Mary Jane—Her Visit

THE MYSTERIOUS BUNDLES

For three days after Mary Jane came to visit her grandparents, the sun shone bright and warm and the little girl spent all the time out of doors. She raced around the yard with Bob; she played with the lamb in the wood across the road; she watched her grandfather feed the little pigs; she fed the chickens and hunted eggs. And, the most fun of all, she watched the baby mice in the dusky, sweet-smelling hay loft. Till, really, by the time she had had her supper of bread and milk, Mary Jane was ready to tumble into bed and sleep straight through the night without ever a thought of being homesick.

But the minute she awakened on the morning of the fourth day, Mary Jane knew that something was different. The sun wasn't shining across her coverlet as it had before; and from the window came the sound of dripping, dripping, dripping rain. The kind of rain that you love if everybody's indoors and can stay in and the fire's going brightly and Mother's near to talk to. And also the kind of rain that makes you feel very queer if you know Mother's hundreds of miles away and you aren't going to see her for a good many weeks.

Mary Jane felt a queer feeling in her throat. Suddenly she tossed the covers back, picked up her clothes so quickly she didn't even stop to see if she had both stockings, and ran into her grandmother's room. "I'm not going to cry, so there!" she said to herself hastily.

"Well, good morning," said Grandmother cheerfully. "That's nice to dress in here! I was just wishing I had company."

"Does rain make you feel like you wanted somebody right close?" asked Mary Jane.

"Every time," agreed Grandmother. "And sometimes, when your grandfather's working out in the barn, and Bob's out there with him, and I'm all alone in the house, I just wish and wish I had a little girl about your size here to talk to. I'm so glad you're come, Mary Jane, you're such good company!"

And immediately, would you believe it? Mary Jane forgot all about being homesick and maybe going to cry, and began wondering what she could do for her grandmother!

"What are we going to do to-day, Grandmother?" she asked as they went down the stairs together.

"Let me see," said Grandmother thoughtfully, looking at the little girl. "First, of course, we'll get breakfast—wouldn't you like fresh corn bread and maple syrup?" Mary Jane nodded happily, for she liked Grandmother's corn bread. "Then we'll do the dishes and make the beds—but that won't take long with you helping me. Then we'll peel the potatoes and start the meat cooking for dinner. Then we'll—by the way, Mary Jane," she asked suddenly, "what have you in those two packages in your trunk?"

Mary Jane stared at her grandmother a minute and tried to think whatever she might mean. Then she remembered. "Those two bundles wrapped up in brown paper and tied and everything?"

"Those are the ones," nodded Grandmother. "I saw them the other morning when I unpacked your trunk but we were in a hurry to get-out doors then so I didn't ask about them. What are they?"

"I don't know," said Mary Jane. "Mother put them in and she said you'd understand. She said just let you see and you'd know what she meant."

"Then I guess I know," said Grandmother, laughing. "We have to look at them!"

"Let's go now," said Mary Jane.

"Oh, my no," replied Grandmother, "before breakfast? I should say not! We'll do all the things we planned to do, right straight through the plan. Then we'll get those bundles and see if I can guess what your mother meant."

Mary Jane liked the good breakfast Grandmother prepared and she loved helping set the table and clear it off and help with the work like a grown-up person, but she was glad when at last everything was done and she and Grandmother went up the stairs to look at those mysterious bundles.

"You get the bundles out of your trunk, Mary Jane," said Grandmother, "and I'll get my glasses."

"Then shall we go down' to the sitting-room?" asked Mary Jane.

"No, we'll stay right up here," said Grandmother, smiling, "because unless I miss my guess, we'll want to be up here before we're through anyway."

That puzzled Mary Jane more than ever because, in all the three days she had been there. Grandmother had never sat upstairs, but always in her big rocker at the bay window in the room they called the sitting-room. She hurried to her room, raised the cover of her little trunk and turned it way back so it wouldn't fall on her. Then she reached in and got out the two bundles, and hurried back to Grandmother's room.

"There's some writing on them," she announced.

"Then I expect that will help us guess what we are to do with them," said Grandmother, and she adjusted her glasses. "Let's see what it says." She read off the first one, "'This is the way Mary Jane learns to sew.' Shall we open this first, Mary Jane?" she asked, "or shall we read what the other one says?"

