Chapter II: Part 2

"Coming! Coming! Here!" shouted Mr. Merrill reassuringly as he dashed over to his little daughter, picked her up by the shoulders and set her, safe and sound, on dry sand just in time to miss a fair sized wave.

"I guess I'm wet!" said Mary Jane.

"I guess you are," laughed Mr. Merrill, "but I guess things will dry and you're not so very awfully too wet--not enough to spoil the party, is she, mother?"

Mrs. Merrill looked thoughtful and all the children waited anxiously for her answer. Would Mary Jane have to go clear off home and miss the party and everything! But it wasn't to be as bad as all that. Mrs. Merrill remembered the warm day, the glowing sun that was still bright and warm and she also remembered the hot fire Linn had underway and the warm sand all around the fire.

"Of course she isn't wet enough to spoil the party," said Mrs. Merrill, much to every one's relief. "Only she'll have to stay close by the fire till she gets warm and dry. Suppose we appoint her head cook and make her stay right there where it's hot?"

"She'll get dry then!" exclaimed Ed, so fervently that they all knew he had had many a hot face from working by the fire at previous picnics.

"But how about your castles?" asked Mr. Holden, "weren't we to have an exhibit?"

But the castles! Dear me! In the excitement of Mary Jane's tumble, no one had given a thought to the castles. They were stepped on, and trampled down and all matted down into the sand.

"That's just too bad!" said Mrs. Merrill.

"Pooh!" exclaimed John, dismissing the whole question of castles with one wave of the hand, "who cares about castles! _We're_ going to have supper." And every one set to work.

Mary Jane was supposed to be head cook, but as she had never before been to a beach party, she really didn't know what to do. So she simply stayed close by the hot fire while the boys brought three benches and made them in a triangle around the fire--a little way back of course. Then Mrs. Holden and Mrs. Merrill unpacked the baskets and fixed a place on the bench for each person. To be sure nobody was expected to sit on the bench--that would be quite too proper for a beach party meal. But the mothers put a paper plate and a cup for each person on the benches and then they put on the plate as many sandwiches and pickles and cookies and everything as each person was entitled to.

While they were doing this, Linn raked down the hot coals, set in place a light wire rack he had made and spread a couple of dozen weenies out to roast.

"Now then, Mary Jane," he said to the head cook, "you take this long fork. And as soon as a weenie begins to sputter and brown, turn it over so it browns on the other side too."

That was a very important job, Mary Jane could easily see, and she determined that every weenie _she_ cooked would be done just to a turn. She bent over the fire till her back got a crook in it; then she sat down on the hot sand close to the coals and by the time the weenies were done ready to eat she was so dry and hot that she felt sure she had never slipped into the lake--never!

And all the time Mary Jane was cook, Linn and Mr. Merrill stayed close to see that the coals kept evenly hot and that no bit of flame started up to burn the head cook.

At last the weenies were ready. Each one was beautifully brown and was sizzling and sputtering and sending a most tempting odor to hungry folks.

"Form a line, folks," said Mrs. Holden, "ladies first!"

With much laughter, each person got their own roll, which had been split and buttered, and filed passed Mary Jane. And Mary Jane, instructed by Linn just how to do her job, picked up one weenie after another on the long fork and dropped each one in an open roll held out before her. It was a scary job, for the sand was close below and Mary Jane knew that weenies dropped into the sand wouldn't taste very good. But she took her time--too much time, John thought.

"Don't be 'fraid of any old sand," he assured her when she put his weenie in his roll so very carefully, "I eat 'em any way--sand or not."

Betty eyed Mary Jane a bit enviously. This being chief cook and having a chance to fill the rolls of each person must surely be fun.

"Next time we have a beach party," she announced between bites, "_I'm_ going to fall into the lake too!"

"I'll save you the trouble," replied Mr. Holden understandingly, "I'll let you be chief cook without getting wet."

Betty needn't have worried about Mary Jane's being willing to give up her job. For there was one disadvantage in that position Miss Betty hadn't thought of and Mary Jane had just discovered--the head cook had no time to eat. And Mary Jane was getting fearfully hungry. She was more than willing to give up the big fork, let Betty fill her roll for her and stand up with the others to eat the good hot morsel.

Did anything ever taste as good as those hot weenie sandwiches, eaten there on the edge of Lake Michigan, with the fine lake air blowing in their faces and the sunshine warming them and making them forget the chill of the long winter? The Merrills thought they had never had so much fun and tasted such good things. Every weenie (and there had seemed to be far too many) was eaten up; every roll disappeared and cookies and pickles and sandwiches just vanished as though a warm breeze had melted them away.

Supper over, the sun going down reminded the children that they must get the fire ready for dark. They scampered up and down the broad beach, gathering together all the pieces of drift wood they could find. Later in the year wood along that beach would be hard to find. But in the early spring, before the driftings of the winter's storms had been burned up by picnickers like themselves, there was plenty to be had.

