When grandma suggested that it was nearly time for school to begin, on
that day of the boat ride, she guessed better than the girls suspected. At
the time they laughed and thought she was joking, but, after she and
grandpa had gone home, they got out a calendar and counted up and there,
to be sure, only one and one-half weeks of vacation were left.
"I didn't realize school began so early," exclaimed Mrs. Merrill in
dismay.
"I thought summer was a long time!" cried Alice, "but it isn't any time at
all!"
"Goody! Goody! Goody!" Mary Jane said happily, "then I get to start to
school like a big girl."
It was no wonder Mary Jane was happy, for she remembered that the plan was
for her to start in the really truly school, not the kindergarten where
she had gone in her other home, and any little girl likes to start to
school like her big sister.
When the day finally came, Alice was as much excited as Mary Jane herself.
For although the summer had been so pleasant she almost hated to see it
end--the free days with plenty of time for visits with mother and picnics
and marketing and all--still, school was pleasant too and any little girl
who does nice work and tries to learn, will make good friends and have
happy days, just as Alice always had had.
Mary Jane had a hard time deciding which dress to wear. She wanted to look
very grown up, so that teacher would realize she was a big girl, so she
finally decided upon a dark blue sailor suit. The one that had the red
insignia on the sleeve and that looked just like a big girl's dress. With
a clean 'kerchief peeking out of her pocket and a smashing big red bow on
the top of her brown head, she looked very nice.
Alice and Mary Jane waked up that morning the very minute they were called
for they wanted to help mother so she could go over to school with them.
And with all that good help of course they were off on time. Alice was
glad to have company going to school for Frances wasn't home yet and
wouldn't be there for a couple of weeks.
Mary Jane's heart went thump, thump as she and her mother went in at the
teachers' gate, and up the stairs and into the principal's office. And
thump, thump some more when she saw the whole roomful of strange boys and
girls and thump, thump some more when her turn came and she was sent
(fortunately with her mother along) to the first grade room--number 104.
The room was full of children, hundreds, Mary Jane thought there must be,
though the teacher told Mrs. Merrill there were about forty-five. And if
her heart went thump, thump before, it certainly went thump, thump,
_thump_ when the teacher, smiling at her so kindly, gave her a seat in
the--front-row--such a nice seat for her very own! and she sat down and
tried to look as though she had been used to going to school all her whole
life.
For a minute she couldn't look around or anything, she felt so queer. Then
she glanced at the next seat and there, sitting right beside her,
was--whom do you suppose? Ann! The same pretty little Ann who had been
lost on the boat. Immediately Mary Jane forgot all about being afraid and
thumping hearts and strangeness and everything and began to like school.
The two little girls had much to say about what they would do at recess
and where did they live and everything, so the time before school began
passed very quickly.
Suddenly, in the midst of their talk, a bell rang, "GONG-GONG!" Two loud
tones close together that way, and school began. Mary Jane Merrill was in
a really truly school like the big girl she was getting to be.
Ann came home with Mary Jane that first afternoon and Mrs. Merrill
discovered that her name was Ann Ellis and that she lived two blocks from
their own home and that the two little girls would no doubt find it very
easy to be friends. They began having a good time that very afternoon and
they planned still better times when Betty would be back and they could
all play together. Now wasn't that fine!
Mary Jane found that she liked school every bit as much as she had thought
she would. She liked her teacher, a charming Miss Treavor, and she liked
her studies. But most of all she liked the fun she had on the playground.
In the big cities, like Chicago, where lots of girls and boys have no
yards, the school yards are the only places were children can play. So, to
make everything safe and orderly, the school folks have a playground
teacher stay at school all the day, to help in the games and to see that
every one has a happy time. The playground teacher at Mary Jane's school
liked little girls very much and she knew many good games for them to
play. So in addition to "London Bridge" and "Drop the Handkerchief" and
"Tag" that all children play, Mary Jane learned "Roman Soldiers" and
"Ghost Walk" and "Three times Three."
Of the new ones, Mary Jane liked "Ghost Walk" the best. To play it, the
girls and boys made a big circle, then they selected some one to be
"Ghost." This person stood in the middle of the circle and everybody shut
eyes tight, very tight. Then the Ghost, while every one kept very quiet,
tried to tip-toe to the edge of the circle, slip out between two folks and
get away without being caught. That may sound easy, but played in a yard
full of romping boys and girls, it is not really as easy as it might seem
and it was lots of fun, because often folks would think the "Ghost" was
near them and would try to grab--and the joke was on them because all the
while, maybe, the "ghost" was in another part of the ring. And whenever
folks thought they caught the "Ghost" and _didn't_, then every one opened
their eyes, the person who had made the mistake had to get out of the
circle and the game began again. But if the "Ghost" really did get out of
the circle without being caught, then the "Ghost" could hide anywhere in
the yard and the game became an old-fashioned hide-and-seek with everybody
hunting one lucky person.