"Oh, I know, I know! I know!" cried Mary Jane, clapping her hands. "I know what that is, Grandmother, only I came away in such a hurry that I forgot all about it! It's a present for you—I made it all myself! Let's open it first."

"A present for me?" asked Grandmother. "I guess we will open it first." And she carefully undid the string, opened out the paper and looked inside. "A picture card! My dear little girl!" she exclaimed, "and you did it all yourself?"

"All myself," said Mary Jane proudly, and she leaned up against her grandmother and pointed out the perfections. "See? It's a picture of a little girl, that's me, and she's raking her garden. And here," she picked up another one, "this is a picture of a butterfly that flies over the garden. I did one of a little girl, that's me, with a pink sunbonnet and one with a sunflower and I sent those to my Aunt Effie. And these are for you."

"I certainly am pleased," said Grandmother heartily and she kissed Mary Jane once for each card. "And what else have we here?"

"That's my sewing things," said Mary Jane as she opened out the rest of the package; "that's my needle case and my thread and my cards to sew."

"Then let's have a sewing day," suggested Grandmother, "and you sew your cards and I'll do my mending."

"But first let's open the other bundle," suggested Mary Jane, who, like Grandmother, had forgotten it for the minute. "I don't know what it's got inside."

"We'll see," said Grandmother, and she read on the outside, "'I wish I had more.'"

"That's funny," said Mary Jane, "more what?"

"Wait and see," replied Grandmother, and Mary Jane noticed that her eyes twinkled. "She needn't have worried, I have plenty." And she undid the bundle.

"Why! Why—how funny!" exclaimed Mary Jane when she saw what the bundle contained. "That isn't anything! Why did Mother send those? They're just scraps."

"Not scraps, dear," said Grandmother, and, much to Mary Jane's surprise, she seemed very pleased, "pieces. They're pieces for a quilt. Your mother always was crazy about my quilts."

"But those aren't quilts," insisted Mary Jane. "Those are just rolls out of the scrap bag—I've seen them there. That's a piece of my rompers," she added, pointing to a roll of blue, "and that's my best pink gingham, and that's Alice's new school dress."

"So much the better," laughed Grandmother. "When you know what things are from, your quilt is more interesting. Let's put these on the bed while you come with me to the linen room and see what a quilt is."

They went down the hall to a queer little room that had shelves from the floor to the ceiling and on every shelf was bedding of some sort. Grandmother took down a quilt from the middle shelf and spread it out on the floor. "There, Mary Jane," she said, "look at that! There's a piece of your mother's first short dress and a piece of her mother's graduating dress—that pink sprigged scrap; and that's your Uncle Tom's shirt waist; and—well, don't you see? There they are; all the 'scraps' as you call them cut into pieces and made into a quilt. I've always promised that your mother should have this some day. I think I'll have to send it to her now if she's raising a girl who don't know what a quilt is!"

Mary Jane got down on her hands and knees and looked at each piece. "Oh, I know now!" she suddenly exclaimed, "I remember! Mother made one for her doll bed when she was a little girl and it had a piece like this with a red horse shoe in it."

"To be sure," said Grandmother much pleased. "Did she show it to you?"

"Yes, only I disremembered for a while," said Mary Jane solemnly. "She showed it to me the day we sewed. She made it when she was a little girl about as old as me, maybe, because they didn't have nice sewing cards then."

"Yes, she made it when she was visiting me, one summer, just as you are here now," said Grandmother thoughtfully.

"Oh, Grandmother," cried Mary Jane suddenly, and she was so excited she sat up straight and tall, "I'll tell you what let's do to-day!"

"Well," said Grandmother, kindly.

"Let's me make a quilt."

"Fine!" said Grandmother, "only you know you can't make it all in one day—it takes a long time to make a quilt, a good quilt."

"Let's begin it then," said Mary Jane, "and let's make it all pretty like this."

"I'll put this away," replied Grandmother, "and then I'll get my piece bag and see what I have that goes well with what your mother sent. Then we'll make a pattern and cut our pieces—you see, there's a lot to quilt-making before the sewing begins."

"Goody!" cried Mary Jane happily, "I know I'm going to like it all!"

And she did.

She liked the hunting out pretty pieces and cutting them out (yes, she did some of that herself, cutting carefully by the little pattern Grandmother made for her) and counting them and pinning them together: four blues with five pink, or four figured with five plain; everything was four and five.

