way," she said. "Don't little girls like cones and crackerjack?"
"They certainly do," laughed Alice, "at least these little girls do."
"Then take this," said Mrs. Humphrey, handing her a five-dollar bill,
"and get all you want, dear. This looks like a good place." They were
back in the car of course, and Higgins had driven along the thoroughfare
by the ocean--a street lined with shops.
Alice looked at the money with a feeling of dismay. How many should she
get? One cone apiece and one box of crackerjack or maybe two? And how
about the change? Five dollars seemed like a lot of money to carry into
a crowd such as thronged the boardwalk by which the car had stopped.
Seeing her hesitation, Mrs. Humphrey said, "Would you rather I got it,
dear?" and Alice replied so promptly, "oh, _will_ you, Mrs. Humphrey?"
that the lady had no doubt, but Alice would enjoy herself more if she
didn't have to make the purchase.
So Mrs. Humphrey got out of the car and hurried to the shop. It is
hardly likely that she had made such a purchase before--certainly not
often, for when she got into the shop she scarcely knew what to buy, or
how much the girls could eat. Of course they would be hungry--she
bought four boxes of crackerjack and five cones; that amount simply
because that seemed to be all she could carry, and went back to the car.
"Can you help me?" she asked as she found herself too loaded down to
step comfortably into her car. Mary Jane was on that side and she
reached out and took the boxes of crackerjack while Mrs. Merrill took
the cones.
"Where's Higgins's crackerjack?" asked Mary Jane making a hasty count.
"What did you say, dear?" asked Mrs. Humphrey who thought her ears must
have deceived her, "Higgins' what?"
"Higgins's crackerjack," repeated Mary Jane, "you've got a cone for
everybody and only four boxes of crackerjack. Doesn't Higgins like
crackerjack?"
"I really--why--" Mrs. Humphrey was so amazed that for the minute she
couldn't think of anything to say. _Higgins_ and crackerjack!
"Never mind," said Mary Jane, thinking to comfort her hostess, "there's
plenty of ice cream and he can have half of my crackerjack--I'd be glad
to divide it."
Before either Mrs. Merrill or Mrs. Humphrey could interfere, Mary Jane
had slipped from her chair and was hospitably passing the cones to the
dignified chauffeur. Never did a man look more insulted! He, Higgins,
to eat an ice cream cone while on duty and in his best uniform! Perish
the thought! But a glance at Mary Jane's kindly smile changed his
answer and instead of frowning no without a word as he meant to, he
smiled and said, "Thank you kindly, miss, but I must give all my
attention to the wheel."
"Well, don't worry," said Mary Jane, "I'll eat it then." And she did.
*A DAY IN PLYMOUTH*
When Mary Jane stepped off the train in the little town of Plymouth the
next morning, she expected to see the famous Plymouth Rock the very
first thing. Instead, she saw a modern station with its line of autos,
surreys and wagons drawn up along the side and a parkway stretching away
toward the hill.
"Where do they keep the rock?" she asked her mother.
"Goodness only knows!" laughed Mrs. Merrill. "Don't expect me to know
_everything_, honey. But I do know they have it around here somewhere."
"Oh, Mother," cried Alice, "look at that darling pony! Couldn't we get
that man to drive us around some place? I'd adore to have that pony
pull me!"
Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane liked the idea too, so they engaged the
driver of a quaint little pony cart to take them around the village.
But before five minutes had passed, they almost repented of their
bargain. For, turning away from the station to the right, they began
ascending a hill that taxed the strength of the pony to the utmost. Up
they went and up and up, and the little pony pulled and pulled and
pulled his best, but with such a load he couldn't go faster than a very,
very slow walk.
At last they reached the top of the hill and there on an open plain they
saw a handsome monument--the driver told them it was Forefathers'
Monument.
"Whatever did they put it here for?" asked Mary Jane. "There's nothing
here but a field."
"You should get out and look," said the driver proudly. "Just look--and
you'll see."
They left the pony cart (they were glad to give the little fellow a
chance to rest you may be sure) and walked close up to the monument
before they turned around to look; and then they saw why the monument
was set just there. Before them lay the bay, the blue waters sparkling
in the bright sunshine; and to the left and to the right for miles and
miles they could see the coast line gleaming gold with the shining sand,
and back from the ocean to the north were the green marshes and fertile
fields. It was a view long to be remembered.
