[Illustration: “They turned south, down the quiet, narrow street at the
right” (_Page 90_) _Frontispiece_]
MARY JANE DOWN SOUTH
BY
CLARA INGRAM JUDSON
AUTHOR OF
“MARY JANE--HER BOOK,” “MARY JANE--HER VISIT,” “MARY
JANE’S KINDERGARTEN,” “MARY JANE’S CITY HOME,”
“MARY JANE IN NEW ENGLAND,” ETC.
_ILLUSTRATED BY
FRANCES WHITE_
PUBLISHERS
BARSE & CO.
NEW YORK, N. Y. NEWARK, N. J.
Copyright, 1919,
by
BARSE & CO.
PRINTED IN THE U. S. A.
TO ALICE
CONTENTS
PAGE
“ALL ABOARD FOR FLORIDA!” 11
THE DAY IN BIRMINGHAM 24
AT THE OSTRICH FARM 39
“THE BOAT’S A-FIRE!” 53
A BIT OF SUNNY SPAIN 68
“WHOA! PLEASE WHOA!” 81
LUNCHEON BY THE OLD WELL 94
A DAY ON THE BEACH 108
AT SEA IN A STORM 122
WALKING THE PLANK 135
CATCHING THE BOAT 146
ON THE OCKLAWAHA 159
“HELP YOURSELVES, CHILDREN! HELP YOURSELVES!” 172
PIGS BY THE WAY 185
HOME AGAIN 198
ILLUSTRATIONS
“They turned south, down the quiet, narrow street
at the right” _Frontispiece_
PAGE
“This is the living room and here’s the dining
room and here, where you can see the river
bed, is the porch” 58
“The owner of the orchard let the girls pick
fruit and take pictures” 80
“They went in wading after crawdads” 114
MARY JANE DOWN SOUTH
“ALL ABOARD FOR FLORIDA!”
The week between the time Mary Jane heard of the trip South and the
time for starting seemed unusually short. So short that Mary Jane
thought it surely must have had only three days in it--that is, she
thought that till she counted up and found to her surprise that this
very, very short week had had Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday,
Sunday, Monday and now a Tuesday just exactly as all other weeks have.
“But the days haven’t been the same, Alice, I just know they haven’t,”
insisted the little girl.
“Yes they have,” laughed Alice, “only you’ve had so much to do and so
much fun that you haven’t noticed how many hours have gone by--that’s
the difference.”
“I should say we _have_ done lots,” said Mary Jane, “if that’s the
matter. I never saw such lots to do--never!”
And indeed it had been a busy week in the Merrill household. On
Wednesday of the week before Mr. Merrill had announced that business
would take him on a two weeks’ trip South and that he would take all
the family with him. It seemed such a good chance to give the two
girls, Alice, a big girl of twelve, and Mary Jane, a busy kindergartner
of five, a glimpse of the tropical part of their country and a better
understanding of the geography Alice was already studying and Mary Jane
would soon begin.
But a week gave very little time to make ready so everybody had to
help. There were gingham dresses from last summer’s wardrobe to get
out and let down; each little girl had to have a new bathing suit,
for who wants to go South without a swim in the ocean? New hats must
be purchased because the velvet hats Alice and Mary Jane were wearing
would be very heavy in the warm southern sunshine. Then the house must
be shut up for its two weeks’ vacation, and everything must be made
snug so that cold weather would do no damage. Mary Jane was so busy
helping do errands and getting things out of drawers and closets and
helping to pack that it’s no wonder she thought the time went quickly.
“Better plan so you can get along without your trunk some days,”
suggested Mr. Merrill as he came into the house Tuesday evening,
“because when we’re on the jump as we will be you can’t always be sure
of getting your trunk every time.”
“Then I think I’ll have to take another hand bag,” said Mrs. Merrill
thoughtfully.
“Goody! Goody! Goody!” shouted Mary Jane. She was coming down the front
stairs as she heard her father speak and she dashed back up again,
hunted out the little black grip she was sure her mother meant to take
and began packing.
“She’ll want pencils in it, and paper and my Marie Georgannamore ’cause
I don’t ever have time to play with her when I’m in school,” said the
little girl as she packed the things. “And rubbers, Mother always
thinks about rubbers and--” but by that time Mary Jane was so excited,
she piled everything from the top of her dresser pell-mell into the
bag, and then hurried down stairs.
“Here it is, Mother,” she cried gayly, “you don’t have to pack it
’cause I’ve got it all done--every bit.” And she set the bag on the
living room table.
Mrs. Merrill glanced at Mary Jane’s flushed face and saw how eager she
was to help but that all the excitement and hustling were making her a
little tired so she said, “That’s the grip I want, Mary Jane, and thank
you for bringing it down to me. But before we pack it suppose you and
Alice sit down by me and plan just what we want to take.”
“Yes, only I want to carry it,” said Mary Jane; “I’m plenty bigger
’nough to carry my own grip.”
“Why, Mother,” exclaimed Alice, “you wouldn’t let her carry a grip of
her own, would you? She’s too little. I’ll be the one to carry it.”
“I thought you were going to carry your camera, Alice,” said Mrs.
Merrill quietly, “and one thing for each girl is enough to look after.
Suppose going down we pack yours and my things together in the suit
case and let Mary Jane have her own toilet things and extra dress in
the little grip. It isn’t too heavy for her to carry if she must. Then
you can have your camera. Coming back you may not want to take so many
pictures. We might pack your camera in the trunk and then you could
have _your_ things in the grip and take your turn traveling like a lady
all alone. How would that be?”