Then, when material was ready for seven blocks, Grandmother said they had done enough cutting for one day. So they gathered up the pinned together blocks and went downstairs to the cozy sitting-room and sewed the rest of the morning. And while they sewed Grandmother told stories about when Mary Jane's mother was a little girl and came to visit.

Right in the middle of a fine story, Grandfather came into the room and asked, "Isn't there going to be any dinner to-day?" And sure enough it was five minutes to twelve o'clock!

Grandmother jumped up and hurried to the kitchen and Grandfather said, "Well, isn't it too bad it's a rainy day?"

"Rainy?" exclaimed Mary Jane, for she'd forgotten all about the rain and her lonesomeness of the early morning. "Rainy? Why, Grandfather! Rainy days are the best days of all when they're days at Grandmother's house!"

GARDENING WITH GRANDFATHER

"This sewing business and feeding chickens and watching mice is all very well," said Grandfather one day, "but I'd like to know where I come in? If it wasn't for having good company at meal time and for about ten minutes after supper in the evening, I'd never guess I had a little granddaughter visiting me—I wouldn't, indeed!"

Mary Jane looked very serious. She wasn't quite certain sure whether Grandfather was really disappointed in her or whether he was only teasing.

Grandmother saw she was puzzled and helped her out by saying, "Very well, Mr. Hodges, then you should find something your little great granddaughter likes to do!" And from the way Grandmother's eyes twinkled, Mary Jane knew that she understood Grandfather was only teasing. And, oh, dear, but she was relieved! It's fine to go visiting; but it's dreadful to be visiting and disappoint folks; and Mary Jane was glad to know she hadn't.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my dear," laughed Grandfather. "I'm finding something."

"Are you really, Grandfather," cried Mary Jane happily. "Let's go do it now! I'm all through my dessert; may I please be excused, Grandmother?" and Mary Jane prepared to slip down from her chair.

"No use," said Grandfather with a shake of his head. "It isn't ready yet."

"Not ready?" echoed Mary Jane. "Does it have to be ready before we do it?"

"It surely does," laughed Grandfather, "That's the reason we haven't done it before."

"But I think I'll like it without being ready," suggested Mary Jane as she went around to his chair. "Let's see if I wouldn't."

"No, sir, you can't tease me that way, Pussy," laughed Grandfather. "You'll have to wait."

"Is it alive?" asked Mary Jane, who by this time was fairly bubbling over with curiosity.

"Well, yes," replied Grandfather and he chuckled to himself in high glee.

"Is it big as me?" asked Mary Jane.

"One way 'tis and another way 'tisn't," said Grandfather.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Mary Jane, "that's the kind I never can guess!" Then she thought carefully for a real good question. "Is it brown or gray?"

Grandfather leaned back and laughed. When he finally could answer he said, "It's partly grayish brown and some day it may be all brown for a' I know."

"Then it isn't a mouse and it isn't a lamb," said Mary Jane positively, "and that's all I can think of now."

"That's a good thing," said Grandmother, "for there's the postman and I surely expect a letter from your mother to-day."

One of the things that Mary Jane most loved to do was to run out front when the rural mail carrier came along in his little wagon and watch him put the mail in the box out in front of her grandfather's house. Usually they spied him way down the road just about the time they were through dinner and Mary Jane would run out and watch him. The first time he saw her he handed the mail out to her and that disappointed her greatly. She had wanted to see him put the mail in the box as Grandfather had told her he would. So on the second day, Grandfather went out with her and explained to the carrier that little girls from the city liked mail that came in boxes better than mail that was just handed in city fashion. And after that, the carrier smiled and nodded to her each time and then tucked the mail as carefully into the box as though he didn't know she would take it out the first minute he was out of sight.

"I'll go down with you," said Grandfather, rising quickly from the table, "because I'm expecting a letter too."

Sure enough! There was a letter for Grandmother that looked very much as though it came from Mary Jane's mother; and a letter for Grandfather that looked to be exactly the same letter! There wasn't a mite of difference so far as Mary Jane could see, except in the one Grandfather said was his, the first word was shorter. And there was a letter for Mary Jane too, the first letter she ever received from her mother.

They all three sat down on the front steps to read. First Mary Jane opened hers and Grandmother helped her read it. "I'm going to learn to read myself," declared Mary Jane, "'cause folks that get letters ought to know how to read them."