"I expect the Pilgrims stood right here--didn't they, Mother?" asked
Alice.
"Without a doubt they did," replied Mrs. Merrill, "and think how it must
have looked to them! There were no fields then; only marshes and woods;
no friendly city off in the distance; only strange Indians. I can
imagine that many a time a lonely Pilgrim must have sat in this very
spot and looked longingly out over the ocean toward the home they had
left."
"They _were_ brave folks, weren't they, Mother?" said Mary Jane, much
impressed with the beautiful view and the thought of the long-ago
Pilgrims. "But where's Plymouth Rock?"
"We'll have to find that rock for you in a hurry," laughed Mrs. Merrill.
"Well, at least we know it isn't on a hill, so we can go on from here if
you are ready."
The pony cart next pulled them down the hill and that was nearly as
exciting as going up, for it surely seemed as though the cart with its
four folks would fall over on top of the little pony.
"I really believe," suggested Mrs. Merrill, "that we could get around
faster if we'd walk, girlies," as they turned back into the station
parkway. "Suppose we walk for a way and explore as we go?" The girls
were willing, so the pony cart was dismissed, and the Merrills set out
to explore.
They went south along the main street of the village, passed the museum
where relics of the Pilgrims were kept and which they meant to visit
later in the day; passed several big hotels and many stores till they
came to the end of the village where the fishermen had headquarters. And
there, at the shore end of a small wharf, they saw a stone monument.
Not a big handsome one such as they had seen on the hill a few minutes
before; a small stone monument with an open space in the center and an
iron grating sort of a door shutting up the open space.
Alice and Mary Jane ran ahead to see what it was, and there Alice read
the words, "Plymouth Rock." There under the monument, set in the arch
made by the stone corners and protected from injury by the heavy iron
grating, was the famous stone. It wasn't big as Mary Jane had expected
it to be--it was just a common-looking boulder, and nobody would have
thought of it twice if it hadn't been in a monument so folks would know
it was something to look at.
"Well," said Mary Jane practically, after she had looked at it carefully
for a minute or two, "I don't see how in the world they stepped clear
from the ocean there at the end of the pier to here--I don't see!"
"But you must remember, dear," replied Mrs. Merrill, "there wasn't any
pier then--just the ocean and the shore. No doubt the ocean was close
to the rock then, for sometimes sand and rocks are washed around and the
shore line changed in so many years as have passed since that day. Or,
possibly, folks have moved the rock up here so it wouldn't get
weatherbeaten by the winter's storms. I think that is most likely the
reason why it is here."
As she was speaking, two men came up to the monument to make some
repairs on the lock of one of the iron gates. As the gate swung open
after they unlocked it, Mary Jane looked longingly in at the rock--if
she could only touch it! What fun it would be to tell Betty and Frances
that she, Mary Jane Merrill, had really touched Plymouth Rock!
One of the workmen seemed to guess what she wanted for he said to her,
"Hello there, little girl! Did you come a long way to look at that
rock?"
"All the way from Chicago," answered Mary Jane.
"Then I think you'd like to touch it, wouldn't you?" he said. Mary Jane
nodded happily.
"Here goes then," he replied, and he stepped aside so she and Alice
could stand inside the gate and actually lay their hands on the rock.
"I know something better than that," said the other workmen, much
pleased with the girls' interest and joy. "We'll open the gate on the
other side where the sun is shining and your mother can take your
picture standing on the rock, just as the Pilgrims did."
Mary Jane was so excited by that fine idea that she could hardly stand
still, but with the help of mother and the men the gates were at last
open, and she and Alice took their places on the rock--and the picture
was taken.
"Thank you so _very_ much," said Alice gratefully as the gates were
again locked up, "that picture will be fine to take to school 'cause I'm
studying American history."
"Then you want to notice that hill," said one workman, pointing to a
hill close by. It wasn't such a very high hill but the sides were steep
and grass covered and it was close to the shore. "That is the hill you
will read about," continued the man. "After that hard winter when so
many of the Pilgrims died, the bodies of the dead were buried there and
the Pilgrims planted corn over the top, so the Indians would not guess
it was a cemetery and find out how very many had died. You must walk up
that hill," he advised Alice, "so you can tell your class about it when
you get back."
"We certainly will," replied Alice gratefully, "and thank you for
telling us about it."
