Mary Jane in New England

"Can we ride on them?" asked Mary Jane, breathless with excitement. (Frontispiece, Page [42])

MARY JANE IN
NEW ENGLAND

BY

CLARA INGRAM JUDSON

AUTHOR OF
"MARY JANE—HER BOOK," "MARY JANE—HER VISIT," "MARY
JANE'S KINDERGARTEN," "MARY JANE DOWN SOUTH,"
"MARY JANE'S CITY HOME."

ILLUSTRATED BY
THELMA GOOCH

GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS NEW YORK

Copyright, 1921
by
GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC.

Mary Jane In New England
All Rights Reserved

Printed in the United States of America

To my brother,
DWIGHT HAROLD INGRAM,
with happy memories of his
commencement week

CONTENTS

[Plans for the Journey]
[A Day of Wetness]
[First Glimpses of Boston]
[An Unexpected Visit at Wellesley]
[Class Day Fun—and Troubles]
[Winning the Game]
[The Adventure by the Lagoon]
[Commencement in the Stadium]
[Fun on the Beach]
[A Day in Plymouth]
[Visiting Cousin Louise]
[The Willow Tree Cottage]
[Lost! One Mary Jane]
[Tea on the Terrace]
[The Last Day in Boston—and Home]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

["Can we ride on them?" asked Mary Jane breathless with excitement] . . . . . . Frontispiece

[She sighed with relief as the offending shoe came off]

["You almost touched it!" exclaimed Mary Jane]

["My dear child! Where were you? We've hunted and hunted!"]

MARY JANE IN NEW ENGLAND

PLANS FOR THE JOURNEY

"Then are we really going?" asked Mary Jane eagerly.

"To Boston and Harvard and Uncle Hal's Class Day and everything?" added Alice.

Mr. and Mrs. Merrill looked at each other and then at the long letter in Mrs. Merrill's hand.

"I do believe we are," said Mrs. Merrill thoughtfully.

"That's right!" approved Mr. Merrill heartily. "You'll never regret it. I am sure the girls are old enough to remember the interesting sights they will see and they may never have another chance to go to Harvard Class Day and all the 'doings' Hal writes about."

"And then," added Mrs. Merrill, "I always promised brother Hal I'd come when he graduated. One doesn't have a 'baby brother' graduate from Harvard every summer. Though I would like it better if you could go too."

"Sure you can't, Dad"? asked Alice, wistfully.

"Certain sure," replied her father. "With all the changes in the office just now I wouldn't think it wise to leave my work for men who are already loaded up. And then, too," he added when he noticed how disappointed the two girls looked, "remember we'll need somebody here to see about the new house—don't you forget that!"

"Of course we travel easily," said Mrs. Merrill, "and Hal promises to look after us so well."

"And makes good by sending that list," said Mr. Merrill. "I never saw the like of the way he has everything lined up for you—you couldn't get lost if you wanted to!"

Alice and Mary Jane Merrill, who with their father and mother had moved from the small town where they had always lived, to the big city of Chicago only a few months before, were having a most interesting time. Not only had they seen city sights, played in the parks and done good work in school; in addition they had made a number of fine friends and, partly through some of these friends, had discovered that they could have an even happier time if Mary Jane had some place to dig, and garden and play out of doors. Girls who live in flats can't very well have gardens—at least at Mary Jane's flat one couldn't. So the Merrills had started exploring and had quite suddenly bought a small piece of land on the edge of one of the outlying suburbs and there they planned to build a little "shack" where they could go every summer and play at being farmers. Such drawing of plans and studying of seed catalogues there never was—the girls found it wonderful fun.

Then, as though going to the country and making a garden was not enough to keep one little girl's head busy, there had come a letter from Mrs. Merrill's brother reminding her of a promise made long ago that she would come to his graduation from Harvard. At first it seemed as though such a trip wouldn't be possible. There was the house in the country to see to—and though it was to be only an unfinished cottage there were a thousand and one details about its building and furnishing that needed attention—the girls were in school and they had planned no summer dresses suitable to the gaieties of commencement week at Cambridge.

But a day or two of careful thinking and planning made Mrs. Merrill decide that they would go. Last year's "best" dresses had been let down and were very pretty; new ginghams for traveling surely would not be hard to make or buy and she loved making the dainty organdy dresses each girl would need for Class Day. The trip wouldn't take long and soon they would be back to attend to the new country home which would hardly have time to miss them.

Alice reached for the list Mr. Merrill had referred to and read what Uncle Hal had written out for them.

"Arrive in Boston Monday morning; Class Day, Tuesday; Baseball, Wednesday (tickets for you all) Commencement, Thursday and if the weather is fine you can all go, for it will be in the Stadium; Friday, sightseeing and anything you want to do." And below was a notation telling them he had had rooms engaged for weeks ahead at the Westminister Hotel, which was a very wise and thoughtful provision for their comfort, as Boston hotels are always more than crowded commencement week.

"It sounds like a lot of fun, Mother," she said happily.

"And are we going to sleep on the train and have hashed brown potatoes in the diner and live at a place by the ocean just like when we went to Florida?" asked Mary Jane.

"It won't be just like in Florida," explained Mr. Merrill, "because Boston is a big city like Chicago, and big cities have different sorts of hotels from any you have been in. But I'll venture to say you will have a good time. And if you stick to Uncle Hal's program you won't have much time for either napping or being homesick!"

"Dear me!" cried Mrs. Merrill suddenly glancing at the clock, "I don't know why we are sitting here all day dreaming! We ought to be making out lists and deciding what to take and do and everything. We're going to be busy people these next two weeks, let me tell you that."

Alice dashed to the desk for pencils and pads.

"Let's make out a list of what we have to do for the new house," said Mrs. Merrill, "and what we have to take and what I have to make or buy. And I can tell you this much," she added a few minutes later when the lists were well under way, "if I'm to do all those things before we go, you two people will have to do a lot of helping."