Both girls were pleased with that plan so Mrs. Merrill said she would
get just the right things to put in the bags while the girls went to
tell their best friends good-by.
Mary Jane’s little chum, Doris Dana, lived next door, so she didn’t
have far to go. Doris was at home and half way expecting Mary Jane
because she knew that the Merrills were to leave early in the morning.
She pulled Mary Jane into the living room in a jiffy and showed her
a big book of pictures she had been looking at. “Look at these, Mary
Jane,” she cried, “and these and these and these! Mother says you’ll
see them all down South. Oh, dear, but I wish I was going too!”
Mary Jane had never seen the big picture folder before (her father
had promised that she should have one and he was to bring it to her
that very evening) and she was as interested as Doris in the wonderful
pictures it contained. They spread the folder out on the floor and
looked at the big orange trees, the palm trees and the heavy Spanish
moss that made every sort of tree look so queer. They looked at rivers
and lakes and, most wonderful of all, a family of alligators.
“I like those best,” said Doris positively, “and why I like ’em is
because they’re so awful. I wish I had one, I do.”
“Do they really grow that way?” asked Mary Jane of Doris’s mother.
“Indeed they do,” laughed Mrs. Dana. “I’ve seen hundreds of them just
like that picture and you will too.”
“Oh, bring me one! Bring me one!” cried Doris; “will you, Mary Jane?”
Before Mary Jane had a chance to answer the telephone rang and Mrs.
Dana took a message from Mrs. Merrill that Mary Jane was to come home
at once. So, with a hasty promise whispered in Doris’s ear, that she
would surely send an alligator, Mary Jane ran skipping across the snowy
lawn to her home.
When dinner was over an hour later, Mr. Merrill went to the hall and
took from his coat pocket a bundle of railway folders.
“There you are, girls,” he said as he laid them on the table; “there
are the pictures I promised you. I think you’ll find something about
every place you’re going to visit.”
Alice and Mary both grabbed for folders and in two minutes time they
had spread them out on the floor in front of the cozy fireplace and
were peering through them eagerly. Mr. and Mrs. Merrill, who had taken
the same trip before, explained in just what order the pictures should
be put and told stories of their trip.
“Can’t we take these along with us?” asked Mary Jane; “that would be
fun.”
“It might be fun,” agreed Mr. Merrill, “but it would also be a nuisance
because we’ll have plenty to carry as it is. Let’s fold them up--it’s
bed time now you see, girls--and put them in the table drawer here.
Then first thing when you come back you can get them out and see if you
really saw all we think you are going to.”
Mary Jane thought of course she never, never, never would go to sleep
because she kept thinking about riding on the train and what she would
order in the dining car and her new hat and lunch at the hotel the
next day (Mary Jane loved to eat at a hotel) and those queer looking
alligators she had seen pictures of and everything. But she must have
slept, for in about a minute (or so it seemed) she sat straight up in
bed and there was the sun shining straight on to her out-of-door bed
and father out at the garage was locking the door and saying, “There, I
guess that’s all done!”
She dashed into the house and bathed and dressed in a jiffy. Mother had
laid out her things so she put on everything she would wear on the trip
except the dress. Of course she wouldn’t put on her new traveling dress
till the last minute--an old frock would do till then. Just as she was
going down the stairs she met Alice coming up.
“There you are,” said Alice, “I was just coming up to call you,
breakfast’s ready!”
After breakfast each person helped and in short order the dishes were
washed and put away, the living room tidied and the upstairs set in
order. By half past nine, folks were dressed and ready to go. It surely
seemed good to get out into the sunshine because with the furnace fire
out so Father could be sure there was no danger of fire, the house was
beginning to get pretty shivery.
“Think about the flowers you’ll see Saturday, girls,” said Mr. Merrill,
“and dance around a bit to warm up. The car will be along in a minute.”
“Won’t we see flowers till Saturday?” asked Mary Jane. “I thought we
were going to-day.”
“So we are,” laughed Mr. Merrill, “but going takes a while. We start
South to-night. Then we ride all to-night and all to-morrow. To-morrow
night we get to Birmingham. You remember we are going to stop a day
with Uncle Will there. All day Friday you’ll be seeing wonderful things
in that city. Then Friday night we’ll get on a sleeper train again and
Saturday morning we’ll be in Jacksonville.”
“And there’s flowers,” added Mary Jane.
“Just so,” said Mr. Merrill.
“And alligators?” asked the little girl.
“Oh, lots of alligators they tell me,” laughed Mr. Merrill. But just
then the traction came along so Mary Jane didn’t have a chance to
explain her plan of bringing alligators home to Doris, which was
perhaps just as well, for Mr. Merrill had plenty to think of as it was.
With buying hats and shoes and getting lunch and dinner the day went on
wings and nine o’clock came before Mary Jane had had time to think of
being tired.
The big train pulled in just on time, its lights all a-blazing and the
observation car looking most inviting. The porter had the berths made
up ready and, in spite of the fact that Mary Jane had just declared she
was not tired a bit and could sit up for two hours yet, that soft white
pillow and turned down cover looked very nice. She decided that the
observation car could wait till morning for inspection.
The last thing she said, before Mrs. Merrill pulled the heavy curtains
together for the night was, “Mother, may I have anything I want for
breakfast? If I may, I’m going to have two orders of hashed brown
potatoes and not anything else!”
THE DAY IN BIRMINGHAM
“Beg pardon, Miss?” The colored waiter in the dining car bent lower,
the better to hear Mary Jane’s order.