They crossed the street and climbed the wooden stairway up the hill. On
the top was an inn where a sign announced that luncheon was served, but
the girls didn't care for anything so modern. Fortunately Mrs. Merrill
had had the hotel put up a fine luncheon for them, so they wouldn't have
to waste time eating indoors. As it was now nearly noon and the girls
were very hungry, she suggested that they sit on some benches halfway up
the hill and eat now, where they could enjoy seeing Plymouth, the ocean
and the historic hill.
That seemed a splendid idea, and the girls agreed that never had fried
chicken and sandwiches tasted as good as on Plymouth Hill.
"I do feel awfully selfish though," Mary Jane said as she polished off a
drumstick, "to have such a good lunch at the very same place where folks
died 'cause they didn't have enough to eat."
"I don't feel so selfish as I do thirsty," said Alice. "Now if I only
had a drink--"
"No doubt we can find one," replied Mrs. Merrill. "If you've eaten all
you wish, we can put the papers and scraps in that trash basket over
there and walk on. Surely we'll find a drink soon."
They walked along the street, passing many an old curiosity shop where
Alice would have loved to linger and price old candlesticks and bellows
and chairs and all the curious wares she could see through the window;
only she was so thirsty that a drink seemed more interesting than
curiosities just then.
Turning to the left they went up a steep grade to another street and
there, right in plain sight, was a beautiful drinking fountain. Without
stopping to read the inscription she and Mary Jane had a good drink.
Then Alice read aloud the tablet that said this water was piped up the
hill from the very spring where the Pilgrim fathers first got their
water.
"I think we're doing a lot of interesting things to-day," said Mary Jane
happily. "We stood on Plymouth Rock and we ate lunch where the Pilgrims
didn't have anything to eat, and now we're drinking out of their own
spring! Now what do we do next?"
"I think we'd better walk up these steps to the old cemetery," said Mrs.
Merrill.
Mary Jane thought it was awfully funny to walk up stairs on a street,
but it was the only way to get up so steep a hill. Mrs. Merrill and
Alice were much interested in the quaint, old inscriptions on the queer,
flat tombstones, but Mary Jane was much more thrilled by the sight of
the old funeral carriage which she saw in an old barn as they came down
from the other entrance. It didn't seem possible that real folks had
ever made such a funny, fancy carriage--it seemed more as though it was
"made up" for a show!
The afternoon was flying along and they had to hurry if there was to be
time to stop and see the wonders of the historic museum they had passed
before. And, indeed, that was the hardest place of all to leave, for
there the girls saw old spinning-wheels and looms, old-fashioned chairs,
dishes and toys such as little folks used to play with--though goodness
knows, children in those old days had very few toys of even home-made
sorts!--and boats, models of real boats of those early days and oh, so
many things, Mary Jane thought they would have to stay there a week to
see all she wanted to see.
But they wouldn't stay a week, nor even an hour more, for at four they
must take a train to Marshfield Hills where they were to visit Cousin
Louise. If Mary Jane hadn't wanted to visit there very much she might
have suggested to wait till another train; but she had so often heard
her mother tell about this dear cousin and her little boy, that not even
the curious boats and wonders of the museum could make her want to miss
that train.
"Now you tell us all about 'em," she said to her mother, when, a little
after four, they were seated in the train and speeding toward Marshfield
Hills. "Is he big as me or is he a baby? And how do I talk to him?"
"Oh, you must play with him very nicely," said Mrs. Merrill, "for he's
only a little bit of a boy--oh, lots younger than you are."
But when Mary Jane stepped off the train at Marshfield Hills she
certainly was surprised, for the little fellow who sat in the front seat
of the waiting auto didn't look as though he needed taking care of a
bit!
*VISITING COUSIN LOUISE*
Cousin Louise was close to the train as it stopped, and she helped Mary
Jane off and gave her a good welcoming hug as they hurried over to the
auto.
"And this is John, my boy," she said proudly. "John, this is your cousin
Mary Jane and this is Alice."
"You may sit up here with Dad and me," he said to Mary Jane, "and the
others can sit in the back." Mary Jane saw in a minute that she was
going to like John. He might be young but he wasn't a baby; it was
plain that he expected to look after all the lady folks of the party
just as he plainly was used to looking after his dainty little mother.