"Oh, we'd love that!" exclaimed Mary Jane eagerly, "I'd get breakfasts and Alice can wash all the dishes and—"

"What's all this?" demanded Alice as she looked up from the list she was finishing, "I'll get breakfasts, and you can wash dishes and—"

"Let's both do 'em both," corrected Mary Jane, "but I can make toast and cook eggs; I just know I can, mother dear, and I want to help a lot."

"I know you do, dear," said Mrs. Merrill, as she drew the little girl toward her, "and you're going to in just every way you can and will."

So it was decided that the two girls should do every bit of the housework they possibly could and let Mrs. Merrill have lots of time free for sewing and shopping and tending to the new house.

How those two weeks did fly! It really seemed no time at all since the four Merrills were sitting there deciding that they could go to Boston, till the last day had arrived and Mary Jane was having a dress up "try on" of her new organdy dress to be sure it was exactly right before it was packed. How they had all worked! Mary Jane had cooked—toast on the electric toaster and coffee in the kitchen and eggs boiled just as father liked them. And she had taken her turn with Alice at washing dishes and drying dishes and making beds and cleaning the bathroom (Mary Jane liked that the best of anything except cooking eggs with her own three-minute-glass to tell when they were done) and dusting and marketing and pulling out bastings—they had done all those things and more and Mrs. Merrill declared that never, never in the world, could she have finished so much work in two weeks' time if she hadn't had two fine assistants.

"Come here, dear," said Mrs. Merrill as Mary Jane danced off to look in the mirror, "I'll have to tack that bolero—there. Now let's tie the sash and try on the new shoes and be sure everything is just right."

But Mary Jane could hardly stand still. It was so thrilling to try on her first organdy dress—long pink ribbons, a white hat with pink streamers just like Alice's yellow ones and white stockings and brand new pumps, yes, truly, pumps like big folks. She could hardly wait to get everything on, she was so anxious to see herself.

Just as the last bow was adjusted, the bell rang three short taps, father's ring, and Mary Jane, looking all the world like a fairy dropped onto the stairs by some magic mistake, dashed down to greet him.

"Everything fits and it's all just right and don't I look nice and we're waiting for you to bring the trunk up from the basement and Alice has made apple dumplings—green apple dumplings for dinner so you'd better hurry," she finished, breathlessly.

"For that I will," laughed Mr. Merrill, "my! but you do look grown up, pussy!" he added as he looked her over carefully. "Shoes fit all right? Everything has to be just so for Class Day you know, young lady, for folks want to be comfortable as well as beautiful when they go to all day 'doings.'"

"She thinks everything is all right," explained Mrs. Merrill. "You look pleased about something. Is there anything new?"

"Maybe so," said Mr. Merrill so mysteriously that Mary Jane stopped in the hall to listen. "Think you could get off Saturday evening instead of Sunday morning as you had planned?"

Mrs. Merrill thought a second. "Yes, I guess we could," she decided, "it wouldn't make a lot of difference either way. But I thought you had our reservations?"

"Changed them," said Mr. Merrill. "How would you like me to go along as far as Niagara and spend Sunday with you there and then you folks go on east Sunday night?"

"Really, Daddah?" called Mary Jane happily, "then you could eat in the diner with us and sleep and everything!"

"Wouldn't Uncle Hal be flattered," teased Mr. Merrill, "if he knew that you talked more about the diner than you do about Class Day!"

"Oh, I like Class Day too," declared Mary Jane fingering her new sash, "but I'm glad we have to eat on the train to get there."

"For my part I'm glad to eat now," said Mr. Merrill as he sniffed the aroma of Alice's dumplings, "I know I could eat three, so you'd better hurry off with that finery, Mary Jane, if you want your share."

Just twenty-four hours later, the four Merrills boarded the train for Boston. Much to Mary Jane's interest, the conductor didn't call "all aboard!" and there wasn't a bit of excitement at the station. The great train dashed into the residence station where they had decided to board it, hesitated only long enough for the porter to assist the Merrills and their bags onto car 201 and off they went—through the factories and suburbs the girls had seen when they came to Chicago for the first time.

Mary Jane pressed close to the window and was eagerly watching the sight of busy city life she could see on the streets as they flashed by, when a white-coated man walked through the car calling "Second call for dinner! Second call for dinner!"

"Why we missed the first call!" exclaimed Mary Jane in distress.

"Cheer up, pussy," said her father, "that doesn't happen often."

"Well, we won't miss anything more," announced Mary Jane positively, "'cause I washed my hands the last thing and my gloves kept 'em clean."

It didn't take long to tuck gloves into coat pockets, put hats in a safe place and walk to the diner. And here Mary Jane had a dinner such as she loved, with hashed brown potatoes, and salad and ice cream—to say nothing of meat and bread and butter and a big glass of milk in a creamy white tumbler.

"Now tell us what Niagara Falls is going to look like," suggested Alice when they were back in their own car.

"Oh, I couldn't do that," said Mrs. Merrill, "you'll have to wait till morning. As soon as the porter makes up your berth, you can go to sleep and then, when you wake up, you can see it all for yourself—water—rivers of water! The most water you ever saw! That's what it is."

Mary Jane thought of that sentence the next morning when she wakened. She was alone in the lower berth—evidently mother was out and dressed—and she couldn't hear a thing but water. Water dashing against the window, water dripping in through the tiny screen at her feet, water sounding on the roof of the car till she couldn't hear another thing.

"Why, we've stopped right in the Falls," she cried to herself, as she whirled around to look out of the window, "and it's like she said, water, water—everything's water!"

A DAY OF WETNESS

"Alice! Alice! Wake up!"

Mary Jane reached her hand behind the curtain into Alice's berth just ahead and pounded briskly on the cushioned sides.

"Alice! Hurry and wake up 'cause we're stopped and we're right in the middle of Niagara Falls and it's a-falling down!"

Alice stirred drowsily and then, as she realized what her sister was saying, she sat up straight with a start of amazement.

"Why, Mary Jane Merrill, what are you saying?" she asked. "The train doesn't stop at the Falls—it doesn't even go close enough for us to see them from the train. I asked Daddah last evening before I went to sleep."

