Part 4

“And if that isn’t enough,” he said, with a glance in Mary Jane’s direction, “maybe I can get the little ladies some ice cream when they come back this afternoon.”

Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane agreed to carry the lunch box between them--a block a-piece--because Alice had her camera to look after. They stopped just long enough to buy a new roll of films at the nearest shop and then they set off down the pretty, narrow, old street.

The many palm trees, which Mary Jane insisted on calling “trees with trimming on the top,” the gay poinsettias which bloomed everywhere and the crimson and yellow blossoms on the vines which covered porches and hedges made the street look very beautiful. Mary Jane had to pinch herself two or three times again to make sure that she really was awake! She simply couldn’t realize that up at home her playmates were making snow forts and going to school.

“I think it’s funny,” said Alice thoughtfully, “why folks stay up north at all in the winter. Why doesn’t everybody move south when it gets cold and then go back home in the spring?”

“Sounds sensible,” laughed Mrs. Merrill, “and really very bird-like. But just think of all you’d miss! Snow at Christmas time, skating, you know how you love to skate, and coasting and fireside fun--oh, you’d miss a lot!”

“I guess I would,” admitted Alice, “but I do love the flowers! Wait a minute, Mother,” she added; “I want to get a picture of that vine. See how it covers the house?” Mary Jane had gone on a few steps ahead, but Mrs. Merrill, feeling sure the little girl was safe on that quiet street, waited till Alice took the picture. But when they walked on Mary Jane was not to be seen. Had she turned the corner? No, for Mrs. Merrill hurried to look and no girl was in sight. Had she gone into one of the gardens? Surely not, for Mary Jane would never think of going into any one’s yard without an invitation. Alice shut up her camera and hurriedly began to help hunt. Mrs. Merrill was just beginning to feel a little anxious when she heard Mary Jane’s voice, close by, just inside the hedge, say, “But please, first I have to tell my mother.” Mrs. Merrill dashed into the yard, Alice close behind her, and both stood as though petrified with amazement.

At the foot of the steps leading from the house stood a woman dressed in the gorgeous long robes worn in Spain long years ago. By her side stood a Spanish courtier of olden days, apparently just about to kneel and kiss her hand. And, most astonishing of all, just back of the lady stood Mary Jane, her eyes round with excitement and delight.

“Mary Jane!” cried Mrs. Merrill, “what are you doing? Where are you? How did you come in here?”

“Through the gate just like you did, Mother,” replied Mary Jane, answering the last question first, “and I came because he asked me to, he did.” And she pointed her finger at a man who stood at Mrs. Merrill’s left.

“The little girl is right,” said the man as he stepped up to Mrs. Merrill, “and I must ask your pardon for the fright we seem to have caused you. But I do beg of you to let us borrow your daughter for about five minutes more--we have such need of her.”

Mrs. Merrill looked around the yard and saw what she had been too excited before to notice. In the front of the yard, close by the hedge, was a moving picture camera, and by it two men working under the director who was speaking to her.

“Let me explain,” continued the man. “We are making a picture supposably taken in Spain--not a hard thing to imagine with all these Spanish houses and gardens around here,--and this lady is supposed to be a queen. But at the last minute, just as we were ready to run the picture through, the lady” (and he pointed to the courtly dressed woman by the steps) “wanted some ladies or children-in-waiting to carry her train. We have the robes but not the people here and I have to get the picture done to-day. That explains why, when I looked out of the garden and saw your daughter I ventured to borrow her a minute. If we may use her long enough to throw a robe over her and get the picture of the queen so attended walking down the walk, I’ll be very glad.”

Mrs. Merrill was just about to refuse for she had no desire to have Mary Jane in a movie, when Alice nudged her and whispered, “Mother! Couldn’t I be in it too?”

The director noticed the whisper and guessed what she was saying. “We’d like to have this little girl too,” he said; “we have plenty of clothes for two and I’m sure if one train bearer is good, two will be better--isn’t that so, Miss Arlson?”

The pretty lady in the queen’s robe nodded and smiled and said she must have two maids, so the director hurried away to get the costumes. In a jiffy he was back and with two or three deft touches he tossed a robe over each girl, covered Mary Jane’s bobbed hair and Alice’s braids with lace head-dresses and showed them where to stand behind the queen.