"You're right they should," agreed Grandmother, "and I shouldn't wonder a bit but what a certain little girl I know would go to school this fall."

"And that little girl's me?" asked Mary Jane.

"That little girl's you," said Grandmother. "Now listen while I read my letter."

So Mary Jane sat real still and heard Grandmother's letter.

"Now then, Father," said Grandmother as she folded hers up and put it back in the envelope, "we'll hear yours, Grandfather."

"Not right now," said Grandfather, rising suddenly and starting for the barn. "I'm too busy to stop any more." And that was the last they saw of him all afternoon.

"I do think that's the queerest," said Grandmother as she looked after her husband. "He's always so anxious to hear letters and I know he isn't as busy as he makes out. But if he don't want to tell he won't, Mary Jane, so I guess we'd better stop thinking about it."

Mary Jane ran up to her room to put her precious letter away for safe-keeping. Then she and Grandmother tidied up the dinner work and dressed for afternoon. Grandmother didn't have lots of hard work to do, as some farm folks have, for she and Grandfather had long ago stopped doing the hardest work on the farm. They rented out most of their land and kept for themselves only enough garden and chicken yard and pasture to make them feel comfortably busy. So Grandmother had plenty of time for pleasant walks and rides with Mary Jane.

Grandfather seemed to be tired at supper that evening so nothing was said about secrets or letters or anything like that, and he went off to bed about as soon as Mary Jane did.

But the next morning he seemed rested and jolly as ever.

"Do you happen to know any little girl around here who wants to work with me today?" he asked at the breakfast table.

"That's what Daddah says when he wants me to work in my garden," said Mary Jane.

"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Grandfather in great surprise. That was one of his favorite expressions, and Mary Jane had to always stop and think before she could realize that what he meant was, "You do tell me!" "And what do you say to him when he asks you that?"

"I say, 'I know one little girl and that's me,'" replied Mary Jane.

"And what do you say to me?" continued Grandfather.

"I say, 'I know one little girl, and she's right here,'" laughed Mary Jane and she jumped down from the table and gave her grandfather a big bear hug. "What is it we're going to do?"

"Wait and see," said Grandfather.

"Then it's the secret!" exclaimed Mary Jane, dancing around. "It's the secret! I know it is! Grandmother! Let's hurry quick and do our work so we can go."

"You put on your sun hat and go this very minute," exclaimed Grandmother. "You've been such a good little helper—I guess I can get along alone one day."

So in about one minute Mary Jane had her sun hat from upstairs and was going out the back door with her grandfather.

They went out past the tool house and past the chicken yard and up to the garden.

"No, Bob," said Grandfather as Bob tried to push in through the garden gate with them, "we don't need you here. G'on back to the house!" And Bob turned obediently and ran back.

"Isn't he the nicest dog!" explained Mary Jane, as they went along. And then she stopped right short and couldn't say another word. For right there in front of her, just as plain as day as though it had been growing a whole spring, was her own garden! Yes, her very own garden! With the nasturtiums in front and the marigolds next and the young lettuce in the back. Mary Jane could hardly believe her eyes!

"Why—but—how—I thought gardens stayed in one town!" she finally exclaimed.

"They do usually," said Grandfather and his eyes twinkled with pleasure over her surprise, "usually they do."

"But my garden didn't," stammered Mary Jane. "Did it come on a train like I did?"

"No," laughed Grandfather; "guess again."

"It couldn't come any other way," insisted Mary Jane, "'cause I was out here last week with Grandmother to see her lettuce and this wasn't here then and you can't come 'way from my house in one day unless you ride on a train—it's too far."

"That's good thinking for Miss Five-year-old," said Grandfather proudly, "so I guess I'll have to explain. You see, I wrote to your mother and asked her how your garden was at home. And she told me, exactly; she even drew a little picture so I would know just how things were planted. After I got that letter, it was easy to take nasturtiums and marigolds and lettuce from your grandmother's garden and make one for you. She was glad to give you some."

"So that's the reason you wouldn't read Mother's letter yesterday," said Mary Jane.

"That's it," agreed Grandfather.

"And that's the reason you were so tired last night," continued Mary Jane. "You'd been working so hard to 'sprise me."

"Well," admitted Grandfather, "that may have had something to do with it."