"Well," said Mary Jane, not in the least disturbed by her sister's doubt, "you just raise your window curtain and look out."

Alice did as she was told and for a minute she was inclined to believe Mary Jane must be right. Water, water, water was all she could see. Water in the air; water dashing against the window; water running off the roof of the car in great streams; grayness and wetness everywhere.

"Looking at the landscape, ladies?" asked Mr. Merrill as he poked his head through the curtains and saw Alice's amazement.

"Morning, Daddah!" whispered Mary Jane as she clambered over from her own berth, "it is the Falls, isn't it? I told Alice we were right in 'em."

"You've reason enough to think so," laughed Mr. Merrill, "but as a matter of fact, you're not quite right. The 'Falls' which you see is rain—common everyday rain."

"I'd never call that common everyday rain," said Alice as an extra hard beating of rain actually made her afraid the window pane wouldn't be enough to keep the water out of the car, "we never have rain like that at home."

"They don't have it like that often, anywhere," said Mrs. Merrill arriving from the dressing room, "and I hate to invite more gloom, but do you happen to recall that this party decided they wouldn't 'bother' with umbrellas?"

"What ever'll we do?" exclaimed Mary Jane with a gasp of horror.

"Swim, like as not," said Mr. Merrill comfortingly. "We might as well, because it's Sunday you know and no store open to buy umbrellas."

"Isn't it lovely!" sighed Mary Jane in a voice of perfect content.

"Lovely!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill.

"How lovely?" asked Alice.

"And she thinks it's 'lovely'!" mimicked Mr. Merrill.

"Well, it is," insisted Mary Jane. "When things look perfectly awful and you're sure they're all wrong, then we always think of something to do different and we have a beautiful time—we always do."

As though to prove her right, at that very minute the porter came along the aisle to Mr. Merrill and said, "There's a taxi man outside at the steps, sir, and he says if you want a cab sir, he can back right up to the steps and the ladies won't even get damp."

"Well, if there is any man living who thinks people won't get 'damp' this morning," said Mr. Merrill laughingly, "I'll engage him on the spot. As a matter of fact though, porter," he added, "the ladies aren't ready yet. Could your man come back in half an hour?"

"He means us when he says 'the ladies,'" whispered Mary Jane joyfully, "'cause mother's all dressed and ready to go."

"Don't you feel sort of grand?" Alice whispered back.

The porter, who of course hadn't heard these asides, promised to have the driver there in thirty minutes, and Alice and Mary began to dress in a rush. You see, the car of folks who were going to get off at Niagara had been dropped from the eastern train and put on a siding so there was no hurry about getting off. That was nice too, for it was much easier to dress when the train was standing still than when it was dashing along through the country.

In less than twenty-five minutes, all the "ladies" of Mr. Merrill's party were dressed and combed and ready to go and, promptly on time, the porter announced the waiting taxi. By that time the rain had abated a trifle though it was still coming down very hard.

"He has backed his car close up to the steps," said the porter, "so the ladies needn't get a bit of wet. Can't I lift the little girl out, sir? And here's an umbrella, sir," he added as he unfurled a huge cotton umbrella at the vestibule door.

Seeing them coming, the driver opened the taxi door and Mrs. Merrill slipped in safe and dry. Then Mr. Merrill helped Alice the same way and the porter set Mary Jane beside them.

"Well, so far so well," said Mr. Merrill as he stepped in after them and the car started off. "That was a clever plan. Now if we only don't get drenched getting into the hotel, we can at least get breakfast, no matter what the weather."

At the hotel they found a wide porte cochère so they were safe and dry there.

"You're going to like this," said Mrs. Merrill, as she looked around the lobby. "There are lots of little shops over there and you girls can look at the souvenir things even if it rains too much for you to see the Falls!"

"But breakfast first, please," suggested Mr. Merrill, "and you can eat all you like for we don't have to hurry to go anywhere."

Breakfast was served in a charming "sun parlor"—which of course was gray and dark because of the rain and mist but was beautiful anyway with the dainty furnishings and gay cretons. The windows that in clear weather looked out on the rushing river a bit above the Falls, showed nothing interesting now. But perhaps that was just as well, for folks don't care much about sightseeing before eating—at least Mary Jane didn't.

A delicious breakfast of fruit and chops and French fried potatoes kept the party so busy that it was with surprise they noticed, three-quarters of an hour later, that the rain had cleared away and that rifts of sunshine were coming through the clouds.

"Why it isn't raining!" exclaimed Mary Jane, "come on, let's hurry up and see everything."

A walk of five minutes and they found themselves standing on a great rock at the edge of the Falls. It was a good thing that Mrs. Merrill was close by Mary Jane, for there was something so vast and powerful and terrifying about the mad rush of those roaring, tumbling waters that even the iron bars around the edge of the rock couldn't quite make a little girl feel safe—it needed the hold of a person's warm hand to make one feel comfortable enough to stand there and watch.

For five minutes or more the four Merrills stood there looking. There wasn't any use trying to talk—the roar of the falling water make words seem fairy whispers that could not be heard by human beings. Mary Jane thought of a number of things she wanted to ask about—the boat, riding so close up to the foot of the Falls; the great bridge over the river so near by, how had men built it there? And the hotel across the Falls, could they go there? But it was not till they had turned away from the rocky observation point and were walking through the park again that she tried to talk.

"That boat down there," replied Mr. Merrill, "is called 'The Maid of the Mist.' Folks who like to do queer things think it's great fun to ride up close to the foot of the Falls, but we had enough water this morning to last us a while, didn't we? We'll take the Falls from the top this trip!"

As though to play a joke on him, at that very minute there was a patter on the trees overhead and pell-mell—down dashed a thousand raindrops. Great, round drops that pounded right through the trees and seemed to shout, "there's more to come, more to come, more to come!"

There was no use staying under a tree and there's no telling what would have happened to hats bought for Boston if Alice hadn't happened to spy a bandstand close by. A hasty dash for its shelter and they were safe—at least for a while.

"If it ever stops again," suggested Mrs. Merrill, "let's go over there and take the trolley that runs across the bridge Mary Jane was asking about, and ride down the gorge."