Mary Jane dutifully climbed into the front seat, with a little help from
Cousin Louise, and then John played host by explaining to her all about
their automobile. Mary Jane didn't know one thing about an automobile
and she was much impressed by the fact that this little cousin whom she
had expected to take care of and mother around, knew so very much more
than she did. Bui she liked it; she liked his sturdy, frank way and she
wished that they could stay longer and get acquainted, really
acquainted, with so desirable a cousin.
Shortly, John's father who had been doing an errand, came back, and
after greeting the travelers, started up the car and away they dashed,
over the hills and bridges to the little white farmhouse by the mill
where John lived.
Mary Jane loved the house from the minute she saw it. It had green
blinds and a long front porch; a flower-covered front yard, an
interesting looking barn at the side and a rambling kitchen at the back.
"Oh, Mother," she cried as the car turned in, "do let's stay a long
time! Let's not go to-night."
"To-night!" exclaimed Cousin Louise, "surely you didn't think of going
to-night?"
"That's what I had planned," said Mrs. Merrill. "You know there is a
nine o'clock train to Boston, and I thought that would give us time for
a nice visit-y dinner and we have so many plans for to-morrow."
"Then you'll just have to change your plans," said Cousin Louise briskly
as she welcomed them into the comfortable old house. "We've lots of
room and we'll loan you night things, and you can see what good times my
sonny and your girls are going to have."
"Well, then--" said Mrs. Merrill.
"She's going to let you stay," said John. "Come on, let's go see my
lamb."
He was a bit shy with his new grown-up cousin, Mrs. Merrill, but very
comfortable and easy with the two girls.
"Coming along, Dad?" he called to his father as the three children
slammed out of the kitchen door.
"Not for a while--got to see what's the matter with this," answered his
father, who was tinkering with the automobile. "You take the girls
through the barn and show them your pets. I'll join you in the pasture
lot after a bit."
John needed no urging. He ran ahead to open the barn door and let his
cousins in on the lower floor where his pet calf--a tiny little brown
creature who looked wonderingly at her visitors--stood by her mother in
a large roomy stall.
"This barn's most like grandpa's," exclaimed Mary Jane, as the sight and
smell of barn things brought back to her mind the joys of the summer she
spent visiting her grandparents in the country. "He had an underpart,
too, where cows lived sometimes. And a stairs--have you a stairs that's
most like a ladder?"
John had stairs just such as Mary Jane expected and, to tell the truth,
he was a bit surprised to find that Mary Jane could run up the steep
stairs as fast and as fearlessly as he could. He couldn't see how a girl
who knew nothing about automobiles (when he was so used to them!) could
know about anything at all.
On the main floor of the barn the children inspected all the nooks and
corners, John explaining and playing host manfully.
"Now let's go to the pasture lot," he suggested. "I want to show you
sumping there."
So out to the pasture lot they went, running gayly along the narrow
roadway past the garden.
John led them up the hill, over stones and through briars and he
wouldn't stop for anything till the very top by the fence was reached.
Once there he looked around as though hunting for something.
"Why--where--?" he said in a puzzled way.
In the meantime Mary Jane stepped up close to the rocky wall bordering
the pasture to pick some wild flowers she saw in bloom there. And as
she reached into the bushes to pick the flowers, her hand brushed
against something furred--and soft--and warm.
"Oh!" she cried drawing her hand back in a jiffy, "it's alive!"
John pushed into the bushes and there discovered what he was looking
for--his best pet of all, his wee lamb. He caught firm hold of the soft
wool at the back of the lamb's neck and pulling hard dragged the shy
little creature out for inspection.
"Oh, I didn't know it was a lamb!" exclaimed Mary Jane happily. "I'm
not afraid of a lamb, I'm not. I had a pet lamb too at grandpa's farm."
John and Mary Jane sat down on the nearest rock and fell to comparing
notes about the lamb she had had and the lamb before them, and so busy
were they that they failed to notice the approach of John's father with
a wheelbarrow.
"Anybody want a ride?" he asked. "And Alice, if any big girl like you
says she wants one, she's going to be fooled. But if any people the
size of John and Mary Jane want one they'd better get in quick, because
mother has just given the signal for dinner and that means come and wash
your hands this minute."
John settled himself in the front of the barrow with his toes hanging
over the wheel while his father lifted Mary Jane on just behind. And
with Alice for an escort the party went back to the house.
"I love to wash hands at a back door," said Mary Jane enviously as she
saw John's father splashing at a pan near the door. "It's so common to
wash in a bathroom!"