Then with a hurried “click, click, click, click, click, click!” the picture was taken and every one began to move about and talk. The girls almost hated to give up their pretty costumes and Mary Jane remarked as the director took hers off, “Those would make awfully nice ‘dress-up clothes’ I think!”

“Do you like to play dress-up?” asked the man.

“’Deed we do!” exclaimed Mary Jane heartily; “we like it most the best of anything!”

“Then you take these head-dresses you wore and keep them with my compliments,” he said, and that is how it happened that two fine and interesting bits of Spanish lace were taken home from the southern trip.

“Mother!” exclaimed Alice when they were out on the street again, “did you ever hear of such fun? And to think it happened to _us_!”

“Being in a movie!” cried Mary Jane, “and riding a pony and swimming in a house--why just everything’s happening to us! If Dadah doesn’t come with us pretty soon there won’t be anything left in the world to do.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” laughed Mrs. Merrill; “I know two or three things left in the world to do. And it wouldn’t surprise me a bit if you’d do them some day. But the thing we’re doing right now, is seeing the oldest house in the United States. Alice, will you pound the knocker?”

They stopped short and there, sure enough, they had come to the queer, old house they had set out to see. Alice stepped up on the doorsill and awesomely pounded at the brass knocker. A pleasant faced old lady opened the door and peered out at them.

“Why, don’t I know you?” she asked as she spied Mrs. Merrill.

“I hoped you’d remember,” replied Mrs. Merrill, “though I don’t see how you do when you see so many folks every year. And I hoped you’d let my girls and me eat lunch by the old well as I did years ago.”

“Indeed I will that,” said the old lady cordially, “and they may pick flowers in my garden, too, though that’s something very few folks are allowed to do. But first they want to see the house.”

She took them all over the house, up stairs and down, and such a lot of quaint, queer old things the girls had never seen. Candle sticks hundreds of years old, cradles, dishes, andirons, pitchers, dresses, chairs, sewing baskets, spinning wheels, looms, knitting racks, tables, rugs--everything that one could think of as interesting and old seemed to be crowded into that one small house. Mary Jane looked and looked and looked till everything she saw seemed a confusion of queer old things.

“I think I’d better stop looking, Mother,” she said finally, “’cause the looks get all mixed up in my head.”

“You’re right, Mary Jane,” said Mrs. Merrill sympathetically, “I’m getting tired looking myself. Let’s go out into the garden and eat our luncheon.”

Nobody, looking at the outside of the house, would have even guessed of the lovely garden behind the wall. There was an old well with its windlass and sweep, several gnarled old trees and shrubs and bushes and flowers in every corner. The little old lady was persuaded to come out into the sunshine and share the luncheon with them and she told them, while they ate, tales of the many famous folks who had visited this very same garden and picnicked by this very same well.

Then, after they had finished eating, she showed Mary Jane how folks, years ago, used to draw water from that same old well.

“I think it’s lots more fun to get water out of a well this way than to turn on a faucet,” said Mary Jane as she tried the windlass herself and drew up a brimming bucket.

“But what would you think,” asked Mrs. Merrill, “of getting up early in the morning and coming out to draw the water for your bath?”

“Well,” said Mary Jane doubtfully, “I’d think that would be different.”

“I guess it would be,” laughed Alice, “I know I’d think so!”

“Now I must get back to my work,” said the little lady. “But make yourselves at home here. And remember, the girls may pick flowers if they wish.” And she went back into the house.

Alice was happy at the chance to pick a few flowers as she had wanted to make a collection of pressed flowers that would include every variety they saw on their trip. And in this one garden she found a sample of every single sort she had seen thus far and two or three new kinds besides. She took pictures of the garden and of Mary Jane at the well and then it was time to go.

As they walked back under the palm trees to the hotel Mary Jane said, “I think I’d like to live in this place all winter.”

“I’d like that myself,” said Mrs. Merrill, “but we can’t. To-morrow morning, bright and early, we’ll be going on. And if you ask me, I’ll tell you that there’s even more fun at the next place we go to--think of that!”