And of course it did stop in a few minutes and they hurried over and boarded a car. That was the most interesting trolley ride Mary Jane had ever taken or even dreamed of taking. Across the wonderful suspension bridge, along the very tip edge of the high bluff on the Canadian side of the river the car made its way—so close sometimes that Mary Jane held her breath lest it tumble over. Then, several miles down the river, they crossed another bridge and came up the American side. This wasn't so exciting as the banks were not nearly as high, but it was even more interesting, for from her seat in the car Mary Jane could see the rapids where the water dashed over the great jutting rocks and the whirlpool that was so fascinating to watch.

"Oh, let's get out here and wait a while," she cried as the car stopped at a tiny station. "I want to watch that water a-whirling around."

"Good idea, dear," said Mrs. Merrill, and she signaled the conductor that they wished to get off. But as though to make sport of them, the rain clouds which had appeared to be blowing away, opened up again and a shower of rain fell on the car roof.

"No sightseeing for us to-day," laughed Mr. Merrill, "except under cover. I think we'll keep under a roof while we have one handy!"

So they stayed on the car and rode on into the city. But there was a lot to see even from a trolley car and Mary Jane thought she never could forget all the wonderful and curious sights of that trip.

They got off at their hotel and the girls spent a happy two hours looking at the curios in the shop windows and then they had luncheon.

Again the sun tried to come out and the party took a carriage to drive to Goat Island. But just as sure as they attempted to get out of the carriage to have a close view of some sight the driver pointed out to them—just that surely would the pattering drops descend and drive them scurrying to shelter.

At five o'clock they drove to the train that was to take them to Buffalo where father was to put them on the train for Boston.

"I know one thing I'll never forget about Niagara," said Mary Jane as the train pulled out of the station, "and that is that Niagara Falls is awfully wet!"

"And next time we start on a trip," added Mrs. Merrill, "we'll carry umbrellas instead of packing them."

Mr. Merrill waited and had dinner in the Buffalo station with them and then saw them off for Boston before his train for Chicago pulled in.

"Have a good time," he called as their train pulled away, "and remember, I shall want to hear everything about Harvard and Class Day and Boston."

Mary Jane promised to see and remember every single thing, then she turned back to their section which the porter was already making up for the night.

"You don't have to do a thing for me Mother," she said happily. "'Cause I know how to put my shoes in the hammock and take off my hair ribbon and roll it up and everything. And I'm going right straight to sleep so I can wake up early, early in the morning."

"That's a good idea," agreed Mrs. Merrill, "for early, early in the morning we shall be getting into Boston and Uncle Hal will be there to meet us."

FIRST GLIMPSES OF BOSTON

"Like to be brushed?"

Mary Jane turned from the window to see the porter standing by her, brush in hand ready to make her tidy for getting off the train. She looked questioningly at her mother and Mrs. Merrill replied, "Yes, dear, let him brush you off so you will be spick and span when we meet Hal."

So Mary Jane followed the porter down to the end of the aisle where he brushed and brushed till there wasn't a speck of dust on that pretty Peter Thompson suit. Alice and Mrs. Merrill had their turns next, then the porter took their hand baggage down toward the door.

"Do we get there now, Mother?" asked Mary Jane, "right away quick now?"

"We certainly do," answered Mrs. Merrill, "we're there this minute. Come girlies."

As the train came to a stop, Mary Jane looked out of the window in the narrow hallway by the dressing room—she wanted to be sure to get a glimpse of the wonderful Boston she had heard so much about. And at the very first glance, she spied Uncle Hal's smiling face close up outside of her very window. Alice saw him too and they waved and tried to speak and he grinned and motioned to the car door. In a twinkle they were off the train, Uncle Hal had picked up their bags, and they were walking up the stairs to the street.

Of course everybody talked at once, folks always do when they are met at the train, but through it all Mary Jane got the idea that they were walking to the hotel because it was so very, very near, and that Uncle Hal had time to visit with them a while before he went back to college for some last duties before Class Day.

Alice and Uncle Hal walked on ahead talking a blue streak about teams and baseball and all sorts of things that Mary Jane, for her part, didn't find particularly interesting. She was glad to be walking with her mother so she could look and ask all she liked. Five minutes walk and they were in a broad "square" framed on every side by fine looking buildings.

"That's the library I've told you so much about," said Mrs. Merrill nodding her head toward the left, "and this, I think," looking ahead to the right, "is our hotel."

She was right for just then Alice and Uncle Hal turned into the hotel and in a very few minutes they were all seated in the room Hal had engaged for them so many weeks before.

"There now, he's gone and I can look around," said Mary Jane as the door closed behind the boy who had carried up their bags. She slipped down from the big chair where she had primly settled herself and began exploring. One big bed, one little bed, lots of drawers in dressers and cupboards, a lovely white bathroom and, over in the corner of the room overlooking the Square, a desk and several easy chairs pulled together just right for visiting.

"How in the world did you know just exactly the kind of a room I'd like?" asked Mary Jane when she had finished her first tour of exploring.

"Well," said Uncle Hal, much pleased to think she liked it all, "I can't say that I really knew, but I did try pretty hard to guess."

"Now as soon as the trunk comes," continued Mary Jane, "let's unpack it and show him our new dresses. We've new shoes too," she added proudly, "for Class Day you know."

"Fine!" replied her uncle, "I know I'm going to be proud as a peacock of my family when I introduce them around to-morrow. But I'll tell you, Mary Jane," he added persuasively, "I know how slow those expressmen are commencement week and you don't. Suppose we keep the dress for a surprise to me to-morrow and go for a walk now while I have some time."

"I'd like that," agreed Mary Jane, "only what'll they do if the trunk comes while we are walking?"

"They put it in your room all ready for you," said Uncle Hal.

"Then I'm going walking with you," announced Mary Jane.

"And I'm going too," said Alice, "I just can't hardly wait till I see everything."

"And I'm going too," laughed Mrs. Merrill, as she put her hat back on, "because I don't want to miss anything either."

