A TRIAL TRIP
Owing to some unexpected delay, the automobile didn't arrive until
Wednesday. But when at last it came whirring up the drive, the assembled
Maynards on the veranda greeted it with shouts of approval.
"Did you ever see such a beauty!" cried Marjorie, as she danced around
the new car, and clambering up on the farther side, jumped over the
closed door, and fell plump into one of the cushioned seats.
"Oh, Mopsy!" cried her father, "that isn't the way to get in."
"I don't care,--I am in! And it's just great in here! Why, there's room
enough for a whole party."
The chauffeur who brought the car seemed a little surprised at the antics
of the children, for he was a stolid Englishman, and not much accustomed
to American exuberance.
Mr. Maynard had engaged him on the best recommendations, and felt sure
that he was a trust-worthy and capable man. His name was Pompton, and he
was large and muscular, with a face that was grave but not ill-natured.
Kingdon made friends with him at once, and climbing up into the seat
beside him, asked innumerable questions about the various parts of the
machine.
"Suppose we go at once for a trial spin," proposed Mr. Maynard, and
almost before he had completed his sentence, a chorus of assent rose in
response.
"Oh, do, Father," cried King; "and let me stay here in front, so I can
see how it works."
"Some other time you may do that, King, but this time I want to sit in
front myself, so hop out, and take one of the orchestra chairs."
"All right, sir," and King tumbled out, and flew around to the other side
of the car. Mrs. Maynard, Kitty, and Rosamond were already seated in the
wide, comfortable back seat. This left two seats in the tonneau for King
and Marjorie, and with Mr. Maynard in front, by the side of Pompton, the
car offered perfect accommodations for the Maynard family. It was a big
touring car of a most approved make, and up-to-date finish. The top could
be opened or closed at will, and there were many appurtenances and clever
contrivances for comfort, designed to add to the delights of a long tour.
The family had been so eager to start at once that they had not paused to
get hats or wraps, and as the top was down, the strong breeze blew their
hair all about, and also made conversation a little difficult.
But the Maynard children were not baffled by difficulties, and they
raised their voices until they were audible in spite of the wind.
"Isn't it magnificent!" screamed Marjorie, pulling at King's collar to
attract his attention.
"Perfectly gorgiferous!--and then some!" he yelled back, a little
preoccupied in manner, because he was leaning over the chauffeur's
shoulder, in his impatience to learn how to run the machine.
They went flying through the streets of Rockwell, and out into the
country for a little run. Then as they were to start on their tour next
day, Mrs. Maynard declared they must be turning homeward.
"Oh, Father," cried Marjorie, "after Mother gets out, mayn't we take
Delight out for a few moments? Even only just around the block?"
"Will she care to go, Mopsy? You know an automobile isn't such a
wonderful novelty to her as it is to you."
"Oh, yes, she'll care to go in ours,--and anyway I mean just for a
minute."
"All right then, chickabiddy; we'll put Mother and Baby out, then we'll
take Delight around the block, and that'll be about all for to-day."
So Mrs. Maynard and Rosy Posy were deposited on their own doorstep, and
the big red car flew across the street to give Delight an exhibition
of its glories.
She was glad to go, but she was far from being as enthusiastic as the
Maynard children, for Delight was a timid little girl, and never felt
entirely at her ease in a fast-flying motor. She nestled in the back seat
between Marjorie and Kitty, and grasped both their hands when the car
swung swiftly around a corner.
Then they happened to meet Flip Henderson walking along the street, and
they picked him up as an extra passenger, and then Kitty said: "Oh, now
we've got the whole Jinks Club except Dorothy Adams. Do let's stop for
her, Father, and then go round one more block."
Good-natured Mr. Maynard consented, and though there was no vacant seat,
Dorothy was bundled in somehow, and the crowd of shouting, laughing
children were driven around several blocks.
The quiet little town of Rockwell was amazed at the sight, and thought it
must be some new kind of a circus advertisement, until they realized that
it was the Maynard family, and people had long ceased to be surprised at
what the Maynards did.