"Well," laughed Cousin Louise, "I can't say that everybody agrees with
you! I know I felt very grand when we had our nice bathroom installed
upstairs. But if you'd really _rather_ wash down here, I think John can
find you a pan and a towel." Alice went upstairs with her mother and
washed in a nice, lady-like fashion, but John and Mary Jane had a
beautiful splash-y time at the back doorstep and to judge from their red
noses--and the towel--they must have come to the table every bit as
clean.
"I could eat just everything," said Mary Jane ravenously, as they sat
down to an appetizing-looking dinner.
"Well, you won't get everythin'," giggled John, "but Mother won't let
you be hungry, will you, Mother?" he added hospitably.
And with all the good things before her, Mary Jane was sure she
_wouldn't_ be hungry--lovely fresh peas, browned potatoes, salad in such
a pretty bowl. For the next few minutes the children were too busy to
talk, but by dessert time, John was again telling the girls some of the
funny things his chickens and lamb could do.
"There now, John," said his mother interrupting, "I forgot the cream for
the berries. Can you get it for me from the kitchen table? It's in the
blue bowl."
John thought he could and he slipped down from his chair and hurried out
to the kitchen. Coming back he didn't hurry for in his hands, held
tightly, he carried a large blue bowl filled nearly full with rich
looking cream.
"We always have our cream in a pitcher," remarked Mary Jane.
"You couldn't pour this cream out of a pitcher," explained Cousin
Louise. "See?" She lifted a spoonful of the cream with a silver ladle
and Mary Jane thought she had never seen anything so good looking. It
was rich and creamy colored and almost as thick as soft gelatine. Alice
was a bit worried lest it be sour, and she hated milk or cream that
wasn't every bit sweet. But when the girls tasted it they found it
sweet as could be and oh, so good.
"There are the queerest things around Boston," exclaimed Mary Jane as
she smeared the thick cream over her berries ready to eat, "there are
boats made like swans, and tides like in Florida, and a spring coming
out of a pipe--that was in Plymouth--and cream that looks like pudding.
Have you got plenty of it, Cousin Louise?" she added as she eyed the
blue bowl.
Cousin Louise assured her that there was still plenty in the bowl and a
great plenty more in the milk cellar outside so she could eat all she
wanted. But to tell the truth, Mary Jane found that one big bowlful of
strawberries and such cream was all she could eat, and she was soon
ready for the drive that Cousin Louise proposed.
They drove through the marshes that much to the girls' interest proved
to be the place where cranberries are grown.
"See?" said John's father as he slowed up the car so they could see the
bushes and could, perhaps, imagine the red cranberries with which the
low bushes would be loaded after frost. "Next time you eat your
Thanksgiving dinner, you just look hard at the cranberry sauce and see
if it didn't come from Marshfield."
Mary Jane giggled at his funmaking and promised to ask each cranberry
she met during the coming fall.
Turning from the main road, they drove into the heart of a charming wood
where Cousin Louise had them get out to see the wild flowers. There the
girls saw, for the first time, the beautiful and very rare wild lady
slipper which Alice thought was the loveliest wild flower she had ever
seen. They didn't pick a single blossom as the flower is so rare that
flower lovers will not take a single bloom from its home in the woods;
but they looked at it so admiringly and so carefully that the girls were
sure they never, never would forget its beauty.
Back into the car and around a couple of low hills they saw before
them--the ocean--golden and blue and rosy as the varying lights of
sunset were reflected in it.
"Oh," cried Mary Jane, "are we going swimming?"
"Not this late in the evening, I'm afraid, my dear," said Cousin Louise.
"But perhaps mother will let you go in wading. We always carry towels
in the back of the car for a good foot rub afterward." Mrs. Merrill
approved, so the three children pulled off shoes and stockings and a
minute later were dashing down toward the water leaving the grown-ups
for a quiet visit near the car.
"Oh, look at the white stones!" exclaimed Mary Jane, as they wandered
around on the beach after the first hilarious fun of wading. "I'm going
to put some in my pocket. There's one. There's another. See, John,
aren't they pretty?"
John agreed and was so diligent in helping to pick them up and so
generous in handing over all he could find to Mary Jane, that by the
time the children were called to come and dry their feet, Mary Jane's
pockets were loaded down and Alice's were full of the overflow.