stella. "I can 
 finish up the labels, while you girls are filling the 
 bottles and tying the corks in." 
 
 "Let's tie kid over the top," suggested Molly, 
 "like perfume bottles, you know. You just take 
 the wrists of old kid gloves and tie them on with 
 a little ribbon, and then snip the edges all around 
 like they snip the edges of a pie." 
 
 "Lovely!" cried Midget, "and now I'll tell you 
 what: let's all go home and get a lot of bottles 
 and corks and old kid gloves and ribbons and 
 everything, and then come back here and fix the 
 bottles up right now."
 
 PENNYROYAL 231 
 
 "You two go," said Stella, who was already ab- 
 sorbed in the work of making labels; "that will 
 give me time to do these things. They're going 
 to be awfully pretty." 
 
 So Midge and Molly scampered off to their 
 homes, and rummaged about for the materials they 
 wanted. 
 
 They had no trouble in finding them, for the 
 elder people in both houses were accustomed to 
 odd demands from the children, and in less than 
 half an hour the girls were back again, each with 
 a basket full of bottles, old gloves, and bits of 
 ribbon. 
 
 "Did your mother ask you what you wanted 
 them for?" said Mops to Molly. 
 
 "No; she just told me where they were, in a 
 cupboard in the attic ; and told me to get what I 
 wanted and not bother her, because she was mak- 
 ing jelly." 
 
 "I got mine from Eliza, so Grandma doesn't 
 know anything about it; and now we can keep it 
 secret, and have a lovely surprise." 
 
 What might have seemed work, had they been
 
 232 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 doing it for some one else, was play to the chil- 
 dren then ; and Midge and Molly carefully strained 
 their precious extract from the leaves and bottled 
 it and corked it with care. They tied neatly the 
 bits of old gloves over the corks, though it was 
 not an easy task, and when finished did not pre- 
 sent quite the appearance of daintily-topped per- 
 fume bottles. 
 
 And Stella's labels, though really good work for 
 a little girl of eleven, were rather amateurish. But 
 the three business partners considered the labels 
 admirable works of art, and pasted them on the 
 bottles with undisguised pride. Though penny- 
 royal was spelled with one n, they didn't notice 
 it, and the finished wares seemed to them a perfect 
 result of skilled labor. 
 
 "Now," said Marjorie, as she sat with her chin 
 in her hands, gazing proudly at the tableful of 
 bottles, "it's dinner-time. Let's all go home, and 
 then this afternoon, after we're dressed, let's come 
 here and get the bottles, and each take a basket- 
 ful, and go and sell them." 
 
 "We'll all go together, won't we?" asked Stella,
 
 PENNYROYAL 233 
 
 whose shyness stood sadly in the way of her being 
 a successful saleswoman. 
 
 "Yes, if you like," said Marjorie; "we'd get 
 along faster by going separately; but it will be 
 more fun to go together, so that's what we'll do." 
 
 About two o'clock, the three met again at 
 "Breezy Inn." Each was freshly attired in a 
 spick-and-span clean gingham, and they wore 
 large shade hats. 
 
 "I thought Grandma would suspect something 
 when I put my hat on," said Marjorie, "because I 
 always race out here without any, but, by good 
 luck, she didn't see me." 
 
 "Mother asked me where I was going," said 
 Molly, "and I told her to 'Breezy Inn.' It almost 
 seemed deceitful, but I think, as we're working for 
 charity, it's all right. You know you mustn't let 
 your left hand know what your right hand is 
 up to." 
 
 "That isn't what that means," said Stella, who 
 was a conscientious little girl; and, indeed, they 
 all were, for though inclined to mischief, Midge 
 and Molly never told stories, even by implication.
 
 234 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "But I think it's all right," went on Stella, 
 earnestly, "because it's a surprise. You know 
 Christmas or Valentine's day, it's all right to sur- 
 prise people, even if you have to 'most nearly 
 deceive them." 
 
 And so with no qualms of their honest little 
 hearts, the three started off gayly to peddle their 
 dainty wares for the cause of charity. 
 
 "Let's go straight down to the village," sug- 
 gested Molly, "and let's stop at every house on 
 the way, there aren't very many, and then when 
 we get where the houses are thicker we can go 
 separately if we want to." 
 
 "I don't want to," insisted Stella ; "I'll stay with 
 one of you, anyway." 
 
 "All right," said Midget, "and we'll take turns 
 in doing the talking. This is Mrs. Clarke's house ; 
 shall I talk here?" 
 
 "Yes," said Molly, "and I'll help you; and if 
 Stella doesn't want to say anything, she needn't." 
 
 The three girls with their baskets skipped along 
 the flower-bordered walk to Mrs. Clarke's front 
 door and rang the bell. The white-capped maid,
 
 PENNYROYAL 235 
 
 who answered the door, listened to their inquiries 
 for Mrs. Clarke, looked curiously at the bottles, 
 and then said : "Mrs. Clarke is not at home." 
 
 "Are you sure?*' said Marjorie, in a despairing 
 voice. It seemed dreadful to lose a sale because 
 the lady chanced to be out. 
 
 "Yes," said the maid shortly, and closed the 
 door in the very faces of the disappointed chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Troubled, but not disheartened, the girls walked 
 back along the path, a little less gayly, and 
 trudged on to the next house. 
 
 Here the lady herself opened the door. 
 
 "Do you want to buy some pennyroyal extract ?" 
 began Marjorie, a little timidly, for the expression 
 on the lady's face was not at all cordial. 
 
 "It's fine," broke in Molly, who saw that Midge 
 needed her support ; "it's lovely for mosquito bites, 
 you just rub it on and they're all gone!" 
 
 The lady seemed to look a little interested, and 
 Stella being honestly anxious to do her share, so 
 far conquered her timidity as to say in a faint 
 little voice, "We made it ourselves."
 
 236 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Made it yourselves ?" exclaimed the lady. "No, 
 indeed, I don't want any !" And again the cruel 
 door was closed upon the little saleswomen. 
 
 "It was my fault," wailed Stella, as they went 
 away with a crestfallen air; "if I hadn't said we 
 made it ourselves, she would have bought it. Oh, 
 girls, let me go home and make labels. I don't 
 like this selling, much." 
 
 Midge and Molly both felt sure that it was 
 Stella's speech that had stopped the sale, but they 
 were too polite to say so, and Midge answered : 
 
 "Never mind, Stella dear, I don't think she was 
 very anxious for it, anyway, but, perhaps, at the 
 next house you needn't say anything. You don't 
 mind, do you ?" 
 
 "Mind! No, indeed! I only said that to help 
 along, and it didn't help." 
 
 So, at the next house, Stella was glad to stand 
 demurely in the background, and this time Molly 
 took her turn at introducing the subject. 
 
 A young lady was in a hammock on the veranda, 
 and as they went up the steps she rose to greet 
 them.
 
 PENNYROYAL 237 
 
 "What in the world have you there?" she said, 
 gayly, flinging down the book she was reading and 
 looking at the children with interest. 
 
 "Pennyroyal extract," said Molly, "perfectly 
 fine for mosquito bites, bruises, cuts, scarlet fever, 
 colds, coughs, or measles." 
 
 The young lady seemed to think it very amusing, 
 and sitting down on the top step, began to laugh. 
 
 "It must be, indeed, handy to have in the house," 
 she said; "where did you get it?" 
 
 The girls were dismayed. If they said they 
 made it themselves, probably she wouldn't buy any. 
 They looked at each other uncertainly, and said 
 nothing. 
 
 "I hope you came by it honestly," went on the 
 young lady, looking at them in surprise; "you 
 couldn't have of course, you didn't 
 
 "Of course we didn't steal it !" cried Molly, in- 
 dignantly, "if that's what you mean. It's ours, 
 our very own, every drop of it! But we don't 
 want to tell you where we got it." 
 
 "It sounds delightfully mysterious," said the 
 young lady, still smiling very much, "and I don't
 
 238 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 really care where you did get it. Of course I want 
 some, as it seems to be a very useful article, and 
 I'm quite liable to attacks of measles." 
 