“That’s all I want,” said Mary Jane in surprise; “just two orders of
hashed brown potatoes and not anything else.”
“Oh, Mary Jane,” laughed Mrs. Merrill, “do have something else. And
you must have a little fruit. Suppose you get an orange and then some
cereal and then one order of potatoes--two would be too much.”
“Yes, it would if I had to eat all that first,” said Mary Jane sadly.
“But I’ve been _counting_ on those potatoes, Mother! You remember the
good ones we had on the diner coming home from Grandmother’s last
summer? And you know I ate more than one order _then_.”
“So you did,” agreed Mrs. Merrill, “and I promised you that you should
have all you wanted next time we ate in a diner. Very well, suppose we
compromise. You eat the orange and you may skip the cereal this time.
But I think she had better have only one order of potatoes at the
time,” she added to the waiter, “for they will get cool.”
While Mary Jane was eating her orange she looked out of the window at
the changing scene. All through the night when she had been soundly
sleeping, the train had carried her south through the prairies she
was used to seeing, south through the wooded stretches and dull brown
fields. And now, early the next morning, she found herself riding
through the edges of coal lands. Long strings of loaded coal cars stood
upon the railroad sidings; groups of workers stood about the tiny
stations the train flew past and the whole country seemed strange and
different to the little girl.
But with all her watching out of the window, Mary Jane didn’t miss
noticing the twinkle in the eye of the waiter and she whispered to
her sister, “Alice! I think that waiter man thinks it’s funny to like
potatoes and I think he’s making me some nice ones, I do.”
And so it proved, for when the orange was eaten, he set before Mary
Jane the biggest platter of hashed brown potatoes she had ever seen.
All brown and nice they were, with bits of parsley ’round the side and
a pat of butter for her own particular use.
“Yumy-yum!” exclaimed Mary Jane as the platter was put before her, “I’m
so glad I came!” And there was no watching scenery till every scrap of
potato on the platter was eaten up.
“Want your other order now?” asked Mrs. Merrill, when she saw that
nothing but parsley was left on the platter.
“Well--” replied Mary Jane doubtfully, “do you suppose they’ll have
hashed brown potatoes for lunch? ’Cause if they will, I think I’ll save
my other order till then. I’m not just as hungry as I was.”
“Good reason why,” laughed Alice, “come on, let’s not eat any more now.
Let’s go into the observation car.”
The girls found riding in the observation car almost as much fun as
eating in the diner. First they stood out on the “back porch” as Mary
Jane called it and got good breaths of fresh air; then they came
inside and settled themselves in big easy chairs and looked at all the
“funny papers” they found in the car library--that took a long time
because there were so many. Next they wrote letters, Mary Jane didn’t
really write to be sure, but she drew a very good picture of the coal
cars they passed on the way and of hills and valleys and put it in an
envelope ready to send to Doris; and Alice wrote a nice long letter to
her chum, Frances. And then, much to every one’s surprise, the dining
car man came through the train calling, “First call for luncheon!
Dining car third car in front!” and it was time to wash up ready to eat
again.
In the afternoon the country they were passing proved so interesting
that Mary Jane and Alice didn’t even try to look at books or magazines.
For the mountains had grown higher and more interesting every mile of
the way. Now they passed great holes in the ground out from which came
little cars full of freshly mined coal, and Mr. Merrill explained to
the girls all about how coal was dug out of the earth, loaded on those
queer little cars and sent up to the sunshine ready to be loaded into
railroad cars to take away for folks to use. And they passed mining
villages tucked down in the valleys. Some had great, rough barracks
where all the miners lived. Some, and those were the most interesting
to the girls, had groups of tiny little shacks where the miners lived
with their families. They saw children playing, women working at their
house work, and here and there a miner, his lamp on his head, going off
to the mine for his work. Mary Jane and Alice had never realized till
they saw those funny little lamps, fastened to the miner’s cap, how
queer it must seem to work hours down, down, down, deep in the darkness
of the earth.
“I do believe,” said Alice thoughtfully, “that I’ll always notice more
about coal now that I can guess better how hard it is to work down in
the ground.”
As long as the daylight lasted, the girls strained their eyes to see
all that might be seen of the coal country. And just after the sun
set behind the iron mountains leaving the darkness of a winter evening
behind, they noticed flashes of light off to the south-east.
“The steel furnaces of Birmingham,” said Mr. Merrill, “and you shall
see them close too, to-morrow. But now it’s time to get our things on
to meet Uncle Will.”
They hustled back to their own car to find that the porter had
carefully picked up their things and that everything was ready for them
to slip into their wraps and get off the train. So there was still time
to watch out into the darkness and see more of those brilliant flashes
of light that made the sky glow so mysteriously.
Mrs. Merrill’s uncle was at the station and hurried them into a big
“boulevard bus” which would quickly take them home where aunt and
cousins and a good dinner were waiting.
“There’s just one thing I don’t like about this city,” said Mary Jane
later in the evening.
“So?” exclaimed Uncle Will, “why we think it’s a pretty nice sort of a
place.”
“I ’spect it is,” agreed Mary Jane politely, “but what I don’t like is
the dark--I can’t see anything!”
“We’ll soon fix that,” said Mrs. Merrill, “I’ll put my little girl to
bed and then the time till daylight will vanish.”
And sure enough it did. It wasn’t any time at all till Mary Jane sat
up in her sleeping porch couch and looked across the hills of the
beautiful city.
