Part 7

Mary Jane laughed at the idea of a train stopping to talk about the weather. “What’s it saying now?” she asked and she sat up straight and looked out of the window. Such a sight! “Yumy yum, yum!” she cried eagerly. “Mother, may we have some too?”

Mrs. Merrill and Alice had been watching out the window while Mary Jane had been thinking and resting so they knew just what she meant. On either side of the train, stretching as far as a person could see, were rows and rows and rows of--strawberries. Strawberries so big and red and ripe and luscious that they could be seen--those on the nearest vines of course--from the train window. And all the strawberry plants near and far showed signs of being loaded with fruit. Over the rows bent the pickers, busily working, and here and there were groups of workers sorting and packing the berries into boxes and crates ready for shipping.

“Oh, Mother!” exclaimed Mary Jane, “I’ll bet they’re taking them onto our train! I just know they are.”

“To be sure!” agreed Mrs. Merrill, “that’s the reason we stop so often. This is the strawberry and lettuce country and every time we stop we take on piles of express that will go to hungry folks up north. Now you know how we get our early lettuce and berries and what sort of a place it comes from.”

“Yes, I know it,” said Mary Jane, “but couldn’t we eat some now.”

“Yes, Mother, couldn’t we?” urged Alice, “just look at those berries!” she added as a team of horses pulled a great wagon by their window--a wagon piled high with crates of strawberries, as they could tell by the glimpses of red fruit inside.

Just then a little negro boy came by their window peddling berries and Mrs. Merrill was able to buy a box of berries for the girls--berries so clean and sweet and ripe that they could be eaten at once without a thought of washing or of sugar.

As the train pulled up for another stop some fifteen minutes later, the Pullman conductor came into their car and spoke to Mrs. Merrill.

“There’s something at this stop that your girls may enjoy seeing,” he said, “and if you will allow me to escort you--”

“Something my girls should see?” questioned Mrs. Merrill in surprise.

“You see, madam,” explained the man, “the cook on the diner we carry has made friends with the pigs on the way and he always likes the children aboard the train to see the fun.”

“Sounds like Greek to me,” said Mrs. Merrill still more puzzled, “but if there is something my girls should see, let’s see it--we don’t want to miss anything!” And taking Mary Jane’s hand and motioning Alice to come too, she followed the conductor through the train.

They went through two cars, then, as the train was just jerking to a stop, the man quickly pulled open the vestibule door and hurried them down the steps to the ground. Ahead of them--just the next car--was the diner. At the high door of the kitchen end of the diner stood a grinning negro. He was dressed all in spotless white and his face fairly shone with joy. In his hands he held a great bucket which was poised as though he was about to empty it out of the door.

“Here you be, missies!” he shouted, grinning and nodding to the children; “now you jes’ watch--here she comes! Here she comes! Betta watch out her way!”

Just at that instant Mrs. Merrill heard a great grunting behind them and dodged out of the way of a great hog who, grunting and sniffing and puffing, was rooting her way along the side of the train.

“She knows me!” shouted the cook from his doorway; “now you jes’ watch!”

No need to tell folks to watch! With that great creature grunting near (though the girls did notice that she seemed tame enough) nobody wanted to look at anything else! The hog sniffed along till she found the dining car door; then, with a snort of satisfaction, she raised up on her hind legs, forelegs braced against the train and--yes, the girls could hardly believe it!--ate out of the bucket the cook held for her.

For a few minutes no one said a word, but as the hog’s hunger was partly satisfied the cook jumped down from the car door, the hog dropping down just at the same time and following him, and set the bucket on the ground. In an instant pigs came running from here and there and there was a wild scramble around that bucket!

“He’s trained them--that cook has,” explained the conductor as a whistle from the engine sent them all hurrying back into the train. “We pass here every other day at just this same time and that old cook--he’s just as regular with his bucket of scraps as the road is running the train! And I’ll declare it does seem to me those pigs are the smartest about knowing which is the dining car! They don’t miss it. And that one old hog, he’s got her trained to climb up to the door every time! Who’s ever heard of a cook like that? And he always wants the children on the train to see it--that cook does!”

