Chapter 7

"That's no surprise," laughed Alice; "Grandmother has the coffee in her basket and she told me I could help you make the fire!"

"Isn't that amazing!" teased Grandfather, and Alice knew from the way he talked that she hadn't guessed the secret after all.

Flatrock was a rough, wooded spot, most unusual for that region; and right through the middle of the woods a pretty little creek ran tumbling over some broad, flat rocks. It was by the side of one of these rocks, close by the little stream, that Grandfather started his fire. He pulled two logs together till they formed a big V; then he and Mr. Merrill and the girls gathered wood, twigs and branches and leaves, till they had a big pile between the logs. They set fire to these and soon they had a heap of glowing coals.

"Now," said Grandfather, "I think it's about time for our surprise. Shall we get it, Mary Jane?"

She nodded "yes" and he went to the car, bringing back with him the mysteriously covered basket. "You shall take the cover off, Pussy," he said.

Mary Jane pulled back the cover cloth and there, inside, was a basket full to the brim of--yes, it was--roasting ears! The very first of the season!

"We keep watch of our corn patch, we do," said Grandfather, and he nodded solemnly at Mary Jane, "and now we're going to have something good."

They piled the roasting ears in on the hot coals, then they built another fire over the top of them, and by the time that had burned down the corn was ready to eat.

Grandmother and Mother and Alice unpacked the baskets and they all sat around and enjoyed the feast. Grandmother's fried chicken and crullers and rolls and Alice's fine cake, which was given the place of honor on a rock by itself where it could be seen all the time till they were ready to eat it, were pronounced the best ever.

The moon rose so clear and big and beautiful that it was hard to tell just when day ended and night began. So it was a surprise when Grandfather announced that it was eight o'clock and high time they were starting home. The few scraps, and there weren't very many, were packed neatly into one basket and the party regretfully left the rocks and started for the car.

"Nobody ever comes along this road at this time of night," said Grandfather. "I'll just get the car out into the middle of the road where you can get in easier." So he pulled it away from the fence where he had left it, and ran it out into the middle of the road. "Here, Pussy," he added, "run around on the other side of the car and hand me that basket."

Mary Jane did as she was told and after he had taken the basket from her she waited in the middle of the road, by the car, till he should be ready to help her in.

No one ever knew quite how it happened--it was all so sudden. Perhaps the other driver, too, thought that no one was ever on that road at that time of the evening. Out of the shadows and the moonshine, around the curve of the road, came a roadster moving so fast that before its driver could realize that some one stood in the center of the road, he had hit Mary Jane squarely and had tossed her over the fence on the opposite side of the road.

Grandfather jumped over the fence after her as quickly as he could out of the car, but, quick as he was, Mary Jane's father was quicker. He picked up the little girl, carried her back to her mother and together they ran their hands over her--no bones seemed to be broken; her heart was beating and she was breathing. But _just_ breathing, that was all. She lay in her mother's arms as still and quiet--so still and so quiet that she didn't seem like Mary Jane--the Mary Jane who was always running and talking and lively.

Without more than a half-dozen necessary words Grandfather and Grandmother, Father, Mother and Alice got into the car and Grandfather put on all speed. The one thought in every one's mind was to get to Dr. Smith as quickly as ever they could. Grandfather was thankful for the moonlight that made the way so plain and he drove home the fastest he had ever driven.

And so they came back from the picnic at Flatrock.

HOME AGAIN

"Would you speak to her, doctor?" asked Mrs. Merrill anxiously.

It was eight o'clock the next morning. They had reached home about an hour after they left Flatrock and fortunately had found Dr. Smith at home. He came at once in answer to their telephone call and was there even before they had Mary Jane undressed and put to bed. He examined her carefully and could find no broken bones and no injury, but still Mary Jane slept on, breathing, but so quietly and unnaturally that she didn't seem like herself. Her mother and father had stayed by her all the night long; Grandmother, Grandfather and Alice had with difficulty been sent to bed after midnight and Dr. Smith had stayed most of the time.

But when she still didn't stir the next morning Mrs. Merrill grew more and more anxious.

"I don't know," said the doctor doubtfully; "we might try. You speak to her; your voice would be the best."

Mrs. Merrill bent low over her little girl and whispered, "Mary Jane! Mary Jane! Mother's here!"

No answer, but Mrs. Merrill thought she saw a quiver on the little girl's face, so she tried again.

"Mary Jane! Mary Jane! Mother's here!" she repeated.

"I know," whispered the little girl; "you com'd to-day," and she opened her big blue eyes and looked at her mother.

Mrs. Merrill kissed her rapturously and held her close, and Mary Jane raised her arm enough to pat her mother's shoulder. Then she looked around the room in surprise. "Where's the moon?" she asked.

"The moon?" said Mrs. Merrill, and the laugh she tried to give with her answer sounded very near tears. "The moon went to sleep a long time ago."

"And where's the picnic?" continued Mary Jane wonderingly.