 Marjorie looked up quickly to see if this very 
 pretty young lady was not making fun of them, 
 but she seemed to be very much in earnest, and, 
 indeed, was already selecting a bottle from each of 
 the three baskets. 
 
 "I'll take these three," she said; "how much 
 are they?" 
 
 The girls looked at each other. Not once had it 
 occurred to them to consider what price they were 
 to ask, and what to say they did not know. 
 
 "Why," began Marjorie, "I should think " 
 
 "Twenty-five cents apiece," said Molly, decid- 
 edly. She knew it was a large price, considering 
 that the extract cost nothing, but she wanted to 
 swell the charity funds. 
 
 "Well, that's very reasonable," said the young 
 lady, who still seemed very much amused; "I will 
 give you the money at once," and she .took some 
 change from a little gold purse which hung at her 
 belt. "But if I may advise you," she went on,
 
 PENNYROYAL 239 
 
 "you'd better raise your price. That's really too 
 cheap for this most useful article." 
 
 The children were so astonished at this speech 
 that they made no reply, except to thank the kind 
 young lady, and bid her good-by. 
 
 "Now, that's something like!" exclaimed Mar- 
 jorie, as they reached the road again. "Wasn't 
 she lovely ? And to think, she said we ought to ask 
 more money for the extract! This is a splendid 
 business." 
 
 "Fine!" agreed Molly; "we'll sell off all this 
 to-day, and to-morrow we'll make another lot and 
 sell that. We'll get lots of money for the Dunns." 
 
 "We'll make more next time," said Midge, "and 
 ^I'll get Carter to drive us round so we won't have 
 to carry it ; for we may sell two or three hundred 
 bottles every day." 
 
 "But I can't make so many labels," said Stella, 
 aghast at the outlook. 
 
 "Of course you can't," said Molly; "but I'll 
 tell you what ! We'll ask them to give the bottles 
 back as soon as they've emptied them, and then we 
 can use them ovej again, you know."
 
 240 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Midge was a little dubious about asking for the 
 bottles back, but just then they turned into the 
 next house. 
 
 It was Marjorie's turn to speak, and greatly 
 encouraged by their late success, she began: 
 "Would you like to buy some pennyroyal extract? 
 For mosquitoes, burns, and bruises. It's only 
 fifty cents a bottle, and we'll take the bottles 
 back." 
 
 The lady, who had opened the door, looked at the 
 children as if they were escaped lunatics. 
 
 "Don't come around here playing your tricks on 
 me," she exclaimed ; "I won't stand it. Take your 
 bottles and be off !" 
 
 She did not shut the door upon them, but so irate 
 was her expression that the girls were glad to go 
 away. 
 
 "Wasn't she awful!" exclaimed Stella, with a 
 troubled face. "Truly, girls, I don't like this. 
 I'm going home." 
 
 "No, you're not, either!" said Marjorie. "Of 
 course, it isn't all pleasant, but when you're work- 
 ing for charity, you mustn't mind that. And, be-
 
 PENNYROYAL Ml 
 
 sides, like as not the people at the next house will 
 be lovely." 
 
 But they weren't ; and one after another the peo- 
 ple, to whom they offered their wares, refused even 
 to look at them. 
 
 At last, when they were well-nigh discouraged, a 
 kind lady, to whom they offered the extract, seemed 
 a little more interested than the others. 
 
 "Why," she said, looking at Stella, "aren't you 
 Guy Martin's little girl?" 
 
 "Yes'm," said Stella, meekly, wondering if this 
 fact would interfere with the sale of the 
 goods. 
 
 "Well, then, I must surely buy some," said the 
 lady, smiling; "how much is it?" 
 
 "Fifty cents a bottle, if you give the bottle 
 back," said Stella, who felt that the lady's friend- 
 liness toward her demanded that she should an- 
 
 swer. 
 
 "Fifty cents a bottle!" exclaimed the lady. 
 "Surely you can't mean that! Why, pennyroyal 
 extract isn't worth a cent a quart !" 
 
 The girls looked genuinely disturbed. This was
 
 242 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 a different opinion, indeed, from that advanced by 
 the pretty lady who had bought three bottles ! 
 
 Marjorie suddenly began to feel as if she were 
 doing something very foolish, and something which 
 she ought not to have undertaken without Grand- 
 ma's advice. 
 
 "Is that all it's worth, truly?" she asked, look- 
 ing straightforwardly into the lady's eyes. 
 
 "Why, yes, my dear, I'm sure it could not 
 have a higher market value." 
 
 "Then we don't want to sell you any," said 
 Marjorie, whose sense of honesty was aroused; and 
 picking up her basket from the porch, she turned 
 toward the street, walking fast, and holding her 
 head high in the air, while her cheeks grew very 
 red. 
 
 Molly followed her, uncertain as to what to do 
 next, and Stella trailed along behind, a dejected 
 little figure, indeed, with her heavy basket on her 
 arm.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 
 
 "IT'S all wrong!" declared Marjorie. "I didn't 
 see it before, but I do now. That lady was rig,.t, 
 and we oughtn't to try to sell anything that's 
 worth less than a cent for fifty cents, or twenty- 
 five either." 
 
 "Shall we go home?" asked Molly, who always 
 submitted to Marjorie's decisions. 
 
 "/ don't think it's wrong," began Stella. "Of 
 course the pennyroyal isn't worth much, but we 
 worked to get it, and to make it, and to fix it up 
 and all ; and, besides, people always pay more than 
 things are worth when they're for charity." 
 
 Marjorie's opinion veered around again. The 
 three were sitting on a large stepping-stone under 
 some shady trees, and Marjorie was thinking out 
 the matter to her own satisfaction before they 
 should proceed. 
 
 243
 
 244 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "Stella, I believe you're right, after all," she 
 said. "Now I'll tell you what we'll do : we'll go to 
 one more place, and if it's a nice lady, we'll ask 
 her what she thinks about it, for I'd like the advice 
 of a grown-up." 
 
 This seemed a fair proposition, and the three 
 wandered in at the very place where they had been 
 sitting on the stone. 
 
 With renewed courage, they rang the door bell. 
 It was Marjorie's turn to speak, and the words 
 were on the tip of her tongue. Being somewhat 
 excited, she began her speech as the door began 
 to open. 
 
 "Don't you want to buy some pennyroyal ex- 
 tract?" she said rapidly; "it's perfectly fine for 
 mosquitoes, measles, and burns, and scarlet fever! 
 It isn't worth a cent a quart, but we sell it for 
 fifty cents a bottle, if you give the bottles back. 
 But if you don't think it's right for us to sell 
 it, we won't." 
 
 Marjorie would not have been quite so mixed up 
 in her speech but for the fact that after she was 
 fairly started upon it. she raised her eyes to the
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 245 
 
 person she was addressing, and instead of a kind 
 and sweet-faced lady she beheld a very large, 
 burly, and red-faced gentleman. 
 
 Not wishing to appear embarrassed, she floun- 
 dered on with her speech, though in reality she 
 hardly knew what she was saying. 
 
 "Well, upon my soul!" exclaimed the red-faced 
 gentleman, in a loud, deep voice, "here's a pretty 
 kettle of fish. Young ladies peddling extract at 
 decent people's houses !" He glared at the girls 
 with a ferocious expression, and then went on, in 
 even louder tones: "What do you mean by such 
 doings? Have you a license? Don't you know 
 that people who sell goods without a license must 
 be arrested ? I've a notion to clap every one of you 
 in jail!" 
 
 As might have been expected, Stella began to 
 cry, while Midge and Molly gazed at the red-faced 
 old man as if fascinated. They wanted to run 
 away, but something in his look held them there; 
 and, anyway, they couldn't go and leave Stella, 
 who had dropped in a little heap on the floor of 
 the piazza and hidden her face in her arms,
 
 246 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 while convulsive sobs shook her slender little 
 frame. 
 