"Aren't we missing something anyway?" asked Alice as they walked from the room.

Mrs. Merrill and Hal looked back into the room.

"No-o," she answered, "I guess not. What did you think we were leaving?"

"I didn't think we were leaving anything," said Alice half laughing, half embarrassed, "but—"

"Oh, I know," announced Mary Jane laughingly, "I'm missing it too. It's breakfast."

"You don't mean to say—" exclaimed Uncle Hal. "That's certainly one on me! You see, I'm so little used to having my family come to see me, and so very glad to see them when they get here, that I actually forgot breakfast. We'll have to get an extra good one to make up for it."

And an extra good one it certainly was; for Mary Jane had strawberries and cream and toast and fish and hashed brown potatoes and a cup of delicious hot cocoa with whipped cream. While they ate, Mary Jane told Uncle Hal more about her Class Day frock.

"It's white, and pink ribbons—lovely long crispy ribbons," she told him, "and new shoes, pumps just like grown-up ladies." Of course Uncle Hal was much impressed as Mary Jane had hoped he would be, but neither he nor Mary Jane herself would ever in the world have guessed the trouble those pretty new pumps were going to make before another day was over!

Breakfast finished, they went for their walk, going through the Square and down as far as the Commons. The city looked fresh and clean, after a rain the night before and the flowers in the Commons nodded their fresh blooms and looked as though they had grown on purpose to make Mary Jane think Boston was beautiful.

"Now then," said Uncle Hal, looking at his watch, "I've just time for a surprise and then I'll have to leave you."

"Couldn't we go along to Harvard with you?" asked Alice.

"Yes, you could," replied Uncle Hal, "want to?"

"'Deed I do," answered Alice heartily, "I don't want to miss anything."

"Then with me you go, for even if I can't stay with you long, you can have the ride out and back. But now for the surprise."

He guided them across a bridge and down a sheltered path to a tiny lake and there riding on the water were several great white swans. No, they weren't swans either. They were much too big for real swans and there were seats on a platform right behind. Boats—that's what they were of course. Boats in the shape of swans!

"Can we ride on them?" asked Mary Jane breathless with excitement, "really ride on them—people can?"

"To be sure people can," laughed Uncle Hal, "and we're going to this very minute."

He bought four tickets while Mary Jane and Alice climbed into the nearest seats and then he and Mrs. Merrill sat just behind them.

"Where's the engineer?" asked Mary Jane.

"Coming," replied Uncle with a chuckle, "there he is, now."

Mary Jane watched an elderly man step aboard the boat and take his place on a queer-looking seat between the wings of the "swan" and much to her surprise he didn't start any engine: instead he began pedaling as if he was riding a bicycle. The swan boat moved away from the pier and, as the man pedaled, they rode with a slow and stately motion out into the little lake.

It was a queer way to ride, being bicycled around a lake in a boat built to look like a swan but Mary Jane loved it. They moved slowly—just like a swan in a fairy tale—and it didn't take Mary Jane a minute to forget all about Boston and the Commons and to fancy that she was a princess in a fairy tale and that the kind swan was drawing her in a magic boat through her country to visit her subjects. She didn't see the flower beds by the side of the tiny lagoon; she didn't see the children playing on the beach; she didn't hear the talk Mrs. Merrill and Uncle Hal were enjoying; she didn't even talk to Alice sitting right by her side. Mary Jane saw only the magic of the fairy tale that was in her mind and enjoyed the thrill of being a princess.

With a slight bump the swan boat touched the dock and Uncle Hal took her hand to help her off.

"Oh, do we have to get off?" she exclaimed in dismay, "we've only just begun to ride!"

"Like it so well?" asked Uncle Hal, "then you shall have a ride every day while you are here. I remember when I was a little kid and came to visit Boston, I liked them a lot. That's why I brought you here first thing this morning. But I guess we'll have to go now if you're going out to Cambridge with me."

Very reluctantly Mary Jane stepped off the boat and with a promise to herself that she would ride again every single time she possibly could, she trudged along behind the others.

A short walk brought them to the entrance of the subway. Of course Mary Jane hadn't an idea what a subway was, for there wasn't any such thing in any city she had ever lived in or visited, but she gathered from what Uncle Hal said that it must be something that took them out to Cambridge. But such a funny something as it was she never would have imagined!

They went down some stairs, through a turnstile and onto a platform. Before Mary Jane's eyes were used to the queer, half-darkness of the platform, and her nose to the funny, dank smell, there was a rumble and a roar and along came a car. They were crowded aboard and again there was a rumble and roar and away they dashed—past red lights and green lights, past platforms and more platforms till in no time at all (or so it seemed to Mary Jane) they were up on a street, dashing across a long bridge, down again in the ground and Uncle Hal saying, "Time to get off! We're at Cambridge!"

They hurried off and up the stairs to the fresh air.

"That's better than the old, slow, surface car," said Uncle Hal as they crossed the street.

"Then the surface car must have been pretty bad," said Mary Jane positively, "'cause this one smells awful and hurries so fast you can't see anything!"

"You're right about those two things," laughed Uncle Hal, "and I suggest that you take a surface car to go back because then you can see all the sights you want to on the way. But of course, Mary Jane, you wanted to ride in a subway once."

"Maybe I did," said Mary Jane, "but I think the swan boats are lots the nicest."

Mrs. Merrill decided that they wouldn't go into the Yard at this time; Hal would be busy and couldn't show them around, and she much preferred that Alice and Mary Jane should get their first impressions of the wonderful university when they could see it right. So Uncle Hal put them on a surface car for Boston and with a promise to dine with them in their hotel, bade them good-by.

"I just don't see why anybody would ever ride in a cellar when they might be riding on a bridge over a lovely river," said Mary Jane as she looked at the Charles gleaming in the warm June sunshine.

"They must be in an awful hurry to get somewhere or those things would never be built," added Alice.

"Well, you know," laughed Mrs. Merrill, "we're in a hurry sometimes ourselves! We're not always ladies of leisure as we are to-day. And you see, it's a long ride back to Boston. What shall we do when we get there, girls?" she added.