One day, when Mary Jane was "Ghost," she was determined she would get out
of that circle without getting caught. She had tried it many a time before
and failed; this time she was going to do it. She tiptoed, oh, so softly
over the loose gravel to the edge of the circle. Then noiselessly she
dropped down on hands and knees and, without a thought for her dress,
crawled slowly between Ann and the girl next to her. She could hardly keep
from giggling, it was so funny to be so close she almost bumped them and
yet not to be discovered. Now she was right between them, now she was
almost outside--now she was free and away she dashed to the spot she had
long ago picked out as a hiding place for just such a time as this.
The folks in the circle waited--but nobody was caught, so they shouted,
"Ghost Walk?" and when the "ghost" didn't answer they opened their eyes
and--no Mary Jane was there!
"I'll get her," shouted Ann, "I'll find her! I'll bet she got out on your
side of the circle, Janny, she never could have passed _me_!"
"I'll find her myself," answered Janny, "but she never passed by me, she
didn't!"
So they hunted, up and down the yard, around the bushes, by the doorway,
everywhere they could think of. But no sign of Mary Jane did they
discover. They hunted and they hunted till the gong sounded and they had
to go into school again. But not a sign of any Mary Jane did they find.
Was Mary Jane lost? Miss Treavor must be told so everybody could hunt, for
something surely must have happened to a little girl who didn't answer the
recess bell when it rang for school to begin.
Now it happened that some days before, when Mary Jane had first learned to
play "Ghost walk" she hunted around the yard for a good place to hide--in
case she ever succeeded in getting out of the circle so she _could_ hide.
She didn't want to hide among the bushes because that was the first place
the children looked; she didn't want to hide in the doorway because that
was against rules and if a child was discovered there by a teacher, the
child had to go straight upstairs and stay the rest of recess. And there
didn't seem to be any other place. But there was another hiding place--and
Mary Jane found it. Around the corner of the building, on the side nearest
the furnace entrance, there was a jog in the brick wall. And in front of
the little niche made by this jog, boards left by some carpenters had been
carelessly tossed.
"I could climb over the boards," Mary Jane had thought, "and hide down
behind and nobody'd ever find me--ever."
So when her time came, and she really did get out of the circle without
being caught, she didn't have to stop and hunt a hiding place; she knew
exactly where she wanted to go.
But there was one thing Mary Jane hadn't figured on; one thing she didn't
even think of as she crouched down behind her boards while the children
hunted for her, hither and yon over the school yard. She hadn't thought
that way off, 'round the corner and behind boards that way, she
couldn't--_hear_. The sounds of playing and romping seemed so quiet, so
quiet that they were hardly noticeable. She didn't hear the bell and she
didn't even notice the sudden quiet when the children fell in line to
march upstairs. She sat there, huddled in a snug little heap, and she
laughed to herself about the joke she was playing on her mates.
To be sure the time _did_ seem pretty long and she thought they were very
stupid--but then--she never suspected that recess was over and--
Till suddenly there descended upon her a cloud of chalk dust! It powdered
her face and dress and shoes and made her forget all about being quiet and
jump up with a lively scream of fright.
Overhead she heard Miss Treavor's voice, exclaiming, "Whatever in the
world!" And then, before she could quite get the dust out of her eyes and
understand what had happened, Miss Treavor and two other teachers who had
heard the scream, stood before her and the whole story came out. Miss
Treavor tried not to laugh when Mary Jane told her she was hiding but she
couldn't help it. Mary Jane looked so be-powdered and forlorn. But Mary
Jane didn't mind the laughing because at the same time, Miss Treavor
lifted her out from behind the boards and set her down in the cheerful
sunlight.
"That _was_ a good place to hide," the teacher admitted, "and you were a
clever little girl to think of it. But I believe, dear," she added kindly,
"that next time you'd better hide some place where you can hear the bell,
even though you _are_ more likely to get caught."
And Mary Jane promised that she would never, never hide in such a very
good place again.
Mary Jane hated to go back into the school room all mussed and tumbled as
she was, so Miss Treavor sent for Alice and the two little girls skipped
home for a fresh dress and clean ribbons so Mary Jane could enjoy the
classes.
When, a half an hour later, she came back, with the dark blue dress
changed to a plaid gingham and the red bow changed to green, the children
wanted to know where she had been and what had happened. But Miss Treavor
wouldn't tell. And she had made Mary Jane promise not to tell, because
that place was _such_ a good hiding place that the teachers didn't want
other folks finding it and hiding there to make trouble too.
But all of Mary Jane's school fun wasn't from trouble. That was just one
day. Most of the time, she played without anything happening just as the
other folks did. And all the time she made more friends and had a better
time, till, when Betty came back from the country, she knew most everybody
in her room.
She liked school so very much that the days slipped by one after another
so fast a person could hardly count them--one day and another day and
another day--just that way. Till one Monday morning when they went to
school, Miss Treavor announced, "Do you boys and girls know what we are
going to do to-day? We're going to start making Christmas presents.
Because Christmas is only _three weeks away_!"
"Christmas!" thought Mary Jane, with a thrill of joy, "Christmas! Why,
they _do_ have Christmas in Chicago! I wonder what I'll get and what I'll
do!"