Linn and Ed put away the cooking rack in the case they had made for it, the two mothers packed up debris and burned it so the beach would be left clean and tidy, and all the others gathered wood. Such a lot as they did find! Linn piled it on high and by the time the sun went to sleep in the west, the fire was so bright that nobody noticed the growing darkness. They all sat around on the warm sand and sang--college songs that the children had learned from the fathers, school songs and popular songs that they all knew. It was fun to sit there close by the big lake, to watch the sparks fly upward, to hear the waves swish against the sand and to sing and sing as loud as they liked.

But when the darkness settled down enough so that mysterious shadows lurked over every shoulder and the stars helped the fire make a light, Ed announced, "Now let's play Indian."

So they did. Playing Indian, the Merrill girls found, meant a queer follow-the-leader game. Ed led off first and everybody had to follow. He ran round and round the fire, prancing and yelling like a wild man. And the point of the game was for everybody to do exactly as he did. They ran and jumped and yelled till everybody was breathless with exercise and laughter and was glad to sit down again and do nothing.

By this time the fire had again died down to a bed of coals.

"_Now_ it's time for the marshmallows, isn't it?" asked Betty. She was right, it was.

The boxes of marshmallows were opened, wires pulled out of the baskets and all the children sat around the fire a-toasting. 'Twas just as Betty had promised. The wires were plenty long enough so that no fingers needed to be burned or dresses scorched and the bed of coals was big enough to make room for all.

Betty and Mary Jane thought they would keep count and see who could eat the most, but after six they lost count, and they ate and ate till they simply couldn't eat any more.

"Let's play still pond," suggested Frances.

She stood up near the fire and announced, "Twenty steps, two jumps, three hops and a roll. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten--STILL POND."

As she said the numbers off, the children began scampering to a place to safety. All but Mary Jane. She wasn't used to playing on the slippery, slidy sand. And though she started off just as big as anybody, she slipped and stumbled and hadn't more than got to her feet when the words, "Still pond!" were called. And after that she couldn't move but just to use the steps, jumps, hops and roll Frances had given them.

To make matters even more exciting, Frances started off exactly in her direction.

But Mary Jane hadn't played "Still Pond" in her own yard for nothing. Perhaps she hadn't learned to run on slippery sand as yet, but she did know how to play that game. Instead of trying to quietly take her twenty steps in an effort to get out of Frances' way, she took two quick steps, dropped down on the sand, gave one little roll, and--was safely hidden under one of the picnic benches they had used for supper!

Frances passed so close Mary Jane could have touched her. Other folks were chased and found, but Mary Jane's hiding place was undiscovered. Of course when she rolled in under the bench, Mary Jane had expected to roll right out again when somebody else was caught. But when she found that they couldn't see her; that they went right around close at hand, talking about her and wondering where she was and all that, she thought it was such a good joke that she lay very still and watched.

She heard them asking each other where she was seen last; she heard her father say she couldn't be so very far away; and she saw them all start off in search of herself. Then, just the minute their backs were turned but before they had had time to be really frightened, she slipped out from under her seat, stood up close by the dying fire and shouted, "Here I am, can't you see me?"

They thought it a very good joke she had played and Mary Jane was sure she would always remember that the best hiding place is often the nearest one.

"Time to go home," said Mr. Holden, looking at his watch, "the fire's most out and the party's over."

"But there'll be another one, won't there?" begged Mary Jane.

"Let's have it next week," said Betty.

The boys loaded up the empty baskets on their wagon--not much of a load going home! Mr. Merrill raked out the fire so no harm would come to anything; Mr. Holden gathered the children together and started the line of march. It was a happy little crowd that wandered homeward and they all agreed with Mary Jane when she said, "Well, anyway, I think a beach party's the mostest fun I know. It's more fun than moving!"

MARY JANE GOES SHOPPING

The days after the beach party seemed to fly past on wings. First it was a Monday and then, before a person could do half the nice things planned, Saturday was coming 'round again and Alice was home all day from school and fun for the four Merrills could be planned. Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane took to doing all their "Saturday marketing" on Friday afternoon so they could have more time on Saturday for trips and sight-seeing and all the lovely things folks like to do when they've just moved to a big city.

One Saturday morning, not so very long after the beach party, dawned--not bright and warm and sunny as Mary Jane had hoped it surely would--but rainy and cold and windy as some May mornings are sure to be in Chicago. A cold northeast wind raced across the city and folks had blue noses and shivery finger tips and not a single thing to be seen looked like spring.

"Now just look at it!" exclaimed Mary Jane as she stared out of the living-room window, "and we were going to take a trip through the parks and I was going to wear my new hat and everything. And look!"

"And we can't go to the parks again for another whole week!" bemoaned Alice, "'cause there's school!"

"Just look!" exclaimed Mary Jane again as a hard gust of wind tossed the rain against the winds exactly as though Mr. Rain was saying to Mary Jane, "Thought you'd go out, did you? Well, look what I'm doing!"

"You girls talk as though parks were the only things to see in Chicago," said Mrs. Merrill as pleasantly and comfortably as though there was no such thing as a disappointment in the world.