A DAY ON THE BEACH

It was with great reluctance that Alice and Mary Jane accompanied their mother into the bus that was to drive them to the station the next morning. They had had so much fun in the three full days they had spent at dear old St. Augustine that it simply didn’t seem possible there _could_ be as good a time waiting any place else. It was a comfort though, to know that they might stop a day or two more at the old Spanish city on their way home. Mrs. Merrill was trying to plan it that way in the hope that Mr. Merrill could meet them there and have some of the fun with them. And that was the reason why they had saved the old fort till the next visit; Mrs. Merrill felt sure that Mr. Merrill could show the girls the wonders and traditions of the old place better than she could.

As the train sped southward through forests and fields Mary Jane forgot all about being sorry to leave St. Augustine and began to make plans for the new visit.

“What’s the name of the place we’re going to next, Mother,” she asked as they settled themselves cosily on the big observation platform, “and what we going to do when we get there?”

“We’re going to Daytona now, dear,” replied Mrs. Merrill, “and if this fine weather keeps up you’ll have a chance to swim in the really truly ocean to-morrow.”

“Couldn’t we do it to-day?” asked Alice who loved swimming.

“Not very well,” answered her mother. “You see, Daytona isn’t on the ocean. It’s on a river that runs in from the ocean--I call it a river though it really is more of a long, slim bay. The beach where you’ll go swimming is a long way from the hotel where we will stop and to-day I think we’d better get a bit acquainted with Daytona. You’ll like it I know.”

And Mary Jane did like it very much. She liked it from the first minute she stepped from the train into the bus that was waiting to take them to the small hotel where rooms were reserved for them. She loved the broad, modern streets--so different from the narrow foreign looking ones that had charmed them at St. Augustine, she loved the many, many beautiful flower beds and the great trees that made the streets look like huge caves of green.

The bus was a bit crowded so the girls sat up on the driver’s seat which they thought was a real lark. This driver was a nice northern boy of eighteen who by some chance had obtained the job of driving the bus for the winter. He told the girls that he had two sisters at home just their ages and that he wished they would ride on the bus with him that afternoon because he got so homesick for his sisters.

After they had their luncheon Alice asked her mother if they could ride. She explained all about what the boy had told them, of course, and said that he had promised they could see the whole of Daytona--every bit--if they went with him that afternoon, because his errands were so scattered. Mrs. Merrill talked with friends who had been some days at the hotel and all spoke so well of the driver that Mrs. Merrill gave her consent. And a very proud and gay pair of little girls perched up on the front seat and drove away about two o’clock.

“Be very careful, girlies,” said Mrs. Merrill, as the engine began to hum; “you know I’ll be right here if you want anything. And Mary Jane, you must do what Alice says for she’s always so good to you. Have a fine time!”

Tom surely did take them all over the town. They went down south first, out into the edge of the country, where they got a man who was to take a two-thirty train. Then they went north to take some folks who came on the same train that took the man away. Then they went east across one of the long bridges and then north and home over another one. Mary Jane liked those bridges. They were so nice and low and long. But that wasn’t all. They were toll bridges and each time an auto went across the driver had to stop at the toll office and pay for the privilege of driving across. Mary Jane had never heard of such a thing before and she thought it awfully funny to pay to ride across a bridge.

By half past four, when Tom brought the girls back, they were old friends; they’d told him all about their trip so far and about their plans for swimming to-morrow. And they really felt very well acquainted with Daytona they had ridden around so much of it.

Bright and early the next morning the Merrills three were up and making ready for the trip to the beach. Mrs. Merrill planned to get their luncheon at the Casino by the bathing beach so there was little to attend to after breakfast. Bathing suits were tucked into a rubber bag and then, as soon as the postman had come with the morning mail, they set out for the beach. The girls were sure they could walk to the beach; it was only about two miles and they wanted to show their mother some of the sights they had seen the day before. And really, with seeing the great palm trees along the river and looking in the shop windows along Main Street and counting the planks on the bridge--Mary Jane was determined to count every board--the walk seemed no distance at all.