"Get lunch," answered Alice promptly.

"Lunch!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill, teasingly, "after all that breakfast?"

"Breakfast!" said Mary Jane, teasing back, "did we have breakfast?"

"All right then, ladies," said Mrs. Merrill, "we'll have lunch. And then how would you like to take an automobile ride that Hal told me about? It doesn't last much over an hour and we can see the old part of Boston, the historic part and also the foreign district your father was telling you about the other day."

"That would be fine, Mother," said Alice eagerly, "don't let's stop long for lunch. Let's just eat something and go—I love to see old places. Remember St. Augustine, Mother?"

"Indeed I do, dear," answered Mrs. Merrill. "Here we are at Copley Square. I have a feeling we had better go to our room first—there might be a message or something. Then we'll get lunch and take the ride."

It was a good thing Mrs. Merrill thought to go to the hotel and inquire for a message, for there was one for them—one that changed all their plans for the afternoon.

AN UNEXPECTED VISIT AT WELLESLEY

Mrs. Merrill turned from the hotel desk and looked in a puzzled way at the slip of yellow paper she held in her hand.

"What do you suppose this means?" she said as she came up to where the two girls were sitting in big chairs waiting for her. "It says, 'Phone Cambridge 2811 at once.' Somebody telephoned five minutes ago, the clerk said, and was very anxious to reach me. Now whatever can have happened? Hal didn't know we were coming back here, so it couldn't be he and we don't know another soul. However," she added briskly, "I needn't be so silly as to stand here wondering when I might go to the 'phone and find out all about it. You stay right here, girlies, and I'll 'phone from the booth over there and we'll solve the mystery."

Mary Jane and Alice could hardly wait, they were so curious and impatient to find out what had happened. They could see Mrs. Merrill talking but she was too far away for them to make out whether she was pleased or distressed by the conversation. In two or three minutes though, she left the booth and came towards them and the girls could tell by the way she was smiling that something very nice and agreeable had happened.

"We're to be up at the station in thirty minutes," she announced, "the station where we came in this morning, and Uncle Hal will meet us and take us out to see Wellesley—what do you think of that?"

"But, Mother," exclaimed Alice, "I thought he had a lot of work to do?"

"He still has," said Mrs. Merrill, "but just after we left him he got a message from one of his friends at Wellesley telling him that the Tree Day dance was to be given this afternoon at the Garden Party, and that when it was first shown it was so very wonderful, we surely must see it."

"And so he told her we were here?" said Alice.

"He didn't have to, she already knew that," said Mrs. Merrill, "and her invitation included us. So just on a chance that we might come to the hotel, he called up and left the message for us. We won't have time to change or anything, but I guess we look all right in traveling clothes. Let's hurry now, so's not to miss the train."

"But where's lunch?" asked Mary Jane in dismay, "I am hungry, truly I am."

"Of course you are, dear," said Mrs. Merrill reassuringly, "and we'll get a bite. Hal said there was a nice little place right on the way to the station and if we go quickly, we'll have time for a sandwich and a glass of milk. Then if that isn't enough, perhaps we can get something later. In fact," and she smiled mysteriously, "I think I wouldn't worry a bit about starving if I were you."

After that Mary Jane didn't bother about being hungry—she was too busy wondering what was going to happen. They got a sandwich, a luscious big chicken sandwich with white meat sticking out all around the edges, and a glass of milk, a great big glass of milk, and that was all there was time for. Even so they barely got down the stairs in time for their train.

The ride out to Wellesley was great fun, for Uncle Hal told them stories all the way—stories of jolly times he had had going over this same route and of fun at Wellesley.

"When I grow up," announced Alice as they got off at the station, "I'm coming to Wellesley and I'm going to know some folks at Harvard and everything just like you've been telling us about."

"And I'm coming here too," said Mary Jane, "I wouldn't go to any place but Wellesley 'cause it's the very nicest."

"A lot you know about it," teased Uncle Hal, "now why is Wellesley the nicest—can you tell that?"

"'Cause it's near to Harvard," said Mary Jane, and of course if she had thought all day, she couldn't have thought up an answer that would better please her Harvard uncle.

"We'll hop onto this trolley and ride to the entrance to save time," said Uncle Hal as he hailed a passing car. They rode a very little way, really not a nickel's worth Mary Jane said, and found themselves at the college entrance.

Of the next hour and a half Mary Jane didn't have a very clear understanding. There was so much to see that a person just couldn't see and remember it all; and so many folks talking that one couldn't hear everything. But she remembered what she could and saved it up to ask her mother about afterward. There were the old-fashioned red brick buildings on the quadrangle and the stately Tower Court where Hal's friend, Miss Elliott, lived, and the beautiful campus with its lovely old trees that cast an inviting shade over the lawns.

"I'm going to study hard and come here to college," said Alice, after they had completed their trip around the grounds, "I think it would be just wonderful to live here for four years! And just think, Mother," she added, "in five years I'll be coming here!" She looked dreamily over the beautiful place and tried to imagine herself one of the girls in gay sport clothes walking under those very trees.

"I'm coming here too," said Mary Jane, "and I'll be here before so very long, won't I, Mother dear?"

"Before we know it, at the rate you girls are now growing," laughed Mrs. Merrill, "and just think of the fun I'm going to have coming here to 'settle my daughters' when they begin college."

Miss Elliott found them excellent seats where they could watch the dancing, and Mary Jane enjoyed sitting and looking at everything quite as much as being shown around. She thought the dancing wonderful and held her breath with the joy of it as the dancers came gayly down the shaded hill, across the open green and back up the hill again when the dance was over.

"I'll have to learn a lot if I'm going to come here and do all that," she whispered to her mother when the dancers were out of sight behind the greenery that made the background.

"No doubt about that, dear," said Mrs. Merrill, "but just think how much you are learning all the time! By the time you are grown-up as those girls are, you'll be sure to know a lot."

"Has Uncle Hal said anything about tea or anything?" whispered Alice as the groups of people broke up and she guessed that the program was over.