"I think I've got the bestest grandfather!" exclaimed Mary Jane suddenly, and she threw her arms around him so hard, oh, ever so hard. "And now do we work here?"

"Not to-day," said Grandfather, "because you couldn't work with my big tools. Tomorrow morning I'll drive into the village and get you a little set of tools just your size like you have at home. This afternoon we'll look around and see if everything's all right in my garden. Then to-morrow we can go to work, as soon as we come home."

Mary Jane took hold of his hand and together they went back into his nice big garden.

"Um-m-m," said Grandfather suddenly as he bent over his carrot bed. "I was afraid so, I was afraid so!"

"What's the matter?" asked Mary Jane who couldn't see that much was wrong.

"See those nibbled off carrots?" asked Grandfather.

Mary Jane looked closely and saw the broken tips.

"We'll have to catch that thief," said Grandfather. "I guess we need Bob after all." Grandfather stuck his finger to his mouth and made a loud whistle. Then he called, "Here Bob! Here Bob! Here Bob!"

Bob came bounding down the garden path, wagging his tail and eager to be of use.

"See that?" demanded Grandfather, pointing to the broken tips.

Bob sniffed and sniffed. He twisted his ears backward and forward and sniffed again. Then he started briskly over to the back of the garden.

"We'll find him!" exclaimed Grandfather. "Come on, Mary Jane! Bob's not much of a hunter but I'll guess that he'll find him and we'll scare him off!"

Mary Jane, who didn't in the least understand who "him" was or what was going to be found or done, trotted along behind her grandfather and Bob eager to see something new.

THE GARDEN THIEF

"What are we doing, Grandfather?" asked Mary Jane as she trotted along behind her grandfather and Bob. "What are we doing and where are we going and who's the thief?"

"No time to talk," called Grandfather over his shoulder. "You'll see! Come along and take hold of my hand."

Mary Jane ran as fast as ever she could till she caught up with her grandfather and got a firm hold of his hand. Then she felt better: for when a little girl doesn't know what is going on, she wants to have hold of something—you know how that is yourself. Bob led them out of the corner of the garden; across the small cornfield back of the barn; across the pasture and into the woods beyond. There he stopped and sniffed in the bushes and through the dead leaves in what Mary Jane thought was the most curious way she had ever seen a dog act.

"Well!" exclaimed Grandfather disgustedly, "if you can't find him any better than that—I'll hunt myself!" And to Mary Jane's amazement, he too, began hunting in the piles of dead leaves where Bob was diligently sniffing.

Suddenly he cried, "Mary Jane! Mary Jane! Come here this minute!"

Mary Jane, who had been standing by a stump where her grandfather left her when he followed Bob into the woods, eagerly ran over to where he stood. He waited quietly till she was clear up to him and then he reached down and lifted up a pile of dead leaves and rubbish.

"Oh, Grandfather!" exclaimed the little girl, "what are they?"

"What do you think they are?" he asked.

"I don't think," replied Mary Jane, "'cause I never saw them before. But they look like the Easter things at the store."

"Right you are!" exclaimed Grandfather much pleased. "They're baby rabbits—and in one of the prettiest little nests I ever found. I'm glad you were along to see."

"Were they what you were hunting, Grandfather?" asked Mary Jane as she half timidly bent over the little bundle of gray and white fur. "They wouldn't steal your garden, would they?"

"No, not those pretty little things," replied Grandfather, "but their father would. Can't say as I blame him though," continued Grandfather, laughing, "with such a family to feed he'd naturally have to get whatever he could. Usually the rabbits don't bother my garden. Well, Pussy, what shall we do with them?"

"Do with them?" asked Mary Jane. "What is there to do?"

Grandfather looked down at the little girl; by this time she was on her knees beside the nest, and bending over the little rabbits as though she'd like to touch them but didn't feel quite well enough acquainted. "Shall we leave them out here or—"

But Mary Jane didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence.

"Oh, Grandfather!" she exclaimed, "could we take them home?"

"I guess we could if you wanted to," he said. "Your mother was always a great hand for pet rabbits and I believe that the very house I once built for her, is up in the loft to this day. Let's cover them over again and go find it."

"Will they stay here while we're gone?" asked Mary Jane as he tenderly laid the leaves back over the little creatures.

"They will till their mother gets a chance to take them away," answered Grandfather. "If she thinks we'll hurt them, she'll carry them to some other hiding place. But if we hurry, we'll get them first."