“Don’t they do the queerest things in Florida!” exclaimed Mary Jane as she settled back into her seat and picked up her box of strawberries again. “First there were orstriches and alligators--’member how they slid down that shoot, Alice?”

“Do I?” cried Alice, laughing at the recollection; “and remember the jelly fish and the crawdads, Mary Jane?” Mary Jane giggled.

“But who would ever have thought of pigs eating from the dining car?” continued Alice.

The ride that afternoon seemed long and the girls had almost tired of drawing pictures and counting stops and talking of the sights they had seen when the twilight brought the porter to light the lamps and the dining car man shouting, “First call for dinner! Dinner in the dining car!”

They were due to get into Jacksonville at seven, but Mrs. Merrill thought as the train was already a little late it would be better for the girls to eat a leisurely dinner on board so that the evening would be free for visiting with their father. So they strolled into the diner and ate chicken (and of _course_ hashed brown potatoes!) and the very best strawberry shortcake they had ever tasted.

When the train pulled into Jacksonville at eight o’clock Mr. Merrill was nearly smothered with embraces and with a whirlwind of tales about all they had seen and done. The pretty little station was cleaned and garnished; flowerbeds had been put in order and looked very lovely under the glow of the brilliant lights and there was nothing to mar their happy reunion.

Mr. Merrill’s business was finished that very afternoon and he was free to spend a day in any way the girls liked. Then the next day, they would start back home.

“Dear me!” exclaimed Alice in dismay, “only one day?”

“That’s the wrong way to say it,” said her father; “say all of one day--that sounds a lot more. Now where shall we spend it?”

“Oh, let’s go to St. Augustine,” said Mary Jane eagerly; “where is it?” And she looked around the streets of Jacksonville as though she expected to find it there.

“Oh! let’s go to bed first,” mimicked her father laughingly. “You remember you have to ride on the train an hour or more before you get to St. Augustine. Let’s go to bed to-night and then take the first train down to St. Augustine in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Pretty fine!” replied Mary Jane with a little skip of joy.

“But Dadah,” objected Alice, “I feel so celebrating this evening--having you with us and all that! I wish there was something we could do now.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” answered Mr. Merrill, “I feel that same way myself. Let’s get into this taxi,” he suggested as he hailed a passing car, “and ride up to the ‘square’ and get some ice cream and buy a lot of picture post cards for folks back home.”

The “square” was gay enough to suit even Alice. The lights glowed brilliantly among the palms and bright flowers; the band was playing in a stand nearby and the streets on the four sides were filled with people strolling along or making purchases at the many little shops. The Merrills were happy to find just the sorts of cards they wanted to take home. They bought a whole set--pictures of every place they had been--for Alice and another whole set for Mary Jane to keep.

“I wish I had some to take to my kindergarten, I do,” said Mary Jane as she proudly slipped her set into her own little hand bag; “I’d like to take one picture to each person there.”

“How many are there in your room?” asked Mr. Merrill.

“Let me see,” said Mary Jane, counting out the classes, “there’s ten, and nine, and fifteen, and teachers and--how many is that, Dadah?”

“It’s enough for a whole set of cards,” replied Mr. Merrill; “we’ll get fifty and then there will surely be enough.” Mary Jane slipped the second set into her bag and began making plans that very minute about giving them to Miss Lynn.

That was the very first Mary Jane had thought of home and school since the day she had sent the alligators to Doris, more than a week ago. But now that it had once come to her mind, she found herself thinking of the pleasant kindergarten many times through the next days and making plans for what she would do when she returned home.

Early the next morning the Merrills took the train to St. Augustine and spent a happy day exploring the old fort. The tunnels and dungeons made Mary Jane shiver they were so cold and dark and slimy, but the rooms opening onto the main courtyard--the rooms where the soldiers quartered in the fort had lived--the girls thought were lovely. The walls were covered with great plants of beautiful maiden hair fern, the biggest and loveliest the girls had ever seen. Alice thought it would be no hardship to live there though she did admit it would likely be damp!

At the end of the day they went back to Jacksonville in time to catch the nine o’clock limited for the North.