Alice and Mary Jane turned away from the window quickly. Something in their mother's tone of voice made them suspect that the day wasn't to be a disappointment after all.

"It's funny to me," continued Mrs. Merrill in a matter of fact voice, "that you folks haven't asked to go to the big stores--wouldn't you like to?"

"Like to!" exclaimed Alice.

"Would we?" cried Mary Jane. "But we didn't think about it!"

"Then we'll think about it now," replied Mrs. Merrill. "If you can hold an umbrella down tight over your head so as not to get your hat wet, I think we could manage to get to the train without getting soaked. And once down at the store, we could check our wet umbrellas and shop and sight-see through the stores all we wished to without a bit of hurry."

"Oh, may we really go?" asked Alice.

"Well," answered Mrs. Merrill, pretending to hesitate, "if you _really_ care to--"

That settled it and there was no more time wasted talking about weather _that_ morning. Dishes were washed and beds were made and dusting was done so quickly that the little flat must have been quite surprised and pleased with itself--it got put into rights so very quickly. Then Mary Jane got her hair fixed nicely and a pretty hair bow put on--the bow wouldn't show very much under the new hat, but even that little had to be just right--and then, while mother fixed her own and Alice's hair, she put on a pretty dress--not a party dress, of course, but a nice, pretty, dark dress. Then they all put on rubbers and raincoats and locked up the doors and took their umbrellas and started for the train.

Going down town on the train was fun. In the city where Mary Jane lived before, one could walk down town. Or if one really wanted to ride, a street car hustled one to the stores in about five minutes. But in Chicago, so she discovered, she had to have a ticket and go through a gate, and up stairs and onto a platform and aboard a train and everything just as though one intended to go away, far off. The girls both liked to ride down town. To be sure they couldn't see much of the lake, even though they did ride right along beside it, because the rain made it all look dim and gray and foggy. But they knew the lake was there; they could see the spray the waves made and once in a while they could hear the noise of splashing water above the roar of the train. All too soon, for there was so much to see, the train pulled into their station and the conductor shouted, "Randolph Street! Everybody out! Far's we go!" And all the folks aboard got their umbrellas ready and went out into the rain.

Fortunately it was only a very little way from the station to the big store where Mrs. Merrill took the girls, so they didn't have a chance to get tired or very wet. And as soon as they got indoors, Mrs. Merrill found a checking place and they left wet umbrellas and wet raincoats and wet rubbers and started out for fun.

"I think that's awfully convenient--just to leave things that way," said Alice as she settled her collars and cuffs and made sure she was tidy, "and of course we'll get them back safely?" This checking system was new to her and she wanted to be assured it was all right.

"To be sure we will," said Mrs. Merrill. "See? I have the checks for them."

"Well, then," said Mary Jane, "let's begin."

"Yes," said Alice, "let's. And let's see _everything_!"

"All right," laughed Mrs. Merrill; "shall we take an elevator first?"

"Oh, no," answered Alice, "'cause then we'd miss the first floor."

So they "did" the first floor, seeing all the handkerchiefs and jewelry and bags and fans and pretty decorations and ribbons--Alice could hardly leave those lovely ribbons--and neckwear--Mary Jane saw five different neckties she needed--and so many things.

"Do they have anything left for the second floor?" asked Mary Jane when they finally got around to where they had started.

"You just see," said Mrs. Merrill.

And sure enough there were plenty of things on the second floor, pretty dishes and lamps and so many things that, really, Mary Jane almost got tired looking at them all.

By the time they got ready for the third floor, Mary Jane was wondering if there were any seats in that store. Not seats where you sit down to buy things, but really seats where you just sit down whether you buy anything or not. And sure enough there were just those seats. Nice, big comfy ones, that appeared to be made for Mary Janes who went a-shopping and wanted to sit down. The Merrills sat down on a big couch and Mary Jane leaned back ready to rest when--who should she see right in front of her but Frances Westland! The girl she met at grandmother's house nearly a year ago.

In a jiffy Mary Jane forgot all about wanting to sit down. She slid down from the comfortable couch, dashed after Frances, who, not guessing that a friend was so near, was hurrying by, and brought her back to meet mother and Alice.

Then they all sat down for a visit.

"No, I'm not living here," said Frances in answer to Mrs. Merrill's question, "I've been spending the spring with my auntie and going to school here. But just as soon as school is out I'm going back home. Mother needs me."

"I don't doubt it," replied Mrs. Merrill, who was much pleased with the little girl, "I'm sure your mother misses you greatly. But where are you living and can't we see you before you go and can't you take lunch with us to-day?"

It seemed that Frances's auntie lived in the same part of the city the Merrills lived in and there was every reason to believe that the girls might see each other at least once or twice in the little time left of the school year.

"But I don't believe I can eat lunch with you," added Frances, "'cause auntie and I have to hurry home." So with a promise to come to see them soon at the address Mrs. Merrill wrote out on her card for Frances, the friends said good-by.