But at last the children who were not Maynards were left at their
respective homes, and the big red car again turned in at its own home.
"Where are you going to keep it, Father?" asked King, as they all
scrambled out.
"I shall have a garage built on the place as soon as we get back; but for
to-night our pet will have to sleep in other lodgings. Skip into the
house now, you children, for I want to talk to Pompton without the
interruption of a crowd of chatter-boxes."
So the three went into the house and stood together at a front window,
flattening their noses against the glass, as they looked out at their new
treasure. King was in the middle, behind his two sisters, with an arm
around both their necks, and he explained to them in a very learned way,
a great many points about the machine that they did not understand. His
explanations were far from being correct or true, but as he didn't know
that, nor the girls either, it really made no difference.
At last Pompton drove away with the car, and they watched it disappear
down the street, and then turned to greet Mr. Maynard as he entered.
Marjorie went straight up to her father, and stood in front of him.
"I do think you are the most wonderful Father in the whole world," she
said, eyeing him in a judicial manner.
"And the grandest!" said Kitty, snuggling herself in under his arm.
"And the tip-toppest!" declared King, grasping his father's other hand.
"Well, well!" exclaimed Mr. Maynard, dropping into an armchair, "I am
certainly catching some fine compliments! And I'd like to return them.
I don't mind confessing that I think you young people just about the
highest class of goods in the market!"
"But we're not as splendid as you are," said Marjorie, thoughtfully;
"because you do things for us, and we never do anything for you."
"Oh, yes, you do," returned her father; "you do all I want you to, by
just living, and growing, and trying to behave yourselves properly."
"But we don't always do that," said Kitty, with a repentant air.
"You do, Kit," said King, generously, "you're always good. Mops and I are
the ones that slip up."
"It's human nature to slip up occasionally," said Mr. Maynard, "but I
think on the whole my kiddies do pretty well. Now, as you know, we start
to-morrow for Grandma Sherwood's, and while I'm not going to give you a
lecture on the subject, I _am_ going to ask you to behave pretty fairly
well while you're at her house. You know she's not as young as she once
was, and a lot of mischievous children may make her a great deal of
trouble if they wish to,--or they can refrain from doing so. Need I say
any more?"
"Not another word, Father," declared Marjorie; "I promise to be as good
as pie,--custard pie!"
"And I'll be as good as mince pie," said King, "you can't beat that!"
"Yes, I can," said Kitty; "I shall be as good as lemon meringue
pie,--with a high, fluffy meringue, and little browny wiggles all over
the top."
"You've struck it, Kit," said her brother, admiringly; "that _is_ the
best kind of pie,--and you'll be the best of the Maynard bunch! Say,
Kitty, doesn't it hurt you to be so good?"
"No," said Kitty, placidly, "I like it."
There was not much fun in teasing Kitty, she was too matter-of-fact, so
King turned his attentions to Marjorie, and with apparent innocence
kicked out his foot just in time for her to stumble over it. This led to
a general scrimmage, in which two Maynards, two sofa-pillows, and a
footstool became very much tangled up, and Mr. Maynard and Kitty sat
smiling indulgently at them, with the air of enjoying the performance and
not caring to take part in it.
Of course the dinner hour and all the hours until bedtime were occupied
in conversation about the projected trip, and when at last the little
Maynards were tucked into bed, their dreams still continued to hover
around the same subject.
* * * * *
The next day proved to be most kindly disposed as to weather, and the
brilliant May sunshine sparkled on the big red car as it stood waiting
for its passengers.
There was more or less hurry and scurry of getting ready, but the elder
Maynards were of systematic and methodical habits, so that really
everything was ready ahead of time. Two trunks had been sent on by
express to Grandma Sherwood's, and one large trunk which was to accompany
them on their trip, was already fastened in place at the back of the car.
The children all had new motor coats of pongee, which they could wear
over other wraps if necessary. The girls also had fascinating little
hoods of shirred silk, Marjorie's being rose color, and Kitty's blue.