“Oh!” she exclaimed delightedly, “I like having houses on hills, ’cause
you can see so many of them!” Then she looked down at the street nearby
and saw a little negro boy, not so very much bigger than herself, who
was carrying on his head a great, big, heavy basket of washing.
“Boy! Boy! I don’t know your name but please wait a minute!” she
called. “My sister wants to take a picture of a boy like you--she said
she did!”
Fortunately Alice, who was in the house making the closer acquaintance
of her cousins, was dressed so it didn’t take but a minute to get her
camera and take the picture Mary Jane so hastily arranged for her. The
poor little boy didn’t quite know what had happened to him, but he
_did_ understand the quarter Mr. Merrill handed him. He went on his way
with such a broad smile on his face that Alice wished she had another
picture just to get that smile in.
While the picture was being taken, Mary Jane washed and dressed. She
came down the front stairs just in time to hear the plans for the day
discussed.
“Yes, I wish we could stay more than one day,” Mr. Merrill was saying,
“but I have to be in Jacksonville to-morrow morning. So I think we’d
better make up our minds to visit all we can to-day and let the girls
see as much as may be of your city. Then perhaps on our next trip we
won’t be so hurried.”
“If that’s the case,” said Uncle Will as they responded to the
breakfast bell, “I believe we’d better plan to get right off. We’ll
go way out to the steel plant first so as to be sure to get in there.
Then if we get back in time, we can take our lunch at the Terrace
Restaurant--I know the girls will like that--then we’ll have the
afternoon for an auto ride.”
Mr. Merrill agreed that was a fine plan.
“Only I hope there isn’t any doubt about that lunch,” said Alice.
“Well-l,” said Uncle Will teasingly, “do you eat three times a day at
your house?”
“My no!” retorted Alice promptly, “not if I can help it! We eat _four_
times!”
“Then you’d better have another helping of this fish,” laughed Aunt
Mabel, “because with all that sight seeing to do, you’re not going to
have time to eat any four meals this day--I know that!”
In a few minutes they were off for the steel mills and Mary Jane and
Alice found it one of the most interesting rides they had ever taken.
Through narrow streets they went and then along boulevards; through
tiny villages and a larger “model village” where industrial workers
by the thousands made their homes. And finally great piles as high as
houses of grayish looking stuff that looked like cinders but which
Uncle Will said was “slag,” told them that they were approaching the
mills.
When they stepped off the car Alice exclaimed, “This looks exactly like
a picture of a mining town that’s in my geography!”
“Of course it is,” laughed Uncle Will, “because this _is_ a mining
town. All the mining isn’t done in the West you know. The iron ore and
the coal for the furnaces are mined right here on the spot--that’s the
reason these mills are just where they are, my dear.”
They walked along the narrow street where men, women and mule carts
mingled together in busy confusion, till they came to the company’s
office. There was some delay there because children were not usually
allowed in the plant but on the firm assurance from Mr. Merrill and
Uncle Will that each would take a girl under his especial care,
permission was granted.
“But be sure you watch ’em, Mr. Cole,” warned the guard as they started
and Uncle Will promised.
Mary Jane wondered at all this fuss because she and Alice had been
through factories at home and didn’t think much of it. But half an hour
later, when they were in the middle of the great plant, she stopped
wondering and clung to her father’s hand without being told. For the
noise and confusion and wonder of it all was beyond anything she had
ever dreamed of. Engines tooting and screeching, whistles blowing
orders, men shouting, great kettles of red hot iron sizzling and
smoking, clanging hammers pounding on metal, the clatter of tumbling
scrap iron and the clang and clank of the finished steel rails as they
were loaded on waiting freight cars made it a wonderland of sights and
sounds.
Mary Jane held tight to her father’s hand and bravely went everywhere
the big folks did. But she wasn’t sorry when, an hour later, she
found herself seated on a quiet terrace on the fifteenth floor of
Birmingham’s biggest office building, ordering her lunch.
After luncheon they walked all around the terrace and looked at the
rows of mountains and the long stretch of valley dotted with huge smoke
stacks of the various steel mills.
“And there,” said Uncle Will, pointing off into the distance, “is the
place you were this morning.”
“Well,” said Mary Jane looking at it gravely, “I think I like it better
over there than when it’s right here--it isn’t so noisy, far away.”
Uncle Will laughed and suggested that if he and Mary Jane went down
stairs ahead of the others, it was just possible, just possible of
course, that they might have time to buy a box of candy before the auto
came around. And that settled sightseeing from the terrace.
All through the long beautiful afternoon they drove, seeing the busy
streets of the city, driving up the winding roadways lined with
beautiful homes and leading toward the mountains, and spinning along
the ridge roads that took them over the mountain crests.
It was almost dark when they stopped at Uncle Will’s for their bags and
they had to drive fast to get to the station in time for their train.
“Well!” sighed Mary Jane, as she dropped down in the broad seat of the
Pullman car a few minutes later, “I think that’s a city where you do a
_lot_!”
“And _I_ think,” replied Mrs. Merrill, reaching down to kiss her little
girl, “that I know somebody not so very far from here, who’s going to
have dinner and go to bed just about as quick as a wink.”
“And _I_ think,” added Mr. Merrill, “that I know somebody who’d better
get to sleep as quick as they can, because to-morrow’s the day we see
flowers and--something else.”
And just then, before Mary Jane had a chance to ask a question the
porter came through the car calling, “Last call for dinner! Dinner in
the dining car! First car in the front of de train!”
AT THE OSTRICH FARM
The very first minute Mary Jane opened her eyes the next morning she
peeked out of the window to see if the Southern flowers she had read
about and seen pictures of, were in sight. She didn’t see flowers but
she did see palm trees--lots of them.