 At sight of Stella's tears, a sudden and wonder- 
 ful change seemed to come over the old gentleman. 
 His ferocious expression gave way to an anxious 
 smile, and, stooping, he picked Stella up in his 
 arms, saying : "There, there, baby ! don't be fright- 
 ened; that was only my joking. Why, bless your 
 heart, I wasn't a mite in earnest. There, there, 
 now, don't cry; I'll buy all your extract, every 
 single drop, and pay any price you want; and 
 I'll give you back all the bottles, and all the 
 baskets, and all the extract, too, if you want it, 
 and some lovely peaches into the bargain ! There, 
 brace up now, and forgive your old Uncle Bill for 
 teasing you so ! Jail, indeed ! I'll take you into 
 the house instead, and find some plum-cake for 
 you !" 
 
 Carrying Stella in his big, strong arms, the 
 strange old gentleman ushered Midge and Molly 
 into the house and made straight for the dining- 
 room. 
 
 "Folks all gone away," he went on, still in his
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 247 
 
 gruff, deep tones, but somehow they now sounded 
 very kind ; "gone away for an all-day picnic, and 
 left me alone to shift for myself. Jolly glad 
 to have company jolly glad to entertain you. 
 Here's peaches, here's cake. Have a glass of 
 milk?" 
 
 The old man bustled around and seemed so 
 anxious to dispel the unpleasant impression he had 
 made at first that Molly and Midge met him half- 
 way, and beamed happily as they accepted the 
 pleasant refreshments he set out. 
 
 "Fall to, fail to," he said, rubbing his big hands 
 together, as he watched the children do justice 
 to the feast. 
 
 The girls suddenly discovered that they were 
 both tired and hungry, and the old gentleman's 
 hospitality put them in a much pleasanter frame 
 of mind. 
 
 "Now, what's all this about pineapple extract?" 
 he inquired. "I didn't half get the hang of it, and 
 I was only joking you when you all seemed to 
 get scared to death." 
 
 So Marjorie told him the whole story from the
 
 248 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 beginning and asked his opinion as to the wisdom 
 of the plan. 
 
 The old man's eyes twinkled. "I've nothing to 
 say about that," he replied, "but I'll tell you what 
 I'll do: I'll buy your whole stock of pennyroyal 
 tea, or whatever it is, and I'll pay you ten 
 dollars for the lot. It isn't a question of what 
 the stuff is worth in itself, but a question of its 
 value to me ; and I'll rate that at ten dollars, and 
 here's your money. You can spend it yourselves, 
 or give it to your poor people, whichever you like." 
 
 "Of course we'll give it to the Dunns," declared 
 Marjorie, "that is, if we take it, but I'm not sure 
 that we ought to take it." 
 
 "Go 'long," cried the old man; "take it? Of 
 course you'll take it ! and give those children a 
 feast or something. I know you, little Miss Curly 
 Head, you're Steve Sherwood's niece, aren't you?" 
 
 "Yes," said Marjorie; "do you know Uncle 
 Steve?" 
 
 "Know him? I should say I did ! You just tell 
 your Uncle Steve that old Bill Wallingford wanted 
 to make a contribution to charity and he took this
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 249 
 
 way! Now, little ladies, if you think you've 
 enough for one day, nothing will give me 
 greater pleasure than to hitch up and take you 
 home." 
 
 The girls were glad to accept this invitation, for 
 they had walked nearly three miles in all, with their 
 heavy baskets; and much of the time with heavy 
 hearts, which are a great hindrance to pedes- 
 trians. 
 
 So old Uncle Bill, as he instructed the children 
 to call him, harnessed a pair of horses and drove 
 the three young business women back to their re- 
 spective homes. 
 
 "Well, Marjorie Maynard, where have you 
 been?" exclaimed Grandma, as Midge made her 
 appearance. 
 
 And, then, without further delay, Marjorie told 
 the whole story. 
 
 Uncle Steve lay back in his chair and roared 
 with laughter, but Grandma Sherwood was not 
 entirely amused. 
 
 "What will you do next, Marjorie?" she cried. 
 "Didn't you know, child, that it is not becoming
 
 250 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 for a Maynard to go around the streets peddling 
 things?" 
 
 "Why not, Grandma?" asked Marjorie, to whom 
 it had never occurred there could be any objection 
 to the occupation. Her only doubt had been as 
 to the price they ought to ask for their goods. 
 
 "I'm not sure that I can make you understand," 
 said Grandma, "and it isn't really necessary that 
 you should, at present. But never again must you 
 go out selling things to strangers." 
 
 "But we sold things for the Dunns at the 
 bazaar," argued Marjorie. 
 
 "You can't understand the difference, my dear, 
 so don't try. Just obey Grandma and don't ever 
 undertake such a big enterprise as that without 
 asking me beforehand. Why, I'm ashamed that 
 you should have gone to the Clarkes' and the Fos- 
 ters' and the Eliots' on such an errand! Really, 
 Marjorie, you ought to have known better." 
 
 "But, Grandma, I thought you would be pleased, 
 and it would make you a happy surprise." 
 
 "I am surprised, but not at all pleased. However, 
 Mopsy, it wasn't wilful wrong on your part ; it was
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 251 
 
 only one of those absurd mistakes that you seem 
 to be continually making." 
 
 "You showed a pretty good business instinct, 
 Midget," said her uncle; "if you were a boy I'd 
 expect you to grow up to be one of the Kings of 
 Finance. But, after this, when you're inclined to 
 start a large business enterprise, invite me to go 
 in with you as partner." 
 
 "I will, Uncle Steve; but, anyway, we have ten 
 dollars and seventy-five cents from our extract, and 
 I don't think that's so bad." 
 
 "Indeed, it isn't," said Uncle Steve, his eyes 
 twinkling; "whoever can get money for charity 
 out of old Bill Wallingford is, indeed, pretty 
 clever! I think, Grandma, that since Midge has 
 earned this herself, she and the other girls ought 
 to have the pleasure of spending it for the Dunns, 
 in any way they choose." 
 
 Grandma agreed with Uncle Steve in this mat- 
 ter, and the result was that the next day he took 
 the three girls to town to spend their hard-earned 
 money. 
 
 It was always fun to go anywhere with Uncle
 
 22 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Steve, and this occasion was a particularly joyful 
 one, for it combined the elements of a charitable 
 excursion and a holiday beside. 
 
 They drove first to a large shop, where they 
 bought some clothes for the Dunns. 
 
 The girls thought that a few pretty garments, 
 as well as useful ones, would be the nicest way to 
 use their money. So they bought pretty straw 
 hats and cambric dresses for the children, and a 
 blue worsted shawl for Mrs. Dunn, and a little 
 white cap for the baby. 
 
 "I don't suppose these things are so awful neces- 
 sary," Midget confided to Uncle Steve, "but it 
 will be such fun to see how glad they'll be to get 
 them." 
 
 Molly, who was more practical, advised some 
 aprons and shoes and stockings, while Stella's 
 preference was for toys. 
 
 "They don't need so many clothes in summer 
 time," she said, "and something to amuse them 
 will make them forget how hot it is." 
 
 It was wonderful how long that ten dollars 
 lasted, and how many things it bought! Mar-
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 253 
 
 jorie lost count of their expenditures, but every 
 time she asked Uncle Steve if there was any money 
 left, he answered, "Oh, yes, quite a bit more," and 
 so they bought and bought, until the carriage was 
 overflowing with bundles. 
 
 At last, Mar jorie said: "Now, I'm sure the 
 money is all gone, and I do believe, Uncle Steve, 
 you've been adding some to it ; but there are two 
 more things I do want to buy most awfully and 
 they're both pink." 
 
 "I'd hate to have two pink things left out," de- 
 clared Uncle Steve, "and I'm sure there's just 
 money enough left for the two. What are they, 
 Mopsy?" 
 
 "Well, one is a pink parasol for that Elegant 
 
 Ella. Not a silk one, you know, Uncle, but a 
 
 N sateen one, with a little ruffle around it, and a 
 
 white handle. She'd be so delighted, she'd just go 
 
 crazy !" 
 
 "Let's send her crazy, then, by all means. 
 Where do you purchase these sateen affairs ?" 
 
 "Oh, at any dry-goods shop. We'll pick one 
 out."
 