As though they suspected what the girls might be thinking of, Miss Elliott and Hal came up at that minute and Uncle Hal said, "I've just been telling Dorothy that we'll take our quarter of a cup of tea and half a wafer that we could get over there, some other time, and she's agreed to let me take you all to the Inn for real tea. Want to go or doesn't food appeal to you?"

"Um-m," said Alice, trying hard to be really grown-up like Miss Elliott, "I think I could eat a little if you insist."

"Here's the insisting then," laughed Uncle Hal, and tucking her arm into his, he started off, passed the administration building and down Freshman Row.

Miss Elliott walked with Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane and pointed out the various houses as they passed them.

"This is where you want to stay your freshman year," she said as they passed a three-story frame building on their left, "lots of nice girls go there and you'll have great larks. But you'll have to put her application in early if you want her to get in there, Mrs. Merrill," she advised, "because it's one of the most popular houses."

"I think I'll put in application for both girls as soon as I can attend to it," said Mrs. Merrill, "for what I have seen of the college in even this one little glimpse, has made me feel that Alice and Mary Jane must go here. I can't imagine a more charming place to spend four years than right here."

Hal and Alice had turned in to a building on the other side of the street so Mary Jane hurried her mother and Miss Elliott that they might catch up.

"He engaged a table by 'phone before he came out," said Miss Elliott, "so we know they'll be looking for us."

"And then they'll have plenty to eat even though there are lots of folks, won't they?" said Mary Jane, much comforted.

Uncle Hal showed them to the table by the window where they could eat and at the same time see everything that might be going on either inside or out.

Mary Jane was a bit curious as to what Uncle Hal might offer her to eat—especially as he didn't ask her what she wanted. But evidently he knew what was good, for when the tray arrived a few minutes later it was piled up with good things.

"I thought you didn't have time to overeat this noon so you might like a hearty tea," he explained as Mrs. Merrill looked with a bit of dismay at the loaded tray. "If you don't want any, sister," he added, "I know some people who can eat more than their share—and I didn't have any lunch myself!"

There were sandwiches—olive sandwiches and lettuce and chicken, all so dainty and pretty that Mary Jane thought she could eat twenty by herself she was that hungry! And tea in dainty gold-rimmed cups, and fudge cake with icing as thick as the cake—almost—and cunning little cakes and candies in paper cases.

Mary Jane watched to see how Miss Elliot fixed her tea and then she took cloves too, just as Miss Elliott did—though it did make a funny taste. Still when one is visiting college one does as college folks do—cream and sugar is all right for home use, but isn't grown-up enough when one is "at college."

After tea, Miss Elliott walked down to the station with them and told them good-by. Mary Jane was sorry that they weren't to see her again but Miss Elliott explained that she would be far too busy with her own college affairs to come to the parties at Harvard.

"What are you thinking about so solemnly?" asked Uncle Hal as they were riding back to Boston, "you haven't said a word for five minutes!"

"I'm thinking 'bout my new shoes," said Mary Jane. "All the girls at Wellesley had white shoes and I've got white shoes—in the trunk. I'm going to wear them to-morrow and you're going to be surprised, you are, Uncle Hal."

"I believe it," laughed Uncle Hal, "I'll wager I'll be proud of my family."

"You won't be, if your family doesn't get back to its room and unpack its trunk pretty soon," said Mrs. Merrill.

"No," she added later, when they got off the train and he started toward their hotel, "you aren't to go a step of the way with us. It's right there in plain sight and we couldn't get lost if we tried. Now hurry back to Cambridge and do your work and don't you dare come to the hotel before seven."

"And we'll unpack and press our dresses and get everything ready for Class Day, won't we Mother?" said Mary Jane, "I think that'll be as much fun as seeing things."

CLASS DAY FUN—AND TROUBLES

"They must be all right," said Alice, as the girls were about through dressing for Class Day the next morning. "You know you tried them on three or four times, the day we bought them, and shoes don't change."

Mary Jane walked up and down the room twice, looking all the while at her left shoe. "Well," very doubtfully, "maybe they are all right now, only they don't feel all right—they don't a bit."

Mrs. Merrill sat down in the nearest chair and looked at Mary Jane in consternation.

"You don't mean to say that now when we are every bit ready to go to Class Day, and there isn't time to hunt up a store, that you think your shoes are wrong! Why, Mary Jane, you know you tried them on and tried them on and were sure they were a perfect fit."

"I know it," said Mary Jane, "and they were all right, only now there's something sticks into my heel every time I take a step."

"Give it to me dear," replied Mrs. Merrill, "and I'll press open the heels more. Maybe they are just a bit stiff. And then I'll put your black pumps in my bag so if these hurt you, you can change."

"But, Mother!" exclaimed Mary Jane, "folks don't wear black shoes to Class Day, not with new organdy dresses and a pink sash!"

"To be sure they don't," agreed Mrs. Merrill, "but black pumps would be vastly better than blistered heels, so we'll take them along to be sure. Are we ready now?" she added and as nobody objected she locked the door and they set out for Cambridge and Class Day.

The first thing on their arrival at Harvard was to see Uncle Hal's room. It was on the first floor in Matthews and was so attractive that Mary Jane thought she would like to stay here all day and just look at things. Off the main room, which was both a living room and study, were two tiny bedrooms, one Uncle Hal's and the other his roommate's. Mary Jane was fascinated by those tiny rooms.

"It's just as I'd like a house," she said to her uncle, "a great big room with banners and pictures and lots of things to look at and a tiny little room all my own to keep house in."

"Do you cook your breakfast there?" asked Alice as she spied a chafing dish in a corner.

"Heavens! No!" laughed Hal, "what do you think we come to Harvard for? To practice cooking? No, that's only for fudge or something—just on state occasions."

"Well, isn't this a state occasion?" asked Alice.

"Um-m, well, yes it is," admitted Hal, as he saw he had cornered himself, "but I'm afraid there isn't time for fudge-making. See, there is the band already and it's almost time to go over to the hall for the exercises."