“Mother! Mother!” she called, peeking around into the next berth to
speak to her mother, “you ought to get up quick! They’re here, they
are, those funny trees with the trimming on the top just like the
pictures you showed us. Mother! May I get up and look at them from the
back porch?”
Mrs. Merrill looked at her watch and told Mary Jane it was high time
they were both getting up if they were to have time to dress and eat
breakfast before the train got into Jacksonville.
“Then I’ll beat you dressed, I will,” said Mary Jane gayly and she set
to work at the job of dressing. First she took down her stockings that
had hung all night over the little hammock by the window, and put those
on; then the shoes that had been in the hammock went on next. After
that she rolled up the covers clear to the bottom of the bed to get
them out of the way, took down her clothes that had been hanging all
night on a coat rack by the big curtains and put those on. She stopped
just long enough to call, “Didn’t I beat?” to her mother before she
hurried off to the wash room. She thought it so much fun to brush her
teeth in the funny little bowl made for that purpose that she wanted to
have plenty of time to enjoy the job.
But Alice was there before her, as excited as Mary Jane could possibly
be about the palm trees and the few very fierce looking razor-back
hogs she had seen grunting and snorting at the train, and so it was a
rather sketchy scrubbing they gave themselves. Mrs. Merrill joined them
in a minute to say that the diner was taken off in the night and that
breakfast would be served in the observation car.
“Then I may go back there now, mayn’t I, Mother?” asked Mary Jane, “and
I know the way all by myself. I’ll stay right on the back porch and not
go near the gate till you come.” The train was exactly the same as the
one on which the Merrills had come down to Birmingham two days before
and Mary Jane felt so at home after her whole day and two nights of
travel she almost thought the train was her own.
“Yes, you may if Alice is ready and if you promise to stay right
together,” said Mrs. Merrill; “it will be fine to have some fresh air
before breakfast.”
The girls hurried back through the train so as not to lose a minute.
The country looked entirely different from what they had seen before;
the hills and mountains were all gone; many different sorts of trees
made up the woods and even the grasses looked different from what the
girls were used to seeing. And the roads! Such queer muddy things they
were, with only an occasional brick paved road fit for automobile
travel.
All too soon Mr. Merrill came out and announced, “You can’t have
a regular breakfast this morning, girls, just fruit and a bite of
something the steward says, so you’d better come and get what there is
right away.”
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mary Jane in great distress, “won’t they have
hashed brown potatoes?”
“Haven’t you had enough of those yet?” laughed Mr. Merrill. But
Mary Jane’s fright proved to be a false alarm; there was plenty of
breakfast for folks who were used to simple food--hashed brown potatoes
for Mary Jane, eggs for Alice and her father and toast for Mrs. Merrill.
The train was running about forty minutes late the conductor reported
so there was time to go back onto the back platform a while before
Jacksonville was reached.
When Mary Jane got off the train at Jacksonville she had expected to
step right out to flower beds and summer beauties. Instead of that,
such a sight as met her eyes she never would have dreamed of! Smoke,
and dirt, and dripping water, and slush under foot, and the horrid
smell of burned wood and leather. And such confusion that Mary Jane
felt sure they must have fallen into a cyclone or something.
“What’s the trouble?” called Mr. Merrill to an usher who was trying to
get through the crowd to carry their bags, “what’s happened? Never saw
so much going on in this station before in all _my_ life.”
“Fire, sir!” replied the usher, “pretty bad fire, sir. The station, she
took a-fire last night and dey jes got her out ’bout an hour ago. Got
any luggage here, sir?”
“Not a bit, it’s on this train we came on,” answered Mr. Merrill.
“You’s lucky, sir, you is,” laughed the darky and he piloted them out
into the street.
They walked about a half a block away from the confusion of the station
and then Mrs. Merrill said, “Now look, girls!” And the girls looked
away from the burned roof of the pretty station and out toward the
city. And there they saw the summerland they had hoped for!--palm trees
and flowers growing in the parkways, summer dresses on the passersby
and a warmth and glow in the air.
“Oh, Mother!” exclaimed Alice happily, “it’s true, isn’t it? Summer
_is_ here--and please may we take off our coats?”
“Not so fast,” replied Mrs. Merrill, “you’ll find them none too warm
when you’re riding.” And sure enough, when they got into the taxi Mr.
Merrill signaled and started swiftly up the street, they weren’t a bit
too warm.
All too soon their hotel was reached, the girls would have liked to
ride all day.
“Never you mind,” said Mr. Merrill consolingly, “you shall ride again
in about a half an hour. But come in first and leave your bags, and me.”
“Leave you, Dadah?” asked Mary Jane, “you’re not going away from here,
are you?”
“I’m not, but you will be,” said Mr. Merrill. “I mean that my business
begins here this morning and that you and mother will have to get
around by yourselves while I work. But mother knows the way about just
as well as I do and she’ll see that you poke into every corner you
want to see.”
When the girls went around to the front of the hotel and saw the
beautiful park of palms and flowers that filled a whole block, they
were not anxious to leave it.
“Let’s not ride,” suggested Mary Jane, “let’s stay and play under those
trees.”
“I don’t know about that,” replied Mrs. Merrill, “you see, I know what
there is to see on our ride and _you_ don’t. Better ride while you can
and play in the park this noon.”
So a few minutes later Mr. Merrill put them all three into a big car
and started off toward the business part of the city for his work.