 254 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Into a large department store the girls went, 
 and soon found a parasol, which, though inex- 
 pensive, was as dainty and pretty as the higher- 
 priced silk ones. They already had a gayly- 
 dressed doll for Hoopy Topsy, and toys for the 
 little children. 
 
 "Now, what's the other pink thing, Midget?" 
 asked Uncle Steve, as they all piled into the car- 
 riage again. 
 
 "Don't laugh, Uncle, but you see, it's such an 
 awfully hot day and I really think it would comfort 
 them to have " 
 
 "A pink fan apiece, all 'round?" 
 
 "No, Uncle, not that at all; something much 
 cooler than that. A can of pink ice cream !" 
 
 "Just the thing, Mops ! How did you ever 
 come to think of it? We'll take it right along 
 with us, and after we've bestowed all this load 
 of luggage on the unsuspecting Dunns, we'll come 
 back here and get another can of ice cream for 
 ourselves; and we'll take it home to a nice, little 
 green porch I know of, and there we'll all rest 
 aft^y our labors, and regale ourselves."
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 255 
 
 This plan met with great favor in the eyes of 
 the three young people most concerned, and Uncle 
 Steve drove to the caterer's, where he bought a 
 good-sized can of the cold comfort to add to their 
 charitable load. 
 
 And maybe the Dunns weren't pleased with their 
 
 gifts ! ' 
 
 The tears stood in Mrs. Dunn's eyes as she 
 thanked Marjorie and the other girls over and 
 over for their thoughtful kindness. The Dunns 
 were often accounted shiftless, but the poor woman 
 found it difficult to take care of her growing 
 family and by her industry provide for their 
 support. 
 
 Nor had she much help from the oldest daughter. 
 The Elegant Ella was, by nature, self-centred and 
 vain; and though a good-natured little girl, she 
 was not very dependable in the household. 
 
 But she was enormously pleased with her pink 
 parasol, and after enthusiastic thanks to the 
 donors, she raised it, and holding it over her head 
 at a coquettish angle, she walked away to a broken- 
 down rustic seat under a tree, and, posing herself
 
 256 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 in what she felt sure was a graceful attitude, pro- 
 ceeded to sit there and enjoy her welcome gift. 
 
 But when, last of all, the can of ice cream was 
 presented, the joy of the Dunn children found vo- 
 ciferous expression. Hoopsy Topsy turned somer- 
 saults to show her delight, while Dibbs yelled for 
 very glee. Carefully putting down her parasol, 
 and laying it aside, the Elegant Ella sauntered 
 over to where the family were gathered round the 
 wonderful can. "Don't be in such haste," she said, 
 reprovingly, to the boisterous children, "sit down 
 quietly, and I will arrange that the ice cream shall 
 be served properly." 
 
 This was too much for the amused observers in 
 the carriage, and, picking up the reins, Uncle 
 Steve, with a hasty good-by, drove away. 
 
 The girls leaned out of the carriage to get a 
 last glimpse of the Elegant Ella, and saw her still 
 trying to quell the noisy impatience of the smaller 
 children, but apparently with little success. 
 
 "Now our duty's done, and well done," said 
 Uncle Steve, gayly; "and now we'll go for our 
 justly-earned reward. You chickadees may each
 
 WELCOME GIFTS 257 
 
 select your favorite flavor of ice cream and then 
 we'll get a goodly portion of each, with a fair 
 share thrown in for Grandma and myself." 
 
 The result was a very large-sized wooden tub, 
 which they managed to stow away in the carriage 
 somehow, and then they drove rapidly homeward 
 that they might enjoy their little feast in 
 j one's porch.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE OLD WELL 
 
 DURING August the weather became excessively 
 hot. Grandma Sherwood managed to keep the 
 house cool by careful adjustment of awnings, 
 blinds, and screens, but out-of-doors it was stifling. 
 
 Midge and Molly did not mind the heat much, 
 and played out of doors all day, but Stella wilted 
 under the sun's direct rays, and usually her mother 
 kept her indoors until the late afternoon. 
 
 But one day the intense heat became almost too 
 much even for the other two little girls. They had 
 been romping in the barn, and finally sat down in 
 the hay, very red-faced and warm. 
 
 "What can we do," said Molly, "to get cooler?" 
 
 "Let's go down by the river," said Marjorie; 
 "it must be cooler by the water." 
 
 "Not a bit of it. The sun's too bright down 
 there. Let's walk in the woods." 
 258
 
 THE OLD WELL 259 
 
 "The woods are so hot ; there isn't a bit of breeze 
 in there." 
 
 In sheer idleness of spirit the girls got up and 
 wandered aimlessly about. Going down through 
 the garden and across the chicken-yard, they 
 paused a moment by the old well to get a 
 drink. 
 
 As they turned the windlass and drew up a full 
 bucket of water, while the empty one went down, 
 Molly was seized with an inspiration. 
 
 "Mopsy Midget !" she exclaimed. "I'll tell you 
 the very thing! Let's go down the well, and get 
 cooled off !" 
 
 "How can we?" said Marjorie, who was quite 
 ready to go, but couldn't see her way clear as to 
 the means of transportation. 
 
 "Why, as easy as anything! You go down in 
 one bucket, and I'll go down in the other." 
 
 "We can't get in these buckets." 
 
 "Of course not, goosey ; but we can get our 
 feet in, and then stand up, and hold on by the 
 chain." 
 
 "We can't get our feet in flat, the buckets
 
 260 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 aren't wide enough." As she spoke, Marjorie 
 stood on one foot and examined the sole of her 
 other shoe, which was certainly longer than the 
 diameter of the bucket. 
 
 "Oh, don't fuss so! We can stand on our toes 
 a little bit. Come on I'll go first." 
 
 "All right," and Marjorie began to enter into 
 the spirit of the thing ; "there can't be any danger, 
 because Carter said the water was low in the 
 well." 
 
 "Yes, all the wells are low just now it's such 
 dry weather. But, anyway, we won't go down as 
 far as the water. Now listen: I'll get in this 
 bucket and start down. You pull the other one 
 up, and when you get it up here, pour out the 
 water and get in yourself, and then come on down. 
 But don't let my bucket go all the way down, be- 
 cause I don't want to go into the water. Put a 
 stick through the chain when I holler up for you 
 to do so." 
 
 "All right; hop in, it will be lots of fun, and 
 we'll surely get cooled off." 
 
 So, while the bucket stood on the flat stones of
 
 THE OLD WELL 261 
 
 the well-curb, Molly stepped in and wound her 
 thin little arms around the chain. 
 
 "Push me off," she said to Marjorie, "and hang 
 on to the other side of the chain so I won't go too 
 fast." 
 
 "Yes, but who's going to push me off when I go 
 down?" 
 
 "Oh, you can wriggle yourself off. Here, don't 
 push me, I'll push off myself and show you 
 how." 
 
 Grasping the other chain and partly supporting . 
 herself by that means, Molly, with her feet in the 
 bucket, wriggled and pushed until the bucket went 
 off the edge of the curb and began to slide down 
 the well. The other bucket came up from under 
 the water with a splash, and as both girls held 
 the upcoming chain, Molly did not go down too 
 fast. 
 
 "It's great !" she exclaimed, as she went slowly 
 down. "It's perfectly lovely! It's as cold as an 
 ice-box and the stones are all green and mossy. 
 Look out now, Mops, I'm coming to the other 
 bucket."
 
 262 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 The two buckets bumped together, and Molly 
 grabbed at the other one as it passed. 
 
 "Now, look out, Mopsy," she said, "I'm going 
 to let go of this other bucket and then I'll only 
 have my own chain to hang on to, so you manage 
 it right and stick the stick through the chain 
 when I tell you to." * 
 
 The plan worked pretty well, except that it 
 was not easy for Marjorie to keep the water- 
 filled bucket back to balance Molly's weight. It 
 required all her strength to pull on the upcoming 
 chain, and she was glad, indeed, when Molly told 
 her to push the stick in. 
 
 A stout stick pushed through a link of chain 
 held the windlass firmly, and as Marjorie lifted the 
 bucket full of water up on to the curb, rash little 
 Molly swung daringly deep in the well below. 
 