"I'll declare!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill, looking at her watch after Frances left them. "It's almost twelve o'clock already! And we were to meet father at one. If you girls want to see anything of the toys and dolls and playrooms, we'd better not be sitting around here any longer."

Of course the girls did want to see the toys and dolls and everything. When they got to the fourth floor where all the children's things were kept, they were sorry they had spent even a minute any place else. For all the lovely dolls and marvelous toys and enticing games and beautiful pictures and fascinating puzzles made a person think that Santa Claus's shop and fairyland and magic were all mixed up together and set down in one place. The girls looked and looked and looked. They "oh-ed" and "ah-ed" and exclaimed till they couldn't think of anything more to say--and then they kept right on looking just the same.

Mary Jane picked out the doll coat she wanted Georgiannamore to have and Alice selected a lovely desk. They agreed upon a set of dishes and upon charming furniture for their balcony--just the right size too.

"And we'll pretend we'll buy it all, mother," said Mary Jane, who knew perfectly well she couldn't buy all the things she talked about getting, "and we'll pretend we'll have it all sent up, that'll be such fun."

So they pretended and looked and looked and pretended till they had been over most all that part of the store.

"Now then," said Mrs. Merrill, "if we're to meet Dadah for lunch--"

"Oh, goody!" cried Alice, "are we to meet him here?"

"Not here," said Mrs. Merrill, "but in this store in the lunch room and in ten minutes. So we'd better wash our hands and go to the lunch room floor."

Mr. Merrill was waiting for them and had a table engaged close by a charming fountain ("Just think of a fountain in a house!" exclaimed Mary Jane when she spied it) and all the time Mary Jane sat there eating, she could look right over and watch the fishes and she could hear the splash of the water.

But Mary Jane wasn't thinking of fishes or water just then. She was hungry. And the things her father read to her sounded so good--oh, dear, but they did sound good! She and Alice had a dreadfully hard time deciding just what did sound the best. But Alice finally decided on stuffed chicken legs (she hadn't an idea what they were but they sounded good) and potato salad and strawberry parfait. And Mary Jane chose chicken pie--a whole one all her own--and hashed brown potatoes and orange sherbet.

While the lunch was being fixed, Mr. Merrill took Mary Jane over to the window so she could look down, down, way down, to the street below, where the folks appeared so little and upside down and where the automobiles looked like the ones they had just seen in the toy department.

When the lunch came, it proved to be just as good as the menu promised it would be and the girls enjoyed every bite. Mary Jane was afraid for a minute that she had made a mistake. For Alice's parfait came in a tall glass, with a long spoon that made the girls think of the story of the fox and the goose and the banquet, and Mary Jane was sure nothing she had ordered could be as nice as parfait. But when the maid set the orange sherbet at her place, Mary Jane was quite satisfied, for the ice was set in a real orange, all cut out in dainty scallops and trimmed with green.

"Yummy-um!" she whispered, happily. "I'm so glad you had this party, Dadah!"

Dadah seemed to want everything to be all right, for he had added to their order some little cakes, done up in frilly papers and unlike anything the girls had ever seen. They almost hated to eat them, they were so pretty, but cakes one cannot eat are not good for much, Mr. Merrill reminded them, and so the cakes were eaten up.

"Now then," said Mary Jane, as she dabbled her fingers in the finger bowl and ate up the candy she found at the side of the tiny tray, "what do we do next?"

THE BUS RIDE

"What do we do next?" asked Mr. Merrill, repeating Mary Jane's question. "I'm sure of this much--we must do something _very_ nice because it's such a nice day."

"_Nice day_!" exclaimed Alice. "What in the world are you talking about, Dadah? This is the worst weather we've had since we came to Chicago--but we don't care 'cause we're having such a good time anyway."

Mr. Merrill laughed and replied, "Suppose you look out of the window."

So they left their cozy table, where nothing but empty dishes told the story of their delightful lunch party, and wandered over to the window where Mary Jane had looked down at the street not much over an hour before. But what a difference! With a sudden, unexpected shift of wind that only the Chicago weather man knows how to bring about, the stiff, cold northeaster that had brought the cold rain of the morning had been sent off and in its place a warm breeze from the south blew softly across the city, bringing with it sunshine and warmth and pleasantness for all.

"Why--" exclaimed Mary Jane, much puzzled, "where's the rain?"

"Did you want it back?" laughed Mrs. Merrill, and then she explained to the girls something about the effect the big lake might have on weather and told them that one of the queer things about Chicago was its sudden changes to good, or sometimes bad, weather.

"So I was wondering," said Mr. Merrill, "if you folks wouldn't like an hour of fresh air and then, if you're not through shopping we can come back to the stores."

The girls hadn't an idea what he might want to do, but they were pretty sure it would be fun. So they agreed that an hour out of doors was just what they most wanted and they went down to get wraps from the check room. They left the umbrellas till later, put on their wraps and left the store.

"Now then," said Mr. Merrill, "see that big bus down there--we're going for a ride on the top."

"What's a bus?" asked Mary Jane, who had never heard the word before. But before her father could answer they were pushed into the crowd at the crossing, hurried across and the next second Mr. Merrill had hailed a great, lumbering, top-heavy automobile and was helping the girls to step aboard.