The girls had never ridden in a sight seeing car before and they begged
a place right by the driver so they would be sure to see and hear
everything. Mrs. Merrill sat just behind them where they could speak
to her and also could have the comfortable feeling that she was very
near. First they drove down the river and saw glimpses of the broad St.
Johns River and enjoyed the pretty trees and gardens and homes that
nestled along its low banks. Then they turned back through the city and
out on the other side.
“Where we going now?” asked Mary Jane when she noticed that the houses
were getting smaller and fewer and further apart.
“Out to the Farm,” replied the driver.
“A regular farm where they grow chickens and things like my Grandmother
does?” asked the little girl.
“It’s a regular farm all right, Miss,” said the driver, “but they
don’t grow anything your Grandmother does. They grow alligators and
ostriches.”
“My gracious!” exclaimed Mary Jane, her eyes open wide with amazement,
“do they plant ’em?”
The driver laughed and answered, “You just wait and see--we’re most
there now. See that white fence and those buildings? There we are!”
With a flourish he stopped by the big white gate and Mrs. Merrill and
the girls got out of the car. “You’ll wait for us?” she asked the
driver.
“Long as you like,” he replied, so without a bit of worry about time
they went into the “Farm.”
At first Mary Jane was disappointed for there seemed to be nothing in
the whole place but fences! But when they walked closer they easily
found the Alligator Farm and there the girls were so interested that
they forgot all about such creatures as ostriches. They saw big
alligators and little alligators and tiny, tiny little alligators that
would have easily been hidden in Mary Jane’s small hand. They saw the
great big fellow, more than a hundred years old, get his food and
such gleaming teeth as he had made Mary Jane glad he was inside an
iron fence--_there_ she liked to watch him, but she didn’t think he
was _quite_ the creature one would like to meet walking along a road.
They saw alligators flop their tails to music--or at least the keepers
_said_ they flopped to music so it must be so!--and most wonderful of
all, they saw alligators “shoot the shoots” into a small lake. There
was no pretend about that; the ’gators climbed slowly and careful up
the steps of the shoot, crawled over the top and then with a loud
“thud” dropped their clumsy bodies onto the shoot and slid down into
the water.
Mary Jane and Alice would have been glad to stay there all morning
watching these strange creatures and Mrs. Merrill had to remind them
twice about the ostriches and about lunch and more riding before they
could tear themselves away.
They wandered over to the ostrich section of the “Farm” and found the
queer looking birds poking their noses outside the wire fence begging
as plain as could be for food.
“You and Mary Jane feed them, Mother,” suggested Alice, “and I’ll take
your picture.”
Mrs. Merrill bought some food and she and Mary Jane stood close to the
fence and handed it in. The birds reached their long necks out and
_nearly_ helped themselves out of the bags, so tame were they. One
big bird seemed to take a fancy to Mary Jane and he was determined to
get his food from her. Just as Alice was ready to take the picture he
reached out and made a grab.
“Owh!” screamed the little girl, “he got it! Make him give it back
quick, Mother!”
“What did he get?” said Mrs. Merrill coming close.
“My pocket book!” screamed Mary Jane who was fairly dancing she was
so excited, “he just reached his bill out and grabbed it out of my
hand, he did.” And sure enough, the great bird was making off to his
nest just as fast as he could go (which was pretty fast) and from his
bill hung Mary Jane’s pretty new pocket book in which she had two best
kerchiefs and twenty-five cents of spending money.
The keeper heard Mary Jane’s screams (and so did lots of other folks by
the way) and he came running to see what had happened.
“Is that all!” he exclaimed, when Mrs. Merrill pointed out what the
ostrich had done, “we’ll have that bag in no time--I was afraid he’d
hurt the little girl though I did think he was too tame for doing harm.”
He unlocked the gate and hurried over to where the big bird stood. As
soon as the ostrich saw his keeper coming he dropped the bag and raced
off with his long funny stride just as though he knew he had done wrong
and wanted to get away. Mary Jane couldn’t help but laugh at him he
looked so afraid and so very comical. She got her pocket book back
undamaged and as the man handed it to her he said, “Too bad, Missy, too
bad. But you come again and I’ll make him behave. Wouldn’t you like a
little ’gator for a present, ’count of your scare?”
“Oh,” replied Mary Jane, her eyes shining with delight, “I don’t need
one myself ’cause I’m here to see ’em. But I want one for my little
chum--she’s home.”
“All right, Missy,” said the man, “I’d like to send her one if your
mother will allow me to.” And he pulled out his book and took down the
address.
So that’s how it happened that a week later the expressman delivered a
box containing two live alligators to the amazed Dana family.
“THE BOAT’S A-FIRE!”
Fortunately they got back to the hotel a while before lunch time
and could take a walk through the beautiful little park. Alice in
particular was anxious to see every sort of flower and plant and to
learn its name. But dear me! with all the lovely flowers there it would
have taken a day to study them every one and she had to be content with
seeing only a small part of the grounds.
“Never mind,” said Mrs. Merrill, as they sat down to lunch, “the same
flowers will be all through Florida and you’ll have plenty of time to
see them all you wish.”
“Oh!” exclaimed a lady who sat at the same table with them, “your
little daughter doesn’t think _these_ flowers are the sights she is
to see, does she? Just wait till you get further south, this early in
the season every ten miles makes a difference and you’ll find lovelier
gardens the further you go.”
Alice and Mary Jane opened their eyes in amazement; lovelier flowers
than these! Weren’t they lucky to be seeing so much? Mrs. Merrill
continued the conversation with the table mates and asked where she
could find about trains going to the beach.