 "It's awfully queer," she called up, "and I don't 
 like it very much so low down. Gracious, Mar- 
 jorie, you spilled that water all over me!" 
 
 For Marjorie had thoughtlessly emptied the 
 water from the bucket back into the well instead 
 of pouring it out on the ground, and though
 
 THE OLD WELL 263 
 
 Molly's bucket swung to one side of the well, yet 
 the child was pretty well splashed with the falling 
 water. 
 
 But undaunted by trifles of that sort, Molly 
 proceeded gayly to give her orders. "Now, 
 Midget," she went on, "if your bucket's empty, 
 set it near the edge, and get in and come on down." 
 
 Though not as absolutely reckless as Molly, 
 Midget was daring enough, and, placing the 
 empty bucket on the very edge of the curb, she 
 put her feet in, and, standing on her toes with 
 her heels against the side of the bucket, she wound 
 her arms about the chain as Molly had done, and 
 twisted about until the bucket fell off the edge. 
 
 Had the girls been more nearly of equal weight, 
 their plan would have worked better ; but as Mar- 
 jorie was so much heavier than Molly, the laws of 
 gravitation claimed her, and she went swiftly 
 down. 
 
 The instant that she started, Molly realized 
 this, and her quick wits told her that, unless 
 stopped, Marjorie's bucket would dive deep into 
 the water.
 
 264 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 It was a critical situation, and had it not been 
 for Molly's presence of mind a tragedy might 
 have resulted. As it was, she bravely grasped 
 at Marjorie as she passed her; and with a sudden 
 bump, as the two buckets hit together and then 
 fell apart, Molly clutched at Marjorie, and the 
 buckets paused side by side, while the girls shivered 
 and shook, partly with fear and partly with fun. 
 
 "What are we going to do?" said Molly. "If 
 I let go of you, you'll go smash into the water, 
 and I'll fly up to the top!" 
 
 "Keep hold of me, then," replied Midget, who 
 had a wonderful power of adapting her;- elf to a 
 situation. 
 
 And so the two girls, each with one hand grasp- 
 ing a bucket chain and their other hands tightly 
 clasped, stood face to face half-way down the old 
 well. 
 
 "I don't think this is sucli an awfully nice 
 place," said Marjorie, looking round at the slimy 
 green walls which shone wet in the semi-darkness. 
 
 "Well, it's cool," retorted Molly, who was shiver- 
 ing in her wet clothing.
 
 THE OLD WELL 265 
 
 "Of course it's cool, but my feet ache, standing 
 on my toes so long. I wonder if I couldn't sit 
 down on the side of the bucket." 
 
 "Don't try!" exclaimed Molly, in alarm. 
 "You'll keel over and upset us both into the 
 water !" 
 
 "You said the water wasn't deep ; perhaps it's 
 only up to our knees ; that wouldn't hurt us." 
 
 "Yes, and perhaps it's over our heads ! I don't 
 know how deep it is, I'm sure; but I must say it 
 looks deep." 
 
 The girls peered downward and saw only a 
 black, shining surface, with a shadowy reflection 
 of themselves. 
 
 "Well, I've had enough of it," said Marjorie; 
 "now, how are we going to get back again?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Molly, slowly, as if the 
 idea had just occurred to her; "honest, Marjorie, 
 I don't know." 
 
 Marjorie looked dismayed, and, indeed, so did 
 Molly herself. 
 
 "You see," Molly went on, feeling as if she were 
 responsible for the situation, "I forgot you're so
 
 266 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 much heavier than I am. You know the two 
 buckets balance each other." 
 
 "Not when one is full and one is empty." 
 
 "No; but then there is somebody at the top to 
 pull them up. If Carter or anybody was up there, 
 he could pull one of us up." 
 
 "Yes, and let the other one go down in the 
 water !" 
 
 "No ; when one of us was nearly up, he could put 
 the stick in the chain, like you did." 
 
 "Well, Carter isn't up there ; I wish he was. We 
 might scream for him, but, of course, he couldn't 
 hear us from way down here." 
 
 "Let's try, anyway." 
 
 Both the girls screamed with all their might, 
 separately and % together, but they soon realized 
 that their muffled voices scarcely reached the top 
 of the well, let alone sounding across the fields to 
 Carter. 
 
 "This is mischief, for sure," said Marjorie; 
 "and Grandma won't like it a bit. I promised her 
 
 faithfully I would try to keep out of mischief." 
 
 
 
 The little girl's face was very troubled, for she had
 
 THE OLD WELL 267 
 
 truly meant to be good and not indulge in naughty 
 pranks. 
 
 "You didn't mean it for mischief," said Molly, 
 consolingly; "I'm sure / didn't." 
 
 "Of course I didn't; but somehow I never seem 
 to know what is mischief until I get into it. But, 
 oh, Molly, I can't stand on my toes any longer. 
 If my feet were a little shorter, or the bucket a 
 little wider, I could stand down flat." 
 
 "I don't seem to mind tiptoeing," said Molly; 
 "can't you take off your shoes? Then, perhaps, 
 you could stand flat." 
 
 "Perhaps I could," said Marjorie, doubtfully, 
 "but I know I'll upset doing it." 
 
 But with Molly's help, and both holding care- 
 fully by the chains, Marjorie managed to get her 
 shoes off, and tied them to the handle of the bucket 
 by their strings. 
 
 "Well, that's a comfort," she exclaimed, as 
 she stood firmly on the soles of her stockinged 
 feet. 
 
 But as the minutes passed away, the girls rap- 
 idly became aware of the discomforts of their posi-
 
 268 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 tion. Their hands became bruised with the chains, 
 their bodies grew stiff and cramped, and the damp, 
 cold atmosphere seemed almost to stop the blood 
 in their veins. 
 
 The two little white faces looked at each other in 
 the glimmering twilight of the well, and all the fun 
 faded out of the escapade, and despair gradually 
 crept over them. 
 
 Two big tears rolled down Marjorie's cheeks 
 as she said : 
 
 "I'm not going to cry, Molly, because there's 
 no use of it; but, oh, Molly, what are we going 
 to do?" 
 
 "I don't know, Mops. There isn't a thing to do 
 but to stay here until Carter or somebody happens 
 to come to draw water. You won't faint or any- 
 thing, will you?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Marjorie, almost smiling at 
 Molly's alarmed expression ; "I don't believe I will, 
 because I don't know how to faint. If I knew 
 how I s'pose I would, for I don't think I can stay 
 like this much longer." 
 
 Marjorie's head began to sway back and forth,
 
 THE OLD WELL 269 
 
 and Molly, thoroughly frightened, seized her by 
 the shoulder and shook her vigorously. 
 
 "Marjorie Maynard!" she exclaimed. "If you 
 faint and tumble out of this bucket, I'll never 
 speak to you again as long as I live!" 
 
 Her excited tones roused Marjorie from the 
 faintness that was beginning to steal over her. 
 
 "I don't want to fall into the water," she said, 
 shuddering. 
 
 "Well, then, brace up and behave yourself! 
 Stand up straight in your bucket and hang on to 
 the chains. Don't look down ; that was what made 
 you feel faint. We're here and we must make 
 the best of it. We can't get out until somebody 
 comes, so let's be plucky and do the best we 
 can." 
 
 "Pooh ! Molly Moss ! I guess I can be as brave 
 as you can ! I'm not going to faint, or tumble 
 into the water, or do anything silly ! Now that 
 I don't have to stand on tiptoe, I could stand here 
 all day, and Carter's bound to come for water 
 for the cows." 
 
 Then what did those two ridiculous girls dc.
 
 270 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 but bravely try to outdo each other in their exhi- 
 bition of pluck! 
 
 Neither complained again of weariness or 
 cramped muscles, and finally Marjorie proposed 
 that they tell each other stories to make the time 
 pass pleasantly. The stories were not very inter- 
 esting affairs, for both speaker and listener were 
 really suffering from pain and chill. 
 
 At last Molly said: "Suppose we scream some 
 more. If Carter should be passing by, you know, 
 he might hear us." 
 
 Marjorie was quite willing to a^opt this plan, 
 and after that they screamed at intervals on the 
 chance of being heard. 
 