It was just about eleven when they reached the bath house and the crowd was already assembling. Such a jolly crowd it was too, very happy, and gay, and full of fun. There were no high waves that day; just nice low ones, actually made for girls who were not used to the big ocean, and Mary Jane and Alice could hardly wait till they got into the water. It wasn’t cold at all--of course it wouldn’t be in that fine, warm sun, and they could safely wade and swim and play on the sand for an hour or more.

After the girls and Mrs. Merrill had been in the water till they were a bit tired, they sat down on the beach, near the water’s edge, to rest awhile. Suddenly Mary Jane screamed. “Ugh! Mother! Look! See that funny bug!”

“Pooh!” exclaimed Alice laughingly, “it isn’t a bug! It’s a crawdad!”

“But look,” cried Mary Jane; “he’s gone!”

To be sure! Even as Mary Jane was watching him, the queer little crawdad had quickly dug himself a hole in the ground and hidden down in it.

“It’s like magic!” cried Mary Jane; “look! There goes another one!”

“Mary Jane, I’ll tell you what let’s us do!” exclaimed Alice, “let’s find crawdads on the beach and then watch ’em dig in.”

“What’ll we put ’em in when we find ’em?” asked Mary Jane excitedly.

“Oh,” Alice hesitated and looked around, “I know. Put them in here.” She whisked off her rubber bathing cap and made it into a bag shape and ran down nearer the water to find the tiny crabs.

It wasn’t hard to do. Each wave that rolled upon the beach left two or three of the queer little creatures, but one had to grab very quickly for the instant the water receded and left them stranded on the sand, they began to dig themselves in. Mary Jane grabbed at the sand and as fast as she caught a crab she dropped it into Alice’s cap.

“Don’t they make your hands feel funny?” she asked as she held one a second more than she needed to. “I don’t know if I like them and I don’t know if I don’t.”

“Ugh!” exclaimed Alice. “I know I don’t like to hold them but I do like to watch them dig. Come on, sis, we’ve a lot. Let’s go back to mother and let ’em hide.”

They raced back to where Mrs. Merrill had been sitting and dumped their trophies on the sand one at a time. And it really was funny to see those wiggling little crawdads squirm themselves out of sight in the sand in such a jiffy! Just a wiggle, wiggle, wiggle and they were gone--the sand closed up over them as though they had never been there. Mary Jane tried to poke her finger down into the sand and dig them up; but the crawdads were too smart for her and not a one did she find!

“Why don’t you collect some shells to take home,” suggested Mrs. Merrill after awhile; “there are many pretty kinds here.”

“I know it, Mother,” answered Alice, “and I was just going to ask you if we could take any home when Mary Jane found these crawdads. Let’s start now.”

But just at that minute the whistle on the bath house blew for one o’clock--the girls hadn’t guessed it was nearly that late and of course the minute they knew the time they were starving hungry.

“Then let’s take one more dip to get the sand off,” suggested Mrs. Merrill, “before we dress and have lunch. And while our suits dry, you may collect all the shells you are willing to carry.”

Down into the water they ran and just in time too for when they heard a noise they looked up from the water and there, coming quickly to the earth, was a great aeroplane that landed right at the very spot where they had been sitting.

“I do think this is the excitingest beach,” said Mary Jane in an awestruck voice; “first there’s the ocean and then there’s crawdads and then an airship. What do you suppose they’ll have next?”

“Lunch, I hope,” said Alice laughingly, “and I’ll beat you to the bath house to dress for it.”

Later when they had had their good luncheon and were sitting on the veranda of the Casino where they could watch the airship take on a passenger and sail away toward the north for a long flight, Mary Jane remembered about the shells.

“Of course we want to get some,” said Alice; “let’s go now.”

“You girls start while I see about the bath locker,” suggested Mrs. Merrill. “Maybe we can arrange to leave our things here till we come again; then we could carry more shells.”

When she got down to the beach a little later she found that the girls had already collected a great pile of shells from the many there were to be found on the beach.

“You wouldn’t want to take any but perfect ones home, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Merrill; “suppose we spread every shell out where it can be seen. Then we’ll throw all the ones that are not perfect back into the ocean. The others we’ll take home.”