The "bus" proved to be a large-sized passenger automobile, with a deck on top for passengers who wished to ride in the open air. Mary Jane and Alice were thrilled with the fun of getting on it. It seemed exactly like going aboard a house-boat on wheels. They stepped into a little hallway and then--and this wasn't so easy because the bus immediately began to move--they climbed up a curving flight of stairs and walked down an aisle--an awfully wiggly aisle it was too!--to seats on the very front row.

Then, before they had had a chance to look around or feel at home, the conductor, who stood at the back, shouted, "Low bridge!" and everybody ducked their heads while the great bus went under the elevated railroad. Mary Jane felt, truly, as though she must be a person in a story book--Arabian Nights or something marvelous--because surely the things that were happening to her weren't _really_ happening.

But after the elevated was passed, the bus rolled out onto Michigan Boulevard and Mary Jane settled herself comfortably in her front seat with her mother, smiled across the aisle to Alice and her father and began to feel really at home in her high perch. By the time the bus had turned northward and crossed the river, she began to feel that riding on the top of a bus was the thing she'd been wanting to do all her life. It was such fun to sit up high and watch the lake, so blue and beautiful in the sunshine, the trees just getting a tinge of green at the tips, the pretty houses that lined the parkway, the people--it seemed as everybody in Chicago must be out in their 'tother best clothes--and most of all, it was fun to watch the automobiles dart in and out of the crowd, around the bus and beside it, till Mary Jane was sure their driver must be some wonderful being to be able to manage so that everybody stayed alive!

"Here, Mary Jane," said Mr. Merrill, interrupting Mary Jane's sight-seeing, "don't you want to pay your fare--Alice is paying ours." He slipped two dimes into her hand just as the conductor stepped to the front of the bus. Mary Jane wasn't quite sure what she was to do with the dimes till she noticed that the conductor had in his hand a queer-looking thing like a clock, only it had a hole in the top just the right size for a dime. Into that hole Mary Jane dropped a dime. And--"ding_ding_!" went a musical little bell somewhere in the "clock." Then she dropped the other dime. And again the bell sounded, "ding_ding_!" just as though it tried to say "Thank _you_!" that way. Alice then dropped her two dimes and Mary Jane had the fun of hearing the bell again. She thought she wouldn't do a thing but watch the conductor and listen to his bell all the time he collected fares, but just as he stepped back to get the next folks' money the bus passed in front of the queer old stone building with great tower that Mr. Merrill said was the city water works building, and of course that meant the girls wanted to hear about when it was built and hear again the story Mr. Merrill had started to tell them several evenings before about how the great Chicago fire started and how it burned up to this very spot they were now passing. Somehow, being at that place and seeing the one building that stood through the fire made the history stories seem very plain and there were a lot of questions to be asked and answered.

But buses don't wait for questions--the girls soon discovered that! Long before the fire story was told they had raced up Lake Shore Drive, passed its beautiful old homes, and were turning into Lincoln Park. Here it seemed to the girls that the city ended and fairyland began. The grass seemed greener, the lake bluer and the trees greener than any place they had seen; and hundreds of tulips peeping up through the ground here, there and everywhere, made spots of bright vivid color and beauty.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mary Jane happily, "I hope the bus goes on and on forever! I'd like to keep on riding all the time!"

But when, a minute or two later, they passed near the buildings of the Zoo, Mary Jane forgot all about wanting to ride forever and wanted to get out, right away quick and see all the animals she had heard lived there.

"Not to-day," said Mr. Merrill, looking at his watch. "You remember we are to go back to the stores--we're just out for a bit of fresh air this time. Some other day when it's still warmer so we can get our dinner here, then we'll come and visit the Zoo. But to-day I want to get back to the stores before they close."

"Of course," added Alice, "for our umbrellas."

"Of course for something else too," laughed her father, and though both girls were very curious, not another word would he say.

So they stayed on the bus and rode clear through the park, and up Sheridan Road a long way till the bus turned around at a corner and the conductor shouted, "Far's we go!"

But the Merrills didn't get off. They wanted to keep those good front seats so they sat still and in about two minutes the bus started south and whirled them through the park and past all the same interesting sights on the way cityward. This time, Mary Jane felt very much at home in her high-up perch. She dropped in the dimes her father gave her, eyed the passing autos without a bit of fear and looked down on all the children she saw walking and playing quite as though she had lived in a city and ridden in busses all her young life.

It was a very reluctant pair of young ladies that Mr. Merrill assisted to the sidewalk when the big stores and "time to get off" were reached.

"But what was it besides umbrellas you wanted to get?" asked Mary Jane, suddenly remembering.

"Well," said Mr. Merrill, "I haven't been through the toy department with anybody. And I have a calendar."

The girls looked puzzled. What had the toy department to do with a calendar? They couldn't guess. Even Mrs. Merrill looked puzzled.