 Two mortal hours the girls hung in the well 
 before help came, and then Carter, passing near 
 the well, heard what seemed to him like a faint and 
 muffled cry. 
 
 Scarcely thinking it could be the children, he 
 paused and listened. 
 
 Again he heard a vague sound, which seemed as 
 if it might be his own name called in despairing 
 tones.
 
 THE OLD WELL 271 
 
 Guided more by instinct than reason, he went 
 and looked over the well-curb, and was greeted with 
 two jubilant voices, which called up to him: 
 
 "Oh, Carter, Carter, pull us up! We're down 
 the well, and we're nearly dead !" 
 
 "Oh, my ! oh, my !" groaned Carter. "Are ye 
 drowned?"
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 
 
 "NoT a bit," chirped Midget, who was determined 
 to be plucky to the last; "we just came down here 
 to get cooled off, and somehow we can't get up.'* 
 
 "Well, if ye aren't a team of Terrors !" ex- 
 claimed the exasperated Carter. "I've a good 
 mind to let ye stay down there and get cooled 
 off!" 
 
 Carter was really frightened, but Marjorie's 
 voice was so reassuring that his mood turned to 
 anger at the children's foolishness. As he looked 
 into the situation, however, and saw the girls clasp- 
 ing each other as they hung half-way down the 
 well, his alarm returned. 
 
 "How can I get ye up, ye bad babies ! Which- 
 ever one I pull up, the other one must go down 
 and drown !" 
 
 372
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 273 
 
 The reaction was beginning to tell upon Molly, 
 and her bravery was oozing out at her finger- 
 ends. 
 
 "Let me down," she wailed, brokenly ; "it was all 
 my fault. Save Marjorie and let me go !" 
 
 "No, indeed," cried Marjorie, gripping Molly 
 closer; "I'm the heaviest. Let me go down and 
 pull Molly up, Carter." 
 
 "Quit your nonsense, Miss Midget, and let me 
 think a minute. For the life of me I don't know 
 how to get ye out of this scrape, but I must man- 
 age it somehow." 
 
 "It's easy enough, Carter," cried Marjorie, 
 whose gayety had returned now that a rescue 
 seemed probable. "You pull me up first and let 
 Molly go down, but not as far as the water, 
 and when I get nearly up, there's a stick through 
 the chain that will stop me. Then I'll get out, 
 and you can pull Molly up after." 
 
 But Molly's nerve was almost gone. "Don't 
 leave me," she cried, clutching frantically at 
 Midge. "Don't send me down alone, I'm so fright- 
 ened!"
 
 274 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 "But, Molly dear, it's the only way ! I'd just as 
 leave let you go up first, but I'm so heavy I'd 
 drop ker-splash! and you'd go flying up!" But 
 Molly wouldn't agree to go down, and she began 
 to cry hysterically. So Carter settled the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 "It's no use, Miss Midget," he called down, in a 
 stern voice, "to try to send Miss Molly down. She's 
 in no state to take care of herself, and you are. 
 Now be a brave little lady and obey my word and 
 I'll save you both; but if you don't mind me ex- 
 actly, ye'll be drowned for sure!" 
 
 Marjorie was pretty well scared at Molly's col- 
 lapse, and she agreed to do whatever Carter com- 
 manded. 
 
 "All right, then," said Carter. "Do you two 
 let go of each other and each hang tightly to her 
 own chain, and push your buckets apart as far as 
 you can, but don't hit the sides of the well." 
 
 Somewhat inspirited at the thought of rescue, 
 Molly took a firm hold of her chain and pushed 
 herself loose from Marjorie. Marjorie had faith 
 in Carter's promises, but she felt a sinking at her
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 275 
 
 heart as she began to descend the dark well and 
 came nearer and nearer to the black water. 
 
 With great care, Carter drew up the bucketful 
 of Molly, and when Midge's bucket was still at a 
 safe distance above the water, he stayed the chain 
 with a stick, and pulled Molly the rest of the way 
 up merely by his own strong muscles. 
 
 He safely landed the bucket on the curb, and 
 picking the exhausted child out, laid her on the 
 grass, without a word. 
 
 He then went back to the well and spoke very 
 decidedly to Marjorie. 
 
 "Miss Midget," he said, "now I'll pull ye up, 
 but ye must do your share of helpin'. When ye 
 reach the other bucket, shove it aside, that it 
 doesn't hit ye. Stand straight and hold tight, 
 now !" 
 
 Marjorie did as she was told, and, slowly but 
 steadily, Carter pulled her up. At last she, too, 
 was once again out in the sunlight, and she and 
 Molly sat on the grass and looked at each other, 
 uncertain whether to laugh or cry. 
 
 "It was a narrow escape," said Carter, shaking
 
 2Y6 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 his head at them, "and what puts such wicked mis- 
 chief into your heads, I don't know. But it's 
 not for me to be reprovin' ye. March into the 
 house now, and tell your Grandma about it, and 
 see what she says." 
 
 "I'll go in," said Marjorie, "but if you'd rather, 
 Molly, you can go home. I'll tell Grandma about 
 it, myself." 
 
 "No," said Molly, "it was my fault. I coaxed 
 you into it, and I'm going to tell your grandma 
 about it." 
 
 "I was just as much to blame as you, for I did- 
 n't have to go down the well just because you 
 coaxed me. But I'll be glad if you will come with 
 me, for, of course, we can explain it better to- 
 gether." 
 
 Hand in hand the two culprits walked into the 
 room where Mrs. Sherwood sat sewing. 
 
 They were a sorry-looking pair, indeed ! Their 
 pretty gingham frocks were limp and stringy with 
 dampness, and soiled and stained from contact 
 with the buckets and the moss-grown sides of the 
 well.
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 277 
 
 Marjorie had been unable to get her shoes on 
 over her damp, torn stockings, and as Molly's head 
 had been drenched with water, she presented a for- 
 lorn appearance. 
 
 Grandma Sherwood looked at them with an ex- 
 pression, not so much of surprise, as amused 
 exasperation. 
 
 "I'm glad you weren't killed," she said, "but 
 you look as if you had come very near it. What 
 have you been up to now?" 
 
 "We haven't been up at all, Grandma," said 
 Marjorie, cheerfully, "we've been down in the 
 well." 
 
 "In the well!" exclaimed Mrs. Sherwood, her 
 face blank with surprise. "Marjorie, what can 
 I do with you? I shall have to send you home 
 before your vacation is over, unless you stop get- 
 ting into mischief ! Did you fall down ?" 
 
 "It was my fault, Mrs. Sherwood," said Molly; 
 "truly, I didn't mean mischief, but it was such 
 a hot day and I thought it would be cool down 
 the well " 
 
 "And it was," interrupted Marjorie; "and ^e
 
 278 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 had a pretty good time, only I was too heavy 
 and I went down whizz zip ! And Molly came 
 flying up, and if we hadn't caught each other, I 
 s'pect we'd both have been drowned !" 
 
 Grandma Sherwood began to realize that there 
 had been not only mischief but real danger in this 
 latest escapade. 
 
 "Molly," she said, "you may go home, and 
 tell your mother about it, and I will talk it over 
 with Marjorie. I think you were equally to blame, 
 for, though Molly proposed the plan, Marjorie 
 ought not to have consented." 
 
 So Molly went home and Mrs. Sherwood had a 
 long and serious talk with her little grand- 
 daughter. She did not scold, Grandma Sher- 
 wood never scolded, but she explained to Mar- 
 jorie that, unless she curbed her impulsive incli- 
 nations to do reckless things, she would certainly 
 make serious trouble for herself and her friends. 
 
 "It doesn't matter at all," she said, "who pro- 
 poses the mischief. You do just as wrong in con- 
 senting to take part, as if you invented the plan 
 yourself."
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 27* 
 
 "But, Grandma, truly I didn't see any harm in 
 going down the well to get cooled off. The buckets 
 are big and the chains are very strong, and I 
 thought we would just go down slowly and swing 
 around awhile and pull ourselves up again." 
 
 "Oh, Midget, will you never learn common- 
 sense? I know you're only twelve, but it seems 
 as if you ought to know better than to 'do such 
 absurd things." 
 