"Won't she know that we'll take good care of them?" asked Mary Jane.

"She won't know it at first," replied Grandfather, "but she'll soon find out. We'll fix them up in a comfortable box and they'll be as safe and happy and perhaps even better fed than if they'd stayed out here in the woods where stray dogs might hurt them. Come on, now, Pussy; let's hurry for the box."

Mary Jane took hold of his hand again and they hurried back through the pasture and the cornfield to the barn.

It didn't take Grandfather long to find the little rabbit house he had made for Mary Jane's mother years ago. "The box part is good as new," he said, "and I'll get some fresh screening from the attic to cover over this open side."

Mary Jane trotted along beside him up to the mysterious, big attic at the top of the house, where, from a dark corner, he pulled a strip of new wire screen. They took it down to the back porch where he had left the box and in less than half an hour he had the new home all ready for the rabbits.

Of course Grandmother heard them working around and came to see what was going on.

"Oh, the cunningest bunnies, five of them, we found," Mary Jane told her, "little and soft and gray and white just like the Easter bunnies in the store, and we're going to bring them up to your house to live so not any bad dogs will hurt them and so I can feed them."

"Won't that be fun," said Grandmother approvingly, "but how are you going to carry them?"

Mary Jane stared at her grandmother thoughtfully. "Will they go in my hand?"

"Carry five?" asked Grandmother. "I thought you said five. You couldn't get that many in your hand."

"No-o-o, I 'spect I couldn't," said Mary Jane. "How'll I do it?"

"Suppose we fix a basket," suggested Grandmother, "then they would be safe and comfortable while they made the journey."

Mary Jane thought that a wonderful idea and she helped Grandmother hunt up a basket from the storeroom and fold a soft old cloth to line it. By the time they had it all ready, Grandfather had the new home finished and he and Mary Jane set out for the woods to get their new family.

Just before they got to the nest they saw the mother rabbit dart away. Such a pretty little thing she was, all soft gray except her tiny stub of a tail which was snow white. She hurried away so quickly Mary Jane hardly got more than a glance at her before she was out of sight behind a log.

"I'll wager she'll watch us," said Grandfather, chuckling, "and then she'll know where we take her babies. Well, that's all right, Mrs. Rabbit," he added; "you've a right to know where your family is. If you'd made a safer nest, I'd leave them here for you, but as it is, they'll be better off where they're going than where they are."

"But didn't you say they ate the garden?" asked Mary Jane, suddenly remembering what had started them out on their journey.

"Yes, they do a bit," answered Grandfather, "but they mostly let us alone so I guess we won't think any more about the little they stole." While he was talking, he had set the basket on the ground and now he lifted off the rubbish and tenderly took out two little rabbit babies and set them in the basket.

"Why!" exclaimed Mary Jane as she bent over to see, "they's only three bunnies!"

"Sure enough!" agreed Grandfather. "How many did you think there were?"

"I didn't think," said Mary Jane. "I counted them; they had five noses when we saw them before. I know because I can count one, two, three, four, five!"

"You surely can," said Grandfather much puzzled, "then their mother must have taken two away. Like as not she was after another one when she saw us coming. Now cover them up good and warm, Mary Jane," he added as he set the third bunny into the basket, "and we'll hurry off home."

He let her carry the basket every bit of the way, and she was careful, oh, so very careful, not to jiggle the bunnies as she walked.

When they got back to the porch Grandmother came out to watch them put the bunnies onto the nice soft cotton she had fixed in the corner of the box and she showed Mary Jane how to fix water and some freshly picked lettuce for them.

"Now, then," she said, "that's enough for now. Dinner's ready and I guess you're ready for it!"

Mary Jane was hungry enough to be willing to leave the rabbits long enough to eat—but no longer. The minute she had finished she ran out to watch her pets. She sat down on the grass beside the box and watched and watched and watched, but those funny little fellows didn't eat or do anything! They just stayed snuggled up in the soft cotton as tight as ever they could.

"They feel strange and queer, just like you would if some one took you away from your bed," said Grandmother when she came out to see how Mary Jane was getting along. "Why don't you come and take a ride with me and maybe by the time you come home, they'll be better acquainted and will come out and eat."

So Mary Jane reluctantly left her post of watching and went riding. Grandfather surprised them and went along too, and the new gardening tools and a big sun hat were bought and stowed away in the back of the car.