"Of course if you don't intend to have birthdays since we've moved--" said Mr. Merrill teasingly. And then everybody knew! To be sure! It was almost time for Mary Jane's birthday--almost a year, it was, since the lovely birthday party when the little girl was five years old--and in the excitement of moving and getting settled and seeing new sights, even the little lady herself had forgotten how near the day was at hand.

"It's mine!" exclaimed Mary Jane happily, "and I'll be six! Come on, quick, Dadah! and I'll show you perzactly what I want." When Mary Jane got excited she sometimes got words a little mixed, but her father knew well enough just what she meant. She grabbed hold of his hand, called to her mother and Alice to come on with them and away they went toward the elevator that quickly took them to the toy section.

Going through that department the second time was even more fun than the first trip, because now father was along to see things and to explain mechanical toys. And also because there was the fun of picking out the thing she wanted to wish for, for her birthday. That last was a very serious matter, as every little girl knows.

They looked at dolls--but not a doll was as lovely as Georgiannamore, at least that was Mary Jane's opinion--and then they looked at furniture and at dishes and toys and games and clothes for dolls and, well, at every single thing in that whole big department. After everything had been considered and looked at and thought about, and it was about time for the big warning bell to ring and tell folks that in ten minutes the store would close and everybody'd have to get out, then and not until then, Mary Jane decided that the thing she wanted most of all was a doll cart. A beautiful little ivory enameled doll cart made just exactly like the one that Junior's little brother had back at their old home. A cart with a top that moved back and forth just like a real baby cart and that had cushions and tires and everything that a really truly mother is particular to want for her baby.

"Yes," said Mary Jane, as she looked around the store with a rather tired sigh, "I think that's the thing I want the most and I'm going to wish for it, Dadah."

"Sounds easily settled," laughed her father, "but do you know what time it is?"

Before she could answer, the warning bell rang and clerks began to cover up counters and to straighten up the store for its Sunday rest. So the Merrills four hurried down to get umbrellas and to go home.

On the train going home Mary Jane was so tired looking at things that she didn't care a bit about looking any more. She watched the lake some, but mostly she simply settled back in her little corner behind the door and just sat. Thoughts of all the wonderful things she had seen that day raced through her mind--the lunch, the ride, the lake, the park--but most of all, that wonderful doll cart, and she couldn't help wondering (and of course hoping) if she really truly would, _possibly_, get that lovely gift for her birthday.

THE BIRTHDAY LUNCHEON

As soon as they got home that evening, and had dinner and rested up a bit, Mary Jane hunted up a calendar so she could find out about her birthday. And she discovered that two weeks from that same day was "her" day.

"It's Saturday, so you can do something too!" she said to Alice. "Now, Mother, let's plan."

So they talked over all the nice things a person _might_ do for a birthday, but long before they could decide which was the very nicest of all the plans, bedtime came. Then the next morning there were interesting things to do, and nobody thought about plans for a day that was two weeks away. That is, nobody but Mary Jane thought about it, and, if the truth must be told, she thought more about the doll cart she had wished for than she did about what she might do to celebrate.

Monday noon, when Alice came home for her luncheon, she was much excited.

"Who do you s'pose I saw at recess this morning?" she demanded. "Guess!"

But Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane couldn't guess--they didn't know anybody in Chicago to guess! Or at least they thought they didn't.

"I saw--" began Alice slowly, for she wanted the fun of keeping them waiting to last as long as possible, "I saw--Frances Westland! And she goes to my school!"

"Why in the world didn't we know that?" said Mrs. Merrill. "We should have guessed! Of course she goes to your school. I remember of thinking she wasn't very far from us."

"Can't we have her come to see us?" asked Mary Jane eagerly.

"I already asked her if she couldn't come," explained Alice, "because I knew you'd want me to, and she says she's sure she can. But she can't come next Saturday because she and her auntie are going to Milwaukee to spend the week-end. But she thought she could come the next Saturday."

"And that's my birthday," Mary Jane reminded her.

"I know it," agreed Alice, "but I didn't tell her. I just said I'd find out what we were doing that day and let her know this afternoon--was that all right, Mother?"

"You did exactly right, dear," said Mrs. Merrill reassuringly. "Come right out to the dining-room now, because your soup is ready and you mustn't hurry yourself too much with your lunch. While we eat, we'll plan for the birthday."

Of course there were many plans to be talked of, because in a big city there are so many kinds of things one may do. And it was awfully hard to decide which plan was the very most fun--you know how that is yourself. But after every plan that any of the three could think of had been discussed carefully, Mary Jane decided that there were two things she wanted the most to do. First, she wanted to stay home to celebrate and have a party and all that; and, second, she wanted to go down town and go to a big grown-up theater where there was music and lights and pretty things just like grown folks see up town. And for her part she admitted that she didn't see how a person possibly, even on a birthday, could do those two conflicting things.

"Pooh!" laughed Mrs. Merrill, "that's easy! I was telling Dad the other night that inasmuch as this was the first birthday in the city and on Saturday and everything--so convenient for us all--we'd better do those very two things."