“I really don’t know,” replied the lady, who proved to be Mrs. Wilkins
of New York State, a friend of Mrs. Merrill’s cousin, “because we
hadn’t thought of going there. We can see the beach when we are further
south so we’re going to take a boat ride on the St. Johns River. That’s
something you can’t do at the beach resorts.”
“That sounds good,” agreed Mrs. Merrill, “what do you girls think?”
Alice and Mary Jane were delighted with the idea of a boat ride and
Mrs. Wilkins urged them to decide to go on “their” boat. They had
decided to go on a comfortable, safe looking steamer of fair size that
went up the river to Mandarin, the home of Harriet Beecher Stowe.
There, so they had been promised, they might see the very nook in the
trees where she did so much of the writing that made her famous.
So the lunch visit was cut short and the little party drove at once to
the dock and settled themselves on the upper, front deck of the river
boat. Mary Jane wasn’t in any particular hurry for the boat to start
because from her safe deck she could look down on the wharves and see
the bustle and hurry of shipping fruit and enjoy the fun of watching
the dozens of gay, lazy, little negro boys who were supposed to be
helping the work. They sang so well and helped themselves to fruit so
generously and teased each other so comically that Mary Jane thought it
was as good as watching a play to see them.
When the boat finally started away from the dock, Mr. Wilkins took
the two girls down to the engine room and explained the workings of
the boat to them. Mary Jane thought it very wonderful that the queer
looking engine that went “Phis-s-s-sh, _ping_; Phis-s-s-sh, _ping_!”
was the thing that sent so big a boat a-going through the water.
They must have stayed down stairs longer than they realized for when
they came on deck again, the city of Jacksonville was way, way off
and the boat was beginning to sidle up to the left bank of the river.
Before long they were landed at a ricketty old dock that stuck its nose
out into the river to greet them.
“Back in an hour!” the Captain called as the boat backed away, “plenty
of time to see the homestead. It’s only five minutes walk down the
river bank.”
The little party of tourists were quickly surrounded by a crowd of
children who ran out onto the dock to greet them and beg them to buy
bananas, grapefruit, oranges and flowers.
“Not till we come back,” said Mrs. Merrill firmly, “but if any of you
can show us Mrs. Stowe’s home we may buy something before we leave.”
Fortunately it wasn’t far to go. The beautiful trees along the river
bank, dripping with streamers of Spanish moss, made such nice play
corners that Mary Jane was much more interested in playing house than
in seeing famous sights!
“Please let me stay here and play while you look at houses, Mother,”
said the little girl. “I’ll stay right here, ’deed I will, and I can’t
get lost because in front there’s only the river and in back there’s
only the road and the house and you.”
“And let me stay too,” said Alice; “I could make the nicest play house
here--see, Mother, those twisted branches and the view across the
river?”
So the grown folks went on with the sightseeing and the two girls and
about eight of the neighbor children stayed by the river bank.
“Now,” said Alice, who was quite at home making playhouses even though
they were located in Florida, “this is the living room and here’s the
dining room and here, where you can see the river best, is the porch.”
“Where’s your walls?” asked one of the neighbor children who evidently
wasn’t used to making up houses as the Merrill girls were, “looks like
all one room to me!”
“But it isn’t,” explained Alice, “you have to pretend the walls.”
“You can’t pretend walls,” laughed the boy, “walls is real! Can’t you
make ’em?”
“Yes, we could if we had burrs,” said Alice thoughtfully looking
around. “Have you got anything here that will stick together easily?”
[Illustration: “This is the living room and here’s the dining room
and here, where you can see the river bed, is the porch” _Page 58_]
Three children darted off shouting “Yes! We’ll get it!” all in one
breath and in a few minutes they were back with great prickly branches.
“Goody! Goody! Goody!” shouted Mary Jane happily, “now we’ll have time
to make the whole house before mother gets back, ’cause those are so
nice and big.” She reached out for a branch so as to begin building her
share.
But dear me, she didn’t know much about Florida “prickers” or she
wouldn’t have been in such a hurry! The branches had tiny, queer little
prickers far different from any she had ever touched or seen and in a
second her fingers were full of itching barbs.
“Wait, wait, _wait_!” called one of the bigger girls, “don’t rub it!
Don’t touch it! I’ll get them out for you.” She must have had them in
her own fingers before, because she seemed to know exactly how to get
the troublesome things out. And then, when Mary Jane’s hand felt all
right again, the big girl, who said her name was Maggie, showed them
just how to handle the pricky cactus branches without getting the sharp
spines into fingers.
Then Alice showed them a plan of making the walls and the children
set to work. It was fun making a tree house in the crooked, gnarled,
moss-covered old tree and it was fun playing with new children who so
quickly learned to play just as the Merrill children did.
“What’s yer doing?” asked one girl as she saw Mary Jane apparently
pinch herself.
“I’m just a-pinching myself,” laughed Mary Jane; “couldn’t you see? I’m
a-pinching myself to see if I’m me! I feel like I was somebody else I’m
dreaming about ’way down here playing.”
“Well, you’re you, don’t you worry,” said Alice gayly, “and you better
hurry if you want to finish sticking flowers in this wall because I can
hear the folks coming back as sure as can be.”
“How pretty!” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill, as she came close enough to see
the playhouse the children had made.
“And this is the very tree I was telling you about,” said the guide who
came with them; “this very branched tree is where Mrs. Stowe sat when
doing much of her writing.”