"Let's not stay too long," said Mary Jane, as they turned away from the store; "let's see if the bunnies feel better now."

"I don't believe that child wants to ride a bit," laughed Grandmother. "We might as well go home!" So they turned back the way they had come.

The minute she was out of the car, Mary Jane ran to the rabbit house. Not a rabbit was there! Not one of the pretty bunnies she had left snugged up in the corner!

"Grandfather!" called Mary Jane, "Grandmother! Come quick! They's gone!"

"Think of that!" exclaimed Grandfather as he hurried up to see.

"Poor child! That's too bad!" cried Grandmother sympathetically as she peered into the empty box. "Like as not their mother came after them, though how she got them out I don't quite see."

"I do," laughed Grandfather, and he pointed to a hole in the back of the box. "I guess this wood wasn't as sound as I thought it was! Well, if she wanted them that much, I guess she deserves them! But who'd a thought she'd be so quick!"

"Where are my bunnies?" cried Mary Jane, "where did she take them?" And Grandmother noticed that she was bitterly disappointed.

"Never you mind, pet," said Grandmother, and she put her arm comfortingly around the little girl. "They're not far away, depend on that. But if you want something to feed and take care of, something all your own—I'll get it for you."

"Will you, Grandmother, really truly?"

"Really truly," nodded Grandmother, "and you shall keep it in this pretty little house!"

"Goody!" exclaimed Mary Jane, "and will it be pretty like my Easter rabbits?"

"Every bit as pretty," said Grandmother, "just come with me to see if it isn't!"

And she took hold of Mary Jane's hand and together they went toward the chicken house.

MARY JANE'S FAMILY

"Is it a chicken?" asked Mary Jane as she saw the direction they were taking.

"Bless the child!" exclaimed Grandmother, "she can ask questions the fastest! No, my dear, it isn't a chicken! You'd better wait and see."

"Yes, I'm a-waiting," said Mary Jane with a tiny sigh, "but I hope it isn't very long waiting, 'cause I like to see what I'm going to have." And she skipped along by her grandmother as fast as she could.

Fortunately it wasn't very far to the chicken house, so she hadn't long to wait. They went in at the front of the house; that was no surprise because Mary Jane had been there every day of her visit. She looked around quickly but she didn't see anything new, anything that looked like a surprise. But Grandmother didn't stop there; she went on back through a little door Mary Jane had never noticed, and into a room that was nice and warm and had a big desk in it. Or at least Mary Jane thought it looked like a big desk. And there wasn't anything there that looked like a surprise; Mary Jane would have begun to be worried if she hadn't been so sure Grandmother must know what she was talking about.

"Now, let's see how heavy you are," said Grandmother, "maybe we'll need your Grandfather after all." She put her hands under Mary Jane's arms and tried to lift her up. "I can do it but I can't hold you long enough," she said with a shake of her head, "better run call your grandfather, dear."

"But he's way out in the barn," cried Mary Jane who was fairly dancing with eagerness she was so anxious to see the surprise; "can't I get a chair?" And then she thought how silly that was when of course there wasn't a chair in the chicken house! "Or a box, Grandmother," she added as an after thought.

"A box?" questioned Grandmother, looking around thoughtfully, "oh, yes! I know. There's one right out in that next room. It's not very heavy and I believe you can get it yourself, Mary Jane. Suppose you try."

Mary Jane was very glad to try. She hurried out the door into the other room, spied the box over in the corner and dragged it back into the little room where Grandmother was waiting.

"See, Grandmother?" she said proudly. "I can stand on it."

"So you can, so you can," agreed Grandmother much pleased. "You're a good planner, little girl. Now turn the box on its long side, so; and climb on it; then—"

"What's that noise?" exclaimed Mary Jane suddenly as through the quiet of the little room she heard a queer, "Peep! Peep!" So many "peeps," so soft and low that she was hardly sure she heard them.

"Never mind!" cried Grandmother, who was looking into the big case that Mary Jane had thought was a desk. "Climb up quickly and look!"

Mary Jane needed no second urging. She set the box on its long side and, grasping her grandmother's hand firmly so it wouldn't tip over as she stepped on it, she climbed up and looked into the "desk."

Such a sight as met her eyes! Tiny little chicks! Rows and rows and rows of them! Under the glass cover of that queer looking case.