They greatly admired themselves and each other in these costumes, and
Marjorie declared it gave her a trippy feeling just to look at them.
They started at ten o'clock. Mrs. Maynard and Kitty sat back with
Rosamond between them. Midget and King in the next two seats, and Mr.
Maynard in front with the chauffeur.
They went flying down the drive to a chorus of good-byes from the
servants, who assembled to see them off, and who would take care of the
house in their absence.
As they whizzed across the street, and paused for a moment in front of
Delight's house, Delight and Miss Hart came running down to wave a
good-bye, and their hands were full of flowers which they flung into the
automobile all over its merry occupants.
"Good-bye, good-bye!" they called, for the Maynards had not stopped, but
merely slowed down a little, and were now again speeding on their way.
Marjorie and King stood up in their places, and waved handkerchiefs and
flowers, and shouted good-bye until they could no longer be seen or
heard.
"Now we are really started," said Marjorie, settling back into her seat
with an air of great satisfaction. "Having all these flowers thrown at us
seems like a wedding trip or something. There's not nearly so much wind
to-day, and then, with this hood, my hair doesn't blow about so, anyway.
Oh, Father, I'm awful hungry! Can't we stop at the grocer's and get some
ginger-snaps and apples?"
"You've just had your breakfast, but I suppose automobile kiddies must
have something to nibble on!" So a stop was made at the grocer's, and a
supply of ginger-snaps and apples was added to their other luggage.
Mr. Hiller, the grocer, was very much interested in the motor party, and
came out himself to wish them good speed.
"I don't know what Rockwell will do without the Maynard tribe," he said;
"you youngsters keep things lively around town. And you're going to be
away a month, you say. Well, well!"
"Perhaps it's a good thing to give the town a little rest, Mr. Hiller,"
said Mr. Maynard, laughing.
"No, sir; no, sir; them children of yours never does anything vicious.
Full of mischief they may be, full of fun they may be, but never really
naughty. No, no!"
Mr. Maynard expressed a laughing appreciation of these compliments, and
then they started once more.
"Now we're really off," said King, "we won't have to stop again."
"Oh, I think most of the fun is stopping," said Marjorie; "I love to stop
and then go on again. Perhaps we can get out and pick some wild flowers
or wade in a brook."
"Not to-day," said her father, "but some days you may do that to your
heart's content. The whole trip is going to be just one long picnic, and
we're going to get all the fun out of it we possibly can."
"I think it's delicious," said Kitty, in her quiet way; "I think it's
fun enough just to glide along like this, with the blue sky shining all
over us, and the trees waving their boughs at us, and even the fences
jig-jigging along at our side."
"You're so poetical, Kitty," said Marjorie; "I love the blue sky and the
green trees too, but just now I want to see a red apple and a brown
ginger-snap!"
"Midget, I believe you could eat at any time," said her mother, laughing.
"Yes, I could," said Midget, contentedly, "'cept when I've just had
enough. And I do feel like eating, but I feel like singing, too."
"You can't do both at once," said her brother.
"No, but I can do first one and then the other. Now I'll tell you,
Father, what to do. You make a little song for us, while I eat this
apple. A kind of a little motor song, you know."
So while Marjorie ate her apple, and the other children engaged in the
same pursuit, Mr. Maynard made a little song for them.
This was a favorite game of the Maynards. Father Maynard had a knack of
turning off verses, and they usually sang them to some well-known air, or
perhaps made up a little crooning tune of their own.
So when the apples were finished and the cores flung away, Mr. Maynard
lined out his little song, and the children quickly learned it.
After two or three attempts they were able to sing it correctly, and they
stowed it away in their memory as one of their favorite songs, and at
intervals throughout the day their young voices filled the air with these
sentiments:
"Very happy the Maynards are;
Taking a tour in their motor car
Gaily to Grandma's lickety-split
Marjorie, Rosamond, Kingdon, and Kit
Mothery, fathery, also along,--
Gaily we sing our motor car song!
Hooray, hooray!
For our holiday
May for the Maynards!
Maynards for May!"