“Just think,” said Mary Jane as she slipped off her stockings and shoes and tucked them into the little hammock by the window of her berth, “I’m going to ride on this train all this night and all to-morrow and all another night and then I’ll be home!”

“I wonder if it’s snowing up there?” Alice was asking as she too began to undress at the same time; “wouldn’t snow seem funny?”

HOME AGAIN

“Look! Look! Just look there, Dadah!” cried Mary Jane the second morning later as their train dashed through the familiar woods and fields of their own state. “Look what it’s doing!”

The weather was indeed trying to give the returning travelers a frosty welcome. The fields were white with snow and great sheets of driving snowflakes piled up on the car window sill. The girls dressed in a hurry and went to the back platform to see the sight better. But they didn’t stay long! Not out there! The cold wind sent them scurrying into the warm car in a jiffy.

The train was late because of the storm, connections were bad in the city near their home town and the ride over home was slow and cold. So it was a rather weary and half frozen set of travelers who stiffly got off the traction line a couple of blocks from their own house.

“Ugh!” said Mrs. Merrill shivering, “I always like to come home, but I’ll declare I almost dread the next hour. The house will be clammy cold and it will take a while to get the furnace going and there won’t be a thing to eat.”

Mr. Merrill didn’t reply with his usual sympathy. He merely picked up the bag and walked off up the street--nobody guessed that he had to hurry off to keep the twinkle in his eye from being seen! Alice was glad to let him carry her bag too--her hands, used for some days to the summer heat, were cold and stiff; she could hardly manage a little swing of her arms when her mother suggested run and exercise to warm her up.

Mary Jane, hoping Doris might be at a window, had run ahead, but the snow laden hedge made it impossible to see the house.

But when they turned past the hedge at their own gateway, every one stopped still in amazement--all but Mr. Merrill, that is! Smoke was coming from both the chimneys of their own pretty home; the gleam of a fire in the living room fireplace showed from the front windows, and Amanda swung open the front door.

“I see de limited a-goin’ by,” she exclaimed, with a welcoming grin, “and I jes’ seys to myself ‘there’s my folks!’ So I run and put the kettle on! Come right in and I’ll have yo’ a cup o’ tea in a jiffy!”

“How in the world?” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill happily as she and the girls settled themselves cosily before the big, cheerful fire.

“Telegraphing, my dear,” said Mr. Merrill; “you may not know it, but this country has a fairly complete telegraph system and once in a while I think to use it!” He rubbed his hands by the blaze and smiled gayly over the success of his surprise.

“You certainly picked out the right thing to do, Dad,” said Alice as Amanda wheeled the little tea wagon before the fire and Alice spied a piled up plate full of hot cinnamon toast; “it’s worth the fun of going away, just to come home--it really is!”

The first thing after they were warmed and fed, Mary Jane got out her picture folders and spread them on the floor in front of the fire--folder after folder till the rug was almost covered.

“Now,” she said when she had them all in place where she could see them, “I’m going to see if I saw every place I intended to.”

“See if you got the worth of your money, you mean, do you?” laughed her father; “well you just go ahead and see. But if any two girls ever saw more of Florida and were away from home only fourteen days and fifteen nights--I’d like to see them! I’d like to know how they did it!”

And indeed, when Mary Jane and Alice began counting the pictures they had seen they realized more than even before, how very much they _had_ seen. For there were not more than a dozen pictures out of that whole collection that did not look familiar. Think of that!

The next morning Mary Jane buttoned on her leggings, put on her storm rubbers and heavy coat and cap and muff and started off through the snow to school. On her arm in her own little bag she carried all the picture post cards she had brought for her friends in kindergarten. At Doris’s gate she met her friends and Mr. Dana who was taking Doris to school on her sled.

“Pile on, Mary Jane,” he said cordially; “always room for one more on a sled you know. Hold tight, now! Here we go!” And away they dashed down the street and to the school.

When Miss Lynn saw the fine cards Mary Jane had brought for the pupils she at once suggested that they stop regular work for part of the morning and make a party in honor of Mary Jane’s return.

“We can hang the cards all around the room at the edge of the board,” she said, going to her desk to get the box of hangers; “and then as we march around and look at them, you can tell us about each picture.”