"The picnic was over before you were hurt," said Mrs. Merrill.

Mary Jane stared at her wide eyed for two or three long minutes. "Don't talk to her," whispered Dr. Smith very softly; "let her think it out herself."

So Mrs. Merrill just held her little girl close and waited.

"Oh, I know!" exclaimed Mary Jane as suddenly she remembered it all, "it came around the corner so fast--something big did, and then I'm here!"

"And lucky you are to be here, young lady," said Dr. Smith, coming around to where she could see him. "How do you feel?"

"Hungry," said Mary Jane briefly.

Dr. Smith and Mother laughed so that the others heard them downstairs and came running to hear what the good news could be.

"Is he going to stay for breakfast?" asked Mary Jane as she sat up in bed and pointed to Dr. Smith. "It _is_ breakfast time, isn't it, Grandmother?"

"Bless the child!" exclaimed Grandmother from the doorway, "of course it is! She shall have anything she wants!"

They could hardly believe their eyes--those five who had seen the accident, but it was true. Mary Jane had not been hurt a bit--not more than a half-dozen scratches--only stunned by her fall. She got up in a few minutes, and with her mother's help (and how good it did seem to have her mother there _to_ help) they soon came downstairs to breakfast. Grandmother was so happy and excited that if it hadn't been for the help of Alice, who could always be counted on to be "steady" when there was excitement a-foot, there's no telling what would have happened to that breakfast.

Alice got out the honey and set the extra place for Dr. Smith and cut the melons and brought the eggs to her grandmother. And Grandmother made some of her wonderful griddle cakes and they had a merry feast.

"Aren't you glad that big thing hit me?" asked Mary Jane of Dr. Smith as she passed up her plate for a third (or was it the fourth) helping of cakes, "'cause if it hadn't, you wouldn't have had any of Grandmother's griddle cakes this morning, you wouldn't."

Dr. Smith had to admit that some good comes of everything and that he certainly was glad to get those griddle cakes. "The whole trouble," he added, "was because you didn't take _me_ to the picnic--of course that's not a hint!"

They all laughed at that and promised that he should go to the very next picnic they had--the very next.

How the days did fly after that.

Mary Jane would never have supposed that ten days could go so swiftly. They took long rides in the car; had several fine picnics--with Dr. Smith along whenever he could go; went fishing in the river miles away and spent a day on a farm where threshers were working--a wonderful day the girls thought for it was all new to them.

And finally it came time to pack the trunks and start for home.

Mary Jane had hard work deciding what to put in, just as she had had when she packed to come. She wanted to take all the burr houses and green apple dolls they had made; and the ducks and a lot of corn and apples for Doris. She finally agreed that she would leave out all the other things if she could take _one_ house of burrs and _one_ green apple doll just to show how they were made and then a nice box of red cheeked eating apples to give to her little friend.

It was decided to go home by the day trip. The journey was shorter that way and Alice begged to go at a time when they might eat in the diner. So they took the train at nine in the morning and would reach home in time for dinner that night.

Mary Jane found it very hard to say good-by to Grandmother and Grandfather. She had learned to love them dearly and they had been so good and kind and thoughtful to her she would never, as long as she lived, forget the happy days she had spent with them. But, nice as it was to go away to visit, it was nicer still to be going home. Home to her own dolls and toys and friends and duties--everything that Mary Jane loved--that is, most everything, for it was hard to leave the lamb and the duck now grown so big and interesting and the baby mice--the new baby mice that had come to the barn loft family.

She waved good-by to her Grandmother and Grandfather as long as she could see them--which wasn't very long for the train pulled away so quickly from the little station where the Merrills got on; and then she turned to her mother and said, "now let's talk about something quick."

"Very well," said Mrs. Merrill, "I was just wanting to do that. Let's talk about what you are going to do this winter."

"Do this winter?" exclaimed Mary Jane in surprise, "I'm going to do just like I always do. I'm going to play with my dolls and play with Doris and sometimes with Junior and help you and everything like I do, Mother."

"Think so, dear?" asked Mrs. Merrill, "how old are you?"

"I'm five," answered Mary Jane in surprise.

"Five and a little more than a quarter," corrected Mrs. Merrill, "and seems to me that's big enough to be going to kindergarten. What do you think?"

"Oh, is it, Mother?" exclaimed Mary Jane happily, "am I really big enough?"

"I'm afraid my little girl is growing up," said Mrs. Merrill with half a sigh, "and that she ought to go to school. What do you think, Father?"

"I think she'll like it and that she ought to go," said Mr. Merrill promptly; "suppose we start her the first of October?"

So it was settled that Mary Jane was to go to kindergarten. They made plans and talked till the porter came through the car and called, "First call for luncheon! First call for luncheon! Diner in the rear of the train!" And then they all went through the train to the diner and Mary Jane ate her first meal on the train.

And if you want to know about what Mary Jane did after she got home from her summer trip; and about all the fun and good times she had after she started to kindergarten, you must read--

MARY JANE IN KINDERGARTEN