"But how'll we do it, Mother?" asked Alice. "We can't stay home for a party while we're down town at the theater!"

"To be sure, we can't," agreed Mrs. Merrill. "But we can stay home for a party _before_ we go down town for a show. And that's just what we're going to do. You hurry off to school now, dear, because it's ten of one. And next time you see Frances Westland, you invite her to come here for twelve o'clock luncheon a week from next Saturday. Be sure to tell her it's an all-afternoon party, so she can stay long enough to go down town with us."

"And who else'll we have?" asked Mary Jane, when Alice had gone. "It wouldn't be a party with one person."

"Of course not," said her mother. "There are going to be three folks. After school this very day you are going to invite Frances and Betty Holden--that'll make it almost a 'Frances' party, won't it? We'll ask them right away, even though a week from Saturday is a long time off, because Dadah will want to get the tickets and we will all want to make our plans."

A week and five days seem a very long time, when you have to wait for them. But Mary Jane found that, after all, they went quicker than she had thought they could, because there was so much to do. First she had to decide what she wanted to have to eat at the luncheon. After much thought and consultation the menu was made out and tacked up on the kitchen cabinet for future reference. Mary Jane printed it out all by herself and the letters were big and plain and could be easily read by any cook--especially Mother. It said:

CHICKEN BALLS
HOT ROLLS
FRUIT SALAD WITH WHIPPED CREAM
ICE CREAM CAKE
HASHED BROWN POTATOES
JELLY

Chicken balls really meant chicken croquettes, but croquettes proved to be such a big and puzzling word that Mary Jane decided she would say balls and Mrs. Merrill agreed to take a verbal order for the croquette part of the luncheon.

When the food was planned for, Mary Jane began to talk about the decorations. It was soon found that to be really pretty, the table trimmings would have to be made by the hostess herself, so Mary Jane set to work. From the advertising sections of magazines she cut letters about an inch high. Letters enough to spell everybody's first name and last initial. She had to have the last initial because two of her guests had the same first name. These she sorted very carefully and put in envelopes; one envelope for each person and just the right letters in that envelope for the person's name. Then, she planned, when the luncheon was all ready, she would put the letters in little piles in front of each person's place and let them puzzle out the names before they sat down.

Mrs. Merrill promised to have a basket of flowers, spring flowers that Mary Jane loved so very much, in the center of the table. And Mary Jane planned to make a procession of girls and boys all around the basket. These she cut out of magazines too and she chose girls and boys who were doing all the things that she herself liked to do.

With all these things, besides regular duties and fun, to keep her busy, Mary Jane didn't really have a chance to think her birthday was a long time coming. First thing _she_ knew it was Friday night and the birthday was the very next morning!

On Saturday morning, she waked up knowing something nice was going to happen. Then, before her eyes were really open, she felt herself getting mother's birthday kisses and, before those were all delivered, Alice's birthday spats--six good big lively ones!

"Never you mind, Alice," she promised, "just wait till it's _your_ birthday and you'll get some of the hardest--"

"Don't stop for promises," said Mr. Merrill, coming in to deliver his spats too, "what I want is breakfast and for the life of me, _I_ can't get into that dining-room."

"_Oh!_" cried Mary Jane rapturously, "I'll be right out!"

"Not till you get dressed, you know," Alice reminded her, "so do hurry!" For it was one of the rules of the Merrill household that birthdays and Christmases didn't really begin till folks were dressed. So Mary Jane scrabbled into her clothes and gave her face and hands about the most hurry-up washing they had ever had and then rushed out to the dining-room.

And there, standing right by her chair, was the--yes, really--the very doll cart she had picked out! She was so happy that for a minute she couldn't speak, she just stared. The next minute she was down on her knees with her arms around the whole cart--or at least as much of the cart as two six-year-old arms could get around--and she was counting over all the wonderful virtues of her gift. It surely was a cart to make any little girl proud and when Mary Jane saw her own Georgiannamore, wearing a lovely new coat (Mrs. Merrill's gift), and a pair of really truly gloves (from Alice), and sitting up as big as life in the cart, she thought the happiest day of her life had come.

After breakfast the morning raced by on wings. Of course Mary Jane had to show the cart and doll's clothes to Betty and they had to walk around the block to give the doll an airing. Then, just as they got back to Mary Jane's apartment, the postman came with a box from grandpa and grandma. Betty was invited up for the fun of opening it and she was glad to come both for the fun and for the big pieces of grandmother's candy that she got when the box was opened. Then there was the table to set and the puzzle letters to put around and everybody to dress in their best--that's a good deal for one morning. No wonder it seemed to be an unusually short one.

At the very last minute, Mary Jane with her new white dress and pink ribbons all just as they should be, went in to the kitchen to see if she could help. And at that very minute a neighbor came in to get Mrs. Merrill's advice about an important matter.

"Everything's ready now," said Mrs. Merrill, as she left the kitchen. "Only, I believe, Mary Jane, it would be a good idea for you to put that whipped cream into the ice box. We won't make the salad till they get here and I want to keep it stiff and cold."