Mary Jane and pretty Miss Amerion, the assistant, set busily to work and by the time the bell rang a few minutes later all the pictures were hung in place. It was lots of fun to march around the room at the head of the class and tell interesting things about the pictures. She told about the fire on the boat and about riding the ponies and seeing the queer stoves in the orange orchard and everything she could think of. And she didn’t wonder a bit that the boys and girls (and teachers too) laughed when she told them about their wild ride in the auto in chase of a boat.

“What did you think was the strangest thing you saw, Mary Jane?” asked Miss Lynn when Mary Jane had finished.

“Well--” Mary Jane hesitated. She thought quickly of the jelly fish, the chameleon, the queer sword fish she had seen swimming in Clear River, but none of those seemed quite as queer as the big old alligators that looked so like logs.

“I think the alligators were the queerest,” she said decidedly, and she told how she had been fooled into thinking one was a real log.

Then suddenly she happened to think. “I sent Doris an alligator. I sent her two of ’em. Couldn’t she bring them to school so everybody could see? They were just baby ones of course, but they were funny all the same.”

The whole school looked over to Doris and saw the poor little girl flushed with embarrassment and hanging her head.

“Have you got them, dear?” asked Miss Lynn encouragingly; “maybe we could wrap them up warm and snug and bring them to school to-morrow.”

“Well, you see--” Doris hesitated and then blurted out suddenly, “we had ’em two days and then they both crawled down the register and they haven’t ever come back--not yet they haven’t.”

“They must have thought this country too cold,” said Miss Lynn; “but don’t you worry. We’ve nice pictures to look at and if the alligators ever come back you can bring them to us then.” And Doris was comforted.

For two months after they came home from Florida, Mary Jane went to kindergarten and played with her little friends and helped about the house just as she had loved to do before they went away for those wonderful two weeks. The piled up snows of winter melted into little dirty piles that finally slipped off into the ground without anybody noticing when they went. The buds on the lilac bush began to swell and two gay robins appeared in the garden to announce that spring was coming.

One warm noon time Mary Jane stopped on the front steps to make into a chain the first gay dandelions of the season she had picked on the way home from school.

“See, Dadah!” she exclaimed to her father as he came up the walk, “I got seven and I making them into a chain for mother--won’t she be pleased?”

“Indeed she will,” replied Mr. Merrill, but Mary Jane noticed that his voice sounded as though he was thinking of something else. “Do you like it so very well here, Mary Jane?” he asked and he waved his hand out toward the yard.

“Why yes, Dadah,” replied Mary Jane, puzzled at his manner, “don’t you?”

“Of course,” said Mr. Merrill, “but would you like to live somewhere else, do you think?”

Mary Jane looked out over the pretty front yard, where the grass was so green and the crocuses were peeking up here and there. “Well,” she said, “I like it here and I don’t know what you mean. But I think I’d like it anywhere you and mother and Alice were.”

“That’s my girl!” exclaimed her father as he hugged her close. “Come here, folks,” he added as Alice came up the walk just then and Mrs. Merrill opened the door to greet them; “I’ll tell you the news.” He pulled a yellow telegram from his pocket. “See that? That means new work and a promotion. And it means that we move to Chicago.”

“Leave here?” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill.

“Leave here inside of a month,” he replied. “Leave here and live in the big city.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Mary Jane, “go on the train again! Hashed brown potatoes! And have a moving wagon and boxes of things just like other folks! Oh me! Goody! Is it really for true?”

And if you want to read about all the fun Mary Jane had getting acquainted with the big city, exploring its parks and going to school, you will find it all told in

MARY JANE’S CITY HOME

_THE MARY JANE SERIES_

_By Clara Ingram Judson_

Cloth, 12 mo. Illustrated

Mary Jane is the typical American little girl who bubbles over with fun and the good things in life. We meet her here on a visit to her grandfather’s farm where she becomes acquainted with farm life and farm animals and thoroughly enjoys the experience. We next see her going to kindergarten and then on a visit to Florida, and then--but read the stories for yourselves.