Mary Jane was quite willing to give up fudge for a band and she stood at the window watching the yard. It was a picture to make any little girl—or big girl either—look long. The yard was gayly decorated with lanterns and streamers, and chairs set about invited folks to be comfortable while they visited or listened to the band. The walks and open spaces were thronged with well-dressed people all eager and happy and having a beautiful time. The frequent sight of a student in cap and gown, or, less often, in the red garb of marshal, made Mary Jane feel as though it was all a great play, and she was thrilled to think that she—Mary Jane—only six years old and living way off in Chicago—was there seeing it all. There were lots of men and lots of women but she hadn't yet seen a single girl as young as herself.

"I must remember every bit of it so's to tell it to Daddah," she said to herself, as a group of students and alumni went by singing, "I must remember it all."

But of course a person couldn't remember it all—for something was happening every minute! The exercises in Sander's Theatre for which, thanks to Uncle Hal's many friends, they all had seats; lunch at the "Dickey," one of Uncle Hal's clubs, and the procession to the Stadium. Much to Mary Jane's amazement, this procession was led by old men—men as old as her grandfather.

"Why, do they go to Harvard, Mother?" she asked as the old men marched by.

"Not now, dear," answered Mrs. Merrill, "they went there years ago—oh, long ago."

"Then what are they in Uncle Hal's Class Day for?" asked Mary Jane.

"They've come back for their re-union," explained Mrs. Merrill. "They come back in three years and ten years and twenty-five years I think it is—you must ask Uncle Hal to be sure, and their class has a regular get-together party. Then of course they come other times, whenever they can."

"They look as though they liked to come back," observed Mary Jane.

"They surely do," agreed Mrs. Merrill.

"I think that's fine," decided Mary Jane, "I should think it would be fun to march and shout and everything like that, after you'd been a grown-up man and had to behave so much."

At the tag-end of the procession, the onlookers fell in line and hurried over to the Stadium where the exercises were held. Mary Jane was thrilled by the sight of the great cement building, open to the blue sky and thronged with happy-looking people.

"I like it, Mother," she whispered as they found their seats, "I like it a lot, 'cause everything's so pretty and it makes you feel so good."

After the exercises were over the crowd scattered to the various club houses for tea. Uncle Hal took his party first to the D.U. house where they met some of his friends, and had lobster salad and sandwiches and cake and ice cream and tea.

"Better not eat too much," he advised as he saw Mary Jane reach for a third sandwich.

"Haven't they made enough?" asked Mary Jane.

"Look at the piles on the table," laughed Uncle Hal, "no, I guess they have enough, but you've just begun. You see, we have to make the rounds of several houses and you have to eat something at every place."

"Don't you worry about us," observed Alice, consolingly, "we can always eat at every place, and every time."

"All right then, go ahead, ladies," laughed Uncle Hal. "Bill, pass the food to my starving family!" And Alice and Mary Jane, both had second helpings all around.

But by the time they had eaten lobster salad and tea and sandwiches and ice cream and cakes at D.U., and tea and lobster salad and sandwiches and ice cream and cakes at the "Dickey," and lobster salad and sandwiches and tea and ice cream and cakes at the "Crimson" house, Mary Jane began to suspect that Uncle Hal's advice about going light at first wasn't so bad after all.

"Do they have the same things because that's all they know how to cook or because they think that's all we like to eat?" asked Mary Jane when she saw her plate filled with the fifth—or was it the sixth, she had lost count—helping of salad.

"You can't prove it by me," laughed Uncle Hal, "I guess it's all just the proper thing to have on Class Day. Don't you like it?"

"Oh, yes," replied Mary Jane, politely, "and I used to like it a lot."

"Maybe you're not really hungry any more," said Uncle Hal with a teasing twinkle in his eye, "if you can stand it not to eat for a while suppose we dance."

He brought up one of his friends, Lawrence Echart, to talk to Mary Jane and danced off with Alice.

"Have you a little sister about my size?" asked Mary of the college man she was left with.

"No, I haven't," he replied.

"I thought not," said Mary Jane.

"Now what made you think that?" asked Hal's friend with real curiosity.

"'Cause you talk to me like I was a real grown-up lady," explained Mary Jane. "When they've got a little sister like me they just bow when Uncle Hal brings 'em up and they say 'what grade are you in in school?' and then before I can answer they start talking to somebody else. But when they haven't any little sister, they talk to me like I was a real grown-up lady—well, anyway, as though I was as big as Alice."

"That's funny," laughed Mr. Echart, "what would you say if I asked you to dance with me—like a real lady?"

"I'd say thank you, yes I will," replied Mary Jane demurely, and much to her partner's surprise she danced off every bit as well as he could.

Now usually Mary Jane loved to dance; she and Alice often danced together and both enjoyed it and did it well. And to-day should have been perfect for the music was good and the floors excellent. But they hadn't taken a dozen steps before sharp twinges of pain shot through her left heel and she felt as though she couldn't stand it another minute.

"Tired?" asked Mr. Echart, as he noticed that something was wrong. "Anything you'd rather do than dance?"

"Yes," replied Mary Jane with a sudden burst of feeling, "I'd rather take off my shoe! Do they have any place where folks take off their shoes on Class Day?"

"Well," said her partner, "I can't say that they prepare for it as a regular part of the program, but it might be done."

"Then let's do it right away," said Mary Jane miserably.

She hobbled down the stairs after her partner and into a small office on the left. There was a great table in the center of the room, and pulled up to it was a huge, comfortable chair.

"How will that do?" asked Mr. Echart.

"Any chair would do," answered Mary Jane, "but that one is lovely!"

"Well, you sit down there, young lady," he added, "and I'll take off that shoe."

"Oh, that feels good," she sighed with relief as the offending shoe came off and she settled back in comfort in the great chair.

She sighed with relief as the offending shoe came off.

"Where did it hurt?" asked Mr. Echart.

"Right there," said Mary Jane, pointing to the back of the heel.

"That's easy," said Mr. Echart, "it's just too stiff and likely as not has made a blister. You just wait till I put in a pad of soft tissue paper and you'll see how much better it will feel."