“Isn’t it interesting,” said Mrs. Merrill to the girls, “to think you
have made a playhouse in the very tree where Mrs. Stowe wrote parts of
‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’?”
“Yes, I _’spect_ it’s interesting,” said Mary Jane, “but I _know_ it’s
fun. And please, Mother, do we have to go yet? Can’t we build some
more?”
“I’m afraid not, girlies,” said Mrs. Merrill regretfully, “because our
hour is up and our boat should be coming around the bend of the river
this very minute.”
But though they all went back at once to the dock, they had a long,
long wait till the boat came. The sun began going down in the west and
the girls got so very hungry they were only too glad to buy generous
helpings of fruit from their new playmates. And finally when a boat
did come to the dock it wasn’t the nice boat they had come down on at
all! It was a small boat, oh, a very small boat, already so full of
passengers that when the new folks got on at the Mandarin dock it was
loaded almost to the water line.
“Never mind,” said Mr. Wilkins comfortingly; “it surely must be safe
and anyway it’s only a short trip. Perhaps we can get seats at the
back.” And there they settled themselves and waved good-by to their new
friends as the boat steamed down stream toward the distant city.
For a while the girls were content to sit and eat their oranges and
chat of the fun they had just had. But in the course of an hour, Mary
Jane began to fidget and to ask for something to do.
“Nothing much to do on this boat but to sit still, Mary Jane,” said
Mrs. Merrill. “It isn’t big enough for a little girl to walk around and
see things--you’d be in folks’ way. Suppose you just sit still and look
all around and see how much you can see. Maybe you’ll find something
interesting to talk about that way.”
So Mary Jane sat still (all but wiggling her feet and she thought that
didn’t count), and looked around the boat. She saw folks all around
her who had been sight-seeing and who had armfuls of flowers and fruit
they had brought from up the river. But in the front of the boat she
saw six or eight men in earnest talk at the prow--something seemed
to be exciting them very much. And then, queerest of all, up on the
tiny half deck of the boat she saw a man and a woman taking turns at
a strange looking pump sort of a thing that seemed not to work very
smoothly as they tried to make it go back and forth. For a minute she
watched them; then she turned to her mother and asked, “What is that
thing, Mother? And what are they doing with it? What’s the matter?”
Mrs. Merrill and Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins looked to where Mary Jane pointed
and Mr. Wilkins got up quickly and stepped up onto the little half deck.
But before he had had time to ask a question, the woman who was trying
to work the pump, turned and replied to Mary Jane’s questions.
“The boat’s a-fire!” she called, “that’s the matter! The boat’s a-fire
and the pump’s broke!”
Mr. Wilkins spoke up in a loud, firm voice, “But I think we can fix it
at once if every one will sit still. Will the Captain please put to
shore at once?”
But that was just what the Captain would not do. His crew had been
trying for some minutes to get him to turn in toward the nearest shore,
but he obstinately refused to do so.
“The pump’s broke,” he admitted, “but the fire ain’t much and we’ll get
to dock all right--now jes’ don’t get excited, folks!”
As he spoke, little puffs of smoke rose from the engine room and the
big pile of dry wood which had carelessly been piled too close to the
firebox showed signs of bursting out into great flames.
The passengers, remembering the crowded boat, tried to sit still and
be quiet and calm. But when they saw the twinkling lights of the city,
still so very far away; felt the fading light and the dampness of the
evening chill, and saw how far even the nearest shore of the wide river
seemed to be, they couldn’t help noticing that there wasn’t a life
belt or boat to be had. Almost everybody began to feel panicky.
And at that very minute Mary Jane began to cry. Not a loud panicky cry,
but a low, sobbing cry that sounded very heartbroken.
“Don’t be afraid, little girl,” said the man next to her; “we’ll get
you home safe some way!”
“I’m not afraid,” Mary Jane managed to say between sobs, “’cause I can
float. But if I have to get into the river and float, who’s going to
take care of this big banana I’m taking to my Dadah? He likes bananas!”
For a second every one on the boat stared. And then a general laugh
relieved the tension, and folks were willing to sit down and trust
to getting a-shore. The pump was kept working as hard as its broken
condition would let it; men dipped into the river with the only two
buckets aboard and tossed water onto the fire and slowly the lights of
the city twinkled nearer--and nearer--and nearer.
Other boats came comfortingly near and were passed; docks loomed out
of the twilight, and finally with a bump the little, overcrowded boat
slipped into its place by the shore.
There wasn’t a panic even then, but folks, some way, got off that boat
in a hurry. The firm land never had felt so good!
“Where’s the little girl who wanted to save her banana?” called the
Captain as he turned his boat over to the dock firemen. “I want to
thank her.”
But the Merrills were already out of hearing hurrying to their belated
dinner, their Dadah and jolly plan-making for the morrow.
A BIT OF SUNNY SPAIN
“Early to bed, early to rise, and you can catch the first train in the
morning,” said Mr. Merrill as they came in from a little stroll through
the gayly lighted park that same evening. “And I really think that
you folks better forget about me for a few days and go on with your
sightseeing by yourselves. The first train for St. Augustine leaves
at nine in the morning and you can have lots more fun there than here
where everything is more citified.”
“But, Dadah,” said Mary Jane, “will there be flowers there and warm
weather and everything just the same?”
“Not a thing the same,” replied Mr. Merrill teasingly; “there’ll be
more flowers and more warm weather and more palm trees and more fun
for girls and lots more chance to play.”
“Then let’s go and you come as soon as you get through your business,
Dadah,” said Mary Jane.