 "It does seem so, Grandma, and I'll try to learn. 
 Perhaps if you punish me for this I'll grow better. 
 Punishment 'most always does me good." 
 Grandma Sherwood suppressed a smile. 
 "I always punish you, Midget, when you do 
 wrong through f orgetf ulness, because I think pun- 
 ishment helps your memory. But I don't think 
 you'll ever forget that you're not to go down the 
 well again. But next time it will be some other 
 dreadful thing; something totally different, and 
 something that it would never occur to me to warn 
 you against. However, I do want you to remem- 
 ber not to do things that endanger your life, so I 
 think I shall punish you for this morning's per-
 
 280 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 formance. You may remain in your own room all 
 the afternoon, at least, until Uncle Steve comes 
 home." 
 
 Grandma's command was not so much for the 
 sake of punishing Marjorie as the thought that 
 the child really needed a quiet afternoon of rest 
 after her experience of the morning. 
 
 Marjorie sighed a little, but accepted her fate, 
 and after dinner went to her room to spend the 
 afternoon. It was not a great hardship, for there 
 was plenty of entertainment there, and had it been 
 a rainy day, she could have occupied herself hap- 
 pily. But the knowledge that she was there as a 
 punishment weighed on her mind, and depressed 
 her spirits ; and she wandered idly about the room, 
 unable to take an interest in her books or toys. 
 
 Grandma looked in from time to time and gave 
 her an encouraging smile and a few words of com- 
 fort; for, though intending to be strict with 
 Midget, like all other grandmas, Mrs. Sherwood 
 greatly preferred to be indulgent. 
 
 After a while Molly came over, and, as she 
 seemed so penitent and full of remorse, Mrs.
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 281 
 
 Sherwood told her that, if she chose, she might go 
 up to Marjorie's room and share her imprisonment. 
 Nothing loath, Molly trotted upstairs, and the 
 lonesome Marjorie was glad, indeed, to see her. 
 After a short discussion of the affair of the morn- 
 ing, Marjorie said, with her usual inclination to 
 keep away from disagreeable subjects: "Don't 
 let's talk about it any more. Let's have some good 
 fun up here. I'm so glad Grandma let you 
 come up." 
 
 "All right," said Molly, "what shall we do?" 
 "Let's make paper dresses. Here's a stack of 
 newspapers Grandma was going to throw away, 
 and I saved them." 
 
 "Goody ! What fun ! Shall we pin or sew?" 
 "We'll pin till the pins give out, and then we'll 
 sew." 
 
 "Paper dresses" was a favorite pastime with 
 the children. Usually Stella was with them, and 
 they depended a good deal on her taste and skill. 
 But to-day they had to manage without her, and 
 so the dresses, though fairly well made, were not 
 the fashionable garments Stella turned out.
 
 282 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 A whole double sheet of newspaper was long 
 enough for a skirt, which, in a paper dress, was 
 always down to the floor, like grown-up gowns, 
 and usually had a long train. Sometimes they 
 pasted the papers together, and sometimes, pinned 
 or sewed them, as the mood served. 
 
 The waists were often quite elaborate with sur- 
 plice folds, and puffy sleeves, and wide, crushed 
 belts. 
 
 So absorbed did they grow in their costumes 
 that the time passed rapidly. At last they stood, 
 admiring each other, in their finished paper gowns, 
 with paper accessories of fans, hats, and even 
 parasols, which were considered great works of 
 art. 
 
 "Let's play we're going riding in an automo- 
 bile," said Molly. 
 
 "All right ; what shall be the automobile the 
 bed?" 
 
 "No, that isn't high enough. I don't mean a 
 private automobile, I mean one of those big tour- 
 ing things where you sit 'way up high." 
 
 "Let's get up on top of the wardrobe."
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 283 
 
 "No, that's too high, and the bureau isn't high 
 enough. Let's get out on the roof and hang our 
 feet over." 
 
 "No," said Marjorie, decidedly; "that would 
 be getting into mischief; and besides, I promised 
 Grandma I wouldn't leave the room. Come on, 
 Molly, let's climb up on the wardrobe. There 
 can't be any harm in that, and 'twill be lots of 
 fun." 
 
 "How can we get up ?" 
 
 Marjorie looked at the wardrobe and meditated. 
 "Easy enough," she said after a moment: "we'll 
 just put a chair on the table and climb up as nice 
 as pie !" 
 
 The girls worked energetically, yet careful not 
 to tear their paper costumes ; and removing the 
 things from a strong square table, they pushed it 
 up to the wardrobe. On this they set a chair, and 
 Marjorie volunteered to go up first, saying that, if 
 it didn't break down with her, it surely wouldn't 
 with Molly. 
 
 So Molly held the table firmly, while Marjorie 
 climbed up and, though it required some scram-
 
 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 bling, she finally reached the top of the heavy 
 wardrobe, without more than a dozen tears in her 
 paper dress. 
 
 "Bring up my parasol, Molly," she said, "I for- 
 got it; and bring some papers and the scissors, 
 and we'll make some automobile goggles." 
 
 Laden with these things, Molly briskly started 
 to climb up. The light, wiry child sprang easily 
 on to the table, and then on to the chair. Mar- 
 jorie lent a helping hand, but just as Molly 
 crawled up to the top of the wardrobe, her flying 
 foot kicked the chair over, which in turn upset 
 the table. 
 
 "Now, you have done it !" said Marjork. "How 
 are we going to get down?" 
 
 "It seems to me," said Molly, grimly, "that 
 we're always getting into places where we can't get 
 down, or can't get up, or something." 
 
 "Never mind ; Jane or somebody will come along 
 soon and set the table up again for us." 
 
 It really was great fun to play they were on 
 a high motor car seeing New York. But after 
 a while the game palled, and their paper dresses
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 285 
 
 became torn, and the girls wanted to get down and 
 play something else. 
 
 But neither Jane nor any one else hap- 
 pened to come along, and though Marjorie 
 called a few times, nobody seemed to be within 
 hearing. 
 
 "I should think we could find some way to get 
 down," said Molly. "Can't you think of any way, 
 Mops?" 
 
 Marjorie considered. To jump was out of the 
 question, as it would probably mean a sprained 
 ankle. 
 
 "I wish we had a rope ladder," she said, "and, 
 Molly, I do believe we can make one. Not a ladder, 
 exactly, but don't you know how people sometimes 
 escape from prisons by tying sheets together and 
 letting themselves down?" 
 
 "Yes, but we haven't any sheets." 
 
 "I know it, but we can take our dress skirts. 
 Not the paper ones, but our own gingham ones. 
 They're strong, thick stuff, and we can tie them 
 together somehow and let ourselves down that 
 way."
 
 286 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 Although obliged to work in somewhat cramped 
 quarters, the girls managed to take off their dress 
 skirts, and, as they were very full, one of them was 
 really sufficient to reach far enough down the side 
 of the wardrobe to make a jump possible. 
 
 "I'll tell you what," said Marjorie: "let's 
 tie the two together at the corners like this, 
 and then put it right across the top of the 
 wardrobe, and each of us slide down on opposite 
 sides." 
 
 When the full skirts were stretched out to their 
 greatest width and tied together by their hems, at 
 what Marjorie called a corner, the girls flung the 
 whole affair across the top of the wardrobe, and 
 sure enough, the skirts hung down on either side 
 to within four or five feet of the floor, which was 
 quite near enough to jump. 
 
 So thick and strong was the material, there was 
 really no danger of tearing it, and in great glee 
 the girls grasped their life-line and half slid, half 
 clambered down. 
 
 They came down on the floor with a sudden 
 thump, but in safety. All would have been well had
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 287 
 
 they had sense enough to let go of their gingham 
 skirts, but, doubled up with laughter, they clung 
 to them, with the result that a sudden and unin- 
 tentional jerk forward brought the whole ward- 
 robe over on its face, and it fell crashing to the 
 floor. 
 
 Such a racket as it made ! It fell upon a small 
 table, whose load of vases and bric-a-brac was 
 totally wrecked. It also smashed a chair and very 
 nearly hit the bird-cage. 
 