Alice and Mary Jane set to work examining the shells and they found that in their eagerness for collecting they had picked up a good many that were not worth carrying home. So it was quite a respectable sized pile they finally decided they wanted to take.

“There,” said Mary Jane with a sigh of content, when the sorting was finished, “there they are and if it wasn’t ten miles home, I’d be glad we had them.”

“You’ll be glad anyway, dear,” said Mrs. Merrill, “because we’re going to ride home. I ordered a taxi when I was up at the bath house. Here it comes now.”

And sure enough! There it was coming right down by the water to meet them. Mary Jane was sure the wheels would get stuck in the sand; but they didn’t; they didn’t even sink in. They just acted as though that beach was a regular road--which it wasn’t.

It seemed fine to spin home over the beach, across the bridge and down the river street, and by the time home was reached Mary Jane was rested enough to play again. That was a good thing for who should she see on the hotel porch but Ellen, her little friend from St. Augustine.

“Why, Ellen!” she exclaimed as she ran from the taxi to greet her; “how did you get here?”

“On the train and the bus,” said Ellen happily. “And mother’s here too.”

“We came down unexpectedly for two days,” explained Mrs. Berry, “because I found that a dear old friend of mine was here. Can’t we all plan a picnic for to-morrow?” she added. “The girls will like it and I know a beautiful place to go--way down the beach and back into the woods.”

“Oh, goody! Let’s!” exclaimed Mary Jane, dancing happily; “let’s have a picnic or something every day.”

“Seems to me that’s about what you are doing,” laughed Mrs. Merrill, “but I’m ready for more fun.” While the mothers planned the party, the three girls went off to find some fun of their own and to talk of what they would do at the picnic.

AT SEA IN A STORM

There seemed to be a great mystery about that picnic. Mrs. Merrill and Mrs. Berry wouldn’t let the girls help with the baskets and even kind Mrs. Trudy, the hostess at the hotel, merely smiled and put her finger to her lips when the girls asked her what was going on.

“I think we ought to see what they’re taking to eat,” said Ellen as she hung on to the porch railing out in front; “maybe we won’t like it.”

“No danger,” said Alice positively; “mother’s there and she always makes nice lunches.”

“But we ought to see it,” insisted Ellen. “I tell you what let’s do. There’s a window in Aunt Sue’s room” (Aunt Sue was Mrs. Berry’s friend) “that opens onto a roof, a low roof just by the kitchen. I know ’cause we had that room ourselves last year. Let’s climb out the window and peep down into the kitchen.”

“I don’t know if mother’d like us to peek,” replied Mary Jane doubtfully, “but we might climb out on the roof and see if we _could_ peek. And then when we saw if we could we could decide about doing it.”

“Anyway let’s go,” said Ellen, who had no particular scruples about peeking. So they ran up stairs and climbed out of Aunt Sue’s window and sure enough, they could look right down into the kitchen without half trying. They saw Mrs. Merrill standing by a table and Mrs. Berry bending over a basket on a chair, but before they really had time to see what each was doing, Tom came out the kitchen door.

“Say, girls,” he called, “want a ride? I have to go up to the store for paper napkins and your mothers say you may go along.”

“Oh, dear,” said Alice who, being the oldest felt responsible for letting the girls come out on the roof, “but we’re not down ready to go.”

“You will be in a minute,” said Tom laughingly; “watch me.” He went over to the orange tree near by, picked up the ladder that leaned against it and set the ladder up to the side of the house. “There you are, young ladies,” he said proudly; “walk right down!”

“Ugh!” cried Ellen, “I’m scared to.”

“No you’re not,” answered Alice; “it’s fun to climb ladders. Here, let me go first and then I turn around and hold your hand and you won’t be scared a bit.”

Nor was she, for Alice showed her how to go down backwards so she could look up all the time and Ellen thought it so much fun that she wanted to climb up again just for the fun of coming down.

“Not to-day,” said Tom, “for we have to be off. You help Mary Jane, Alice, while I get out the bus. They wanted us to hurry back with the napkins, you know, because they’re almost through packing the picnic basket.”