Now, Mary Jane had put things in the ice box many a time. Big things and little things and spilly things and all, and there was no reason in the world why she couldn't do it all right. No reason, except-- Just as she picked up the bowl of cream, the door bell rang a long, loud peal that she was sure must be her three guests coming all at once, so she hurried and the cream jiggled in the bowl, and slid over the edge--and all down the front of her best new dress!

Fortunately Alice came into the kitchen just then, in time to see the accident, and to notice two big tears which popped into Mary Jane's eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks.

"Pooh!" she exclaimed comfortably, "don't you worry about a little thing like that, Mary Jane," and she made a grab for the bowl, rescued some of the cream and set it in the ice box. "I'll have you fixed up so soon that you won't know anything happened."

"But it's all down my dress," said Mary Jane, trying her very best not to cry.

"Oh, well," replied Alice, nothing daunted, "it's not going to stay there long." She took a clean cloth, dampened it with cold water and, with quick little dabs, scrubbed the cream all off the front of the birthday dress. Then she took a fresh cloth, and more cold water and, putting a big, clean towel under the front of the dress, scrubbed again till every trace of the cream was gone. Then she opened the oven door so the heat would help dry the wetness and with a fresh cloth rubbed and rubbed the wet place till it was entirely dry.

"There now," she said, as she shook the dress into place, "I think the girls are here; let's go see." And immediately the accident that threatened to spoil Mary Jane's fun was forgotten.

Sure enough, the girls had come and the party began at once.

The letter puzzles for place cards proved to be lots of fun and filled in the time while Mrs. Merrill brought in the plates of good things to eat. Judging by the appetites Mary Jane's menu must have been a favorite with everybody, for the goodies disappeared by magic and Mrs. Merrill filled up plates and passed rolls and brought in salad and everything till she hardly had time to eat her own luncheon.

The ice cream was a surprise even to Mary Jane. On the plate was, first, a big, round piece of cake; then, on top of that, was a slice of ice cream, white, and on top of _that_ a ball of pink ice cream with a pink candle, lighted, stuck in the top. They looked so pretty and bright that the girls hated to blow them out, but Mrs. Merrill said every one was to make a wish and then blow and if the candle went out on the first blow the wish would come true.

Alice suddenly remembered that they were to take a train at one-thirty and that it was nearing one now, so the dessert was finished in a hurry, wraps were hastily put on and the whole party started for the train to meet Mr. Merrill and have the rest of the fun.

LOST--ONE DOLL CART

There was only one thing wrong about the birthday celebration and that was that the day was such a very busy, happy one that there was very little time for playing with the new doll cart. Of course Mary Jane and Betty took their dolls out for one airing in the morning soon after breakfast. But what is one little airing when one has a new cart? Nothing at all, Mary Jane thought. All through the luncheon and the ride down town and the play father took them to, which proved to be just the very most interesting kind of a play for little girls to see, Mary Jane kept thinking of her new cart and of the fun she would have on Monday when there was a whole day for Georgiannamore and the doll cart.

So when Monday morning actually came Mary Jane lost no time getting up and doing her share of the morning work. Mary Jane was very particular about her morning work. She didn't want her mother to have to do the things a six-year-old girl was plenty big enough to do; and then, anyway, she knew it was lots more fun to work when two did the job than for one person to work alone. She picked up all the papers, and emptied the waste baskets, and cleaned the bathroom washstand and the kitchen sink--she liked those jobs the best because they were so scrubby and grown-up and interesting--and put out clean towels and dusted the living-room. Of course this was after the dishes were washed and put away; that was a job with which Alice helped too, before she started for school. So by the time Mary Jane was ready to play Mrs. Merrill was about through too, ready for sewing or baking or whatever she had to do that day.

"I think I'd better help you take down your cart," suggested Mrs. Merrill, when the last job was finished. "It's not so easy for one person to take that cart down from the second floor. But it will be no trouble at all for you to take one end and me to take the other and carry it down together. Then you can put Georgiannamore in it before you start down and there'll be no danger of bouncing her out."

"But how'll I get back up, Mother?" asked Mary Jane.

"Ring the bell three short taps and I'll come down to meet you," answered Mrs. Merrill. "Don't try to bring it up alone; it's far too heavy."

Mary Jane dressed Georgiannamore in her very best dress, put on the new coat and gloves, tucked her carefully into the cart so she wouldn't catch cold by being out for a long walk, and then she and Mrs. Merrill carried the cart, oh, so very carefully, down stairs and out to the sidewalk.

Fortunately, that May morning was bright and sunny; the breeze blew warm from the southland instead of cold and blustery from the lake, and it was the very best kind of a morning possible for being out of doors. Mary Jane walked around the block, starting toward the lake, then she went around the block the other way, and of course she went rather slowly because there was so much to see and to show Georgiannamore. Bright colored crocuses were blooming in all the yards where there were houses--and in that particular neighborhood there were many houses as well as apartments--tulips were bursting up through the ground and the lilac buds were swelling their plump green sides nearly to the bursting point.