Exquisitely and charmingly written are these books which every little girl from five to nine years old will want from the first book to the last.

1. MARY JANE--HER BOOK. 2. MARY JANE--HER VISIT. 3. MARY JANE’S KINDERGARTEN. 4. MARY JANE DOWN SOUTH. 5. MARY JANE’S CITY HOME. 6. MARY JANE IN NEW ENGLAND. 7. MARY JANE’S COUNTRY HOME. 8. MARY JANE AT SCHOOL. 9. MARY JANE IN CANADA. 10. MARY JANE’S SUMMER FUN. 11. MARY JANE’S WINTER SPORTS. 12. MARY JANE’S VACATION. 13. MARY JANE IN ENGLAND. 14. MARY JANE IN SCOTLAND.

Publishers BARSE & CO. New York, N. Y. Newark, N. J.

Elizabeth Ann Series

By JOSEPHINE LAWRENCE

_For Girls from 7 to 12_

Elizabeth Ann is a little girl whom we first meet on a big train, travelling all alone. Her father and mother have sailed for Japan, and she is sent back East to visit at first one relative’s home, and then another. Of course, she meets many new friends, some of whom she is quite happy with, while others--but you must read the stories for yourself. Every other girl who reads the first of these charming books will want all the rest; for Elizabeth Ann is certainly worth the cultivating.

THE ADVENTURES OF ELIZABETH ANN. ELIZABETH ANN AT MAPLE SPRING. ELIZABETH ANN’S SIX COUSINS. ELIZABETH ANN and DORIS. ELIZABETH ANN’S BORROWED GRANDMA. ELIZABETH ANN’S SPRING VACATION. ELIZABETH ANN and UNCLE DOCTOR. ELIZABETH ANN’S HOUSEBOAT.

Publishers BARSE & CO. New York, N. Y. Newark, N. J.

_THE “TWINS” SERIES_

_By Dorothy Whitehill_

Cloth, 12 mo. Illustrated.

Here is a sparkling new series of stories for girls--just what they will like, and ask for more of the same kind. It is all about twin sisters, who for the first few years in their lives grow up in ignorance of each other’s existence. Then they are at last brought together and things begin to happen. Janet is an independent go-ahead sort of girl; while her sister Phyllis is--but meet the twins for yourself and be entertained.

1. JANET, A TWIN. 2. PHYLLIS, A TWIN. 3. THE TWINS IN THE WEST. 4. THE TWINS IN THE SOUTH. 5. THE TWINS’ SUMMER VACATION. 6. THE TWINS AND TOMMY, JR. 7. THE TWINS AT HOME. 8. THE TWINS’ WEDDING. 9. THE TWINS ADVENTURING. 10. THE TWINS AT CAMP. 11. THE TWINS ABROAD.

Publishers BARSE & CO. New York, N. Y. Newark, N. J.

_The Joyce Payton Series_

_By_ DOROTHY WHITEHILL

_For girls from 8 to 14_

Between the covers of these new books will be found the most intensely interesting cast of characters, whose adventures in school and at home keep one guessing continually. Joyce Payton, known as “Joy” with her knowledge of gypsy ways, is bound to become a universal favorite; there is also Pam, her running mate, and her best chum; Gypsy Joe, the little Romany genius, and his magical “fiddle,” with which he talks to the birds, squirrels, and in fact all of Animated Nature. Then there is among the host of others Gloria, the city-bred cousin, a spoiled darling; who feels like a “cat in a strange garret” when in the company of Joy and her friends.

1. JOY AND GYPSY JOE. 2. JOY AND PAM. 3. JOY AND HER CHUMS. 4. JOY AND PAM AT BROOKSIDE.

Publishers BARSE & CO. New York, N. Y. Newark, N. J.

Transcriber’s Note:

Page 13 for its two week’s vacation _changed to_ for its two weeks’ vacation

Page 49 the ’gaters climbed slowly _changed to_ the ’gators climbed slowly

Page 58 wall’s is real! _changed to_ walls is real!

Page 74 there was an open pavalion _changed to_ there was an open pavilion

End of Project Gutenberg's Mary Jane Down South, by Clara Ingram Judson