"They's about a million!" she gasped in amazement, "all in one box!"

"Not a million, dear," laughed Grandmother, "but a good many and they're almost ready to take out."

"But how did they get in?" asked Mary Jane much puzzled.

Grandmother explained that the queer looking "desk" was really an incubator—a box in which eggs were kept warm till the little creature inside each egg was big enough to break the shell and take care of itself.

Mary Jane looked and looked and looked and thought it was the most wonderful of all the many wonders she had seen at Grandmother's. She thought of a dozen questions she wanted to ask, but Grandmother seemed so busy tending to this and that and the other that she decided to wait till some other time to ask them.

"Now, dear," said Grandmother, "you stay here and be deciding which you want for yours while I get your grandfather to help me take them out. I was so in hopes you could see this, pet, because I knew you'd like to."

She bustled out of the room in search of Grandfather, and Mary Jane studied over the rows of chickens. And just at that minute she spied them! She knew the second she saw them that there was her family.

They were huddled down in one corner, all six of them and they seemed lonesome and—well, different. Of course Mary Jane may have imagined that, but so it seemed to her. Their bills were funny and their eyes were different from the eyes of the other chicks, and the shape of their tails and of their wings seemed different, some way.

"I'm going to have you and give you a nice time," said Mary Jane, whispering tenderly above the case cover. "I'd like to take care of you, so don't you mind if you are funny!" And with the tip, tip of her finger, she touched the glass directly over them.

Just then Grandmother Hodges came back into the room with Grandfather right behind her.

"Grandmother!" cried Mary Jane eagerly, "may I have any ones? May I pick them out? May I have these funny little ones? These that are all by their lonesomes in the corner?"

Grandfather and Grandmother both looked to where Mary Jane pointed.

"The ducks!" they exclaimed together. "They came out all right!"

Then Grandmother added, "To be sure you may have them, Mary Jane. Those are ducks, and I put in six eggs so we could have a bit of roast duck, come winter. They'll be sure to get into trouble with the chickens and I would be so glad if you'll make them your family and look after them for me. Here, Father," she said to her husband, "let's take them out for her first." So Grandfather got the basket Mary Jane and her grandmother had brought out with them and then he held up the glass cover while Grandmother tenderly lifted the tiny ducks, one by one, and set them inside. Then she covered them all over with a thick cover.

"But Grandmother," cried Mary Jane in dismay, "they can't breathe! They'll die!"

"Not they," laughed Grandmother. "Run along now, and set the basket in the sun by your rabbit box. I'll be right out and fix them up for you."

So for the second time that day, Mary Jane found herself carrying a basket of living creatures. "Wouldn't Doris like to be here!" she said to herself as she thought of her little friend back home, "and wouldn't I like to show her my family!" She walked slowly and carefully so as not to tip the baby ducks and it was with a sigh of relief that she finally set them down by the rabbit box.

Fortunately, Grandmother came along in just a few minutes so Mary Jane didn't have time to worry about the "peeps" that were coming more and more loudly from the basket.

Grandmother took the ducks one by one from the basket and set them on some soft bits of old wool in the corner of the box. "We don't need a cover for this box," she said, pulling at the screen Grandfather had tacked on, "till they get bigger. We'll take it off so you can take care of them easier. There now!" she added as the screen came off, "we'll cover them up so," and she laid the soft cloth that had been on the basket over the little ducks; "now we'll let them be for a while."

"But we didn't feed them, Grandmother," objected Mary Jane.

"To be sure not," laughed Grandmother. "They don't want anything to eat just yet. Not to-day. All they want is to be warm and cozy."

"Don't they want anything to drink either?" asked Mary Jane.

"No," replied Grandmother, "nothing to drink either. To-morrow you can fix them a drinking dish and I'll show you about their food, but now, we'll just let them be. Listen! What's that?"

Grandmother straightened up and counted the rings of her telephone bell.

"Yes, that's our ring. You take this basket back to your grandfather while I answer it."

But before Mary Jane got out to the chicken house Grandmother was back at the kitchen steps calling, "Father! Father!" And then as she got no answer she called to Mary Jane, "Mary Jane! Tell your grandfather it's long distance and he should come quick!"

Mary Jane hurried in to tell her grandfather the message and then she waited, wonderingly, till he should come back. Had anything happened?