 And just at this moment, of all times, Uncle 
 Steve appeared at the door ! 
 
 Although dismayed at the catastrophe, Uncle 
 Steve couldn't help laughing at the astonished 
 faces of the two girls. For, jubilant at the suc- 
 cess of their descent, the accompanying disaster 
 had been thrust on them so suddenly that they 
 scarcely knew what it all meant. And costumed as 
 they were, in their little ruffled white petticoats, 
 with hats and bodices made of newspaper, the sight 
 was a comical one indeed. 
 
 "Marjorie Maynard!" exclaimed Uncle Steve, 
 "you certainly do beat the Dutch, and Molly lends
 
 288 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 you valuable aid. Would you mind telling me 
 why you prefer the wardrobe flat on its face in- 
 stead of in an upright position?" 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Steve it upset itself, and I'm so 
 sorry !" 
 
 "Oh, well, if it upset itself I suppose it did so 
 because it prefers to lie that way. Probably it 
 was tired and wanted to rest. Wardrobes are a 
 lazy lot, anyway. But do you know, I was stupid 
 enough to think that you girls had something to 
 do with its downfall." 
 
 "Oh, we did, Uncle Steve," declared Marjorie, 
 and as by this time her uncle's arm was around 
 her, and she realized his sympathetic attitude in 
 the matter, she rapidly began to tell him all 
 about it. 
 
 "We were playing automobile, you see " 
 
 "Oh, well, if it was an automobile accident, it's 
 not at all surprising. Was it reckless driving, or 
 did you collide with something?" 
 
 "We collided with the table," said Marjorie, 
 laughing; but just then Grandma Sherwood ap- 
 peared, and somehow the look of consternation on
 
 AN EVENTFUL DAY 289 
 
 her face seemed to take all the fun out of the whole 
 affair. 
 
 But Uncle Steve stood between Marjorie and a 
 reprimand, and in consequence of his comical ex- 
 planation of the disaster, Mrs. Sherwood fell to 
 laughing, and the tragedy became a comedy. 
 
 And then, at Uncle Steve's orders, the girls were 
 made tidy, and he took them out for a drive, while 
 the long-suffering Carter was called in to remove 
 all evidences of the dreadful automobile accident.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A FAREWELL TEA-PARTY 
 
 THE summer, as all summers will do, came to an 
 end, and at last it was the very day before Mar- 
 jorie was to leave Haslemere and go back to her 
 own home. 
 
 The three friends were having a farewell tea- 
 party at "Breezy Inn," and very sad were the three 
 little faces at the thought of parting. 
 
 "And the worst of it is," said Midget, "I can't 
 come again for four years, and then I'll be six- 
 teen years old, just think of that !" 
 
 "So will I," said Molly ; "we'll be almost young 
 ladies. Isn't it horrid?" 
 
 "At least we won't get into such mischief," said 
 Marjorie, laughing as she remembered the scrapes 
 they had been in all summer. "And next year it's 
 290
 
 A FAREWELL TEA-PARTY 291 
 
 Kitty's turn to come, and you'll have fun with 
 her here in "Breezy Inn," and I won't be here." 
 
 At this pathetic announcement, Stella began to 
 cry in earnest, and merry Molly tried to cheer the 
 others up. 
 
 "Well, we can't help it," she said, "and I sup- 
 pose, Marjorie, you'll be having a good time some- 
 where else." 
 
 "I s'pose so. They were all at the seashore this 
 summer, and Kitty wrote to me that she had had a 
 lovely time." 
 
 "Maybe she'll trade off with you," said Stella, 
 "and let you come up here next summer, while she 
 goes to the seashore again." 
 
 "Maybe she will," said Midget, brightening up ; 
 "I'd like that, but I don't believe Mother will let 
 us. You see, we take regular turns spending the 
 summer with Grandma. Baby Rosamond never 
 has been yet, but when it's her turn again, she'll 
 be old enough, and so that puts me off for four 
 years." 
 
 "Don't let's talk about it," said Molly, as she 
 took her eleventh ginger-snap from the plate ; "we
 
 292 MARJORIE'S VACATION 
 
 can't help it, and we may as well look on the 
 bright side. Let's write letters to each other this 
 winter; shall we?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said Stella ; "I'll write you every 
 week, Marjorie, and you must write to me, and 
 we'll all send each other Christmas presents, and, 
 of course 'Breezy Inn' will be shut up for the 
 winter anyway, I suppose." 
 
 "I suppose it will," said Marjorie, "and I s'pose 
 it's time for us to go now ; it's six o'clock." 
 
 There was a little choke in her voice as she said 
 this, and a little mist in her eyes as she looked for 
 the last time at the familiar treasures of "Breezy 
 Inn." 
 
 Stella was weeping undisguisedly, and with her 
 wet little mop of a handkerchief pressed into her 
 eyes, she could scarcely see her way down the 
 ladder. 
 
 But Uncle Steve, who came across the fields to 
 meet them, promptly put a stop to this state of 
 things. 
 
 "That's enough," he said, "of weeps and wails ! 
 Away with your handkerchiefs and out with your
 
 A FAREWELL TEA-PARTY 293 
 
 smiles, every one of you! Suppose Marjorie is 
 going away to-morrow, she's going off in a blaze 
 of glory and amid shouts of laughter, and she's 
 not going to leave behind any such doleful-looking 
 creatures as you two tearful maidens." 
 
 Uncle Steve's manner was infectiously cheery, 
 and the girls obeyed him in spite of themselves. 
 
 And so, when the next morning Uncle Steve 
 drove Marjorie to the station, the girls were not 
 allowed to go with her, but were commanded to 
 wave gay and laughing good-bys after her until 
 she was out of sight. 
 
 And so, all through the winter Marjorie's last 
 recollection of Haslemere was of Molly and Stella 
 standing on her own little porch waving two hand- 
 kerchiefs apiece and smiling gayly as they called 
 out: 
 
 "Good-by, Marjorie ! Good-by, Mopsy Midget ! 
 Good-by!"
 
 By VICTOR APPLETON 
 
 12mo. CLOTH. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDIMa. COLORED WRAPPERS. 
 
 These spirited tales convey in a realistic way the wonderful ad- 
 vances in land and sea locomotion. Stories like these are imprests* 
 upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good, 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR CYCLE 
 Or Fun and Adventure on the Road 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS MOTOR BOAT 
 
 Or The Rivals of Lake Carlopa 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIRSHIP 
 
 Or The Stirring Cruise of the Red Cloud 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS SUBMARINE BOAT 
 
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 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RUNABOUT 
 
 Or The Speediest Car on the Road 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIRELESS MESSAGE 
 
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 TOM SWIFT AMONG THE DIAMOND MAKERS 
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 TOM SWIFT IN THE CAVES OF ICE 
 
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 TOM SWIFT AND HIS SKY RACER 
 
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 TOM SWIFT AND HIS ELECTRIC RIFLB 
 
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 TOM SWIFT IN THE CITY OF GOLD; 
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 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AIR GLIDER 
 
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 TOM SWIFT IN CAPTIVITY 
 
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 TOM SWIFT AND HIS WIZARD CAMERA 
 
 Or The Perils of Moving Picture Taking 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GREAT SEARCHLIGHT, 
 
 Or On the Border for Uncle Sam 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS GIANT CANNON 
 
 Or The Longest Shots on Record 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS PHOTO TELEPHONE 
 
 Or The Picture that Saved a Fortune 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS AERIAL WARSHIP 
 
 Or The Naval Terror of the Seas 
 
 TOM SWIFT AND HIS BIG TUNNEL 
 
 Or The Hidden City of the Andes 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP', PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS, BOOKS 
 
 For Little Men^anH .Women) 
 
 By LAURA LEE HOPE. 
 Author of "The Bunny Brown" SeriesTEtc. 
 
 12mo. DURABLY BOUND. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDMfi 
 
 Copyright publications which cannot be obtained else- 
 where. Books that charm the hearts of the little ones, 
 |nd of which they never tire. 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY 
 ISLAND 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE 
 
 SEA 
 
 THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST 
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