Marjories Vacation | Page 7

in a sunny flowerbed, and raked the dirt neatly over
them with an experienced touch.
"That looks lovely," said Marjorie, with a satisfied nod of approval;
"now let's go and see the chickens."
This proved even more interesting than she had anticipated, for since
her last visit an incubator had been purchased, and there were hundreds
of little chickens of various sizes, in different compartments, to be
looked at and admired.
"Aren't they darlings!" exclaimed Marjorie, as she watched the little
yellow balls trying to balance themselves on slender little brown stems
that hardly seemed as if they could be meant for legs. "Oh, Carter, I
shall spend hours out here every day!"
"Do, Miss Midge; I'll be glad to have you, and the chickens won't mind

it a bit."
"Now the horses," Marjorie went on, and off they went to the stables,
where Moses had already unharnessed the carriage team, and put them
in their stalls. Uncle Steve had a new saddle horse, which came in for a
large share of admiration, and the old horse, Betsy, which Grandma
Sherwood liked to drive herself, was also to be greeted.
Marjorie loved all animals, but after cats, horses were her favorites.
"Are there any ducks this year, Carter?" she inquired.
"Yes, Miss Midge, there is a duck-pond full of them; and you haven't
seen the new boathouse that was built last year for Master Kingdon."
"No, but I want to see it; and oh, Carter, don't you think you could
teach me to row?"
"I'm sure of it, Miss Midge; but I hear your grandmother calling you,
and I think you'd better leave the boathouse to see to- morrow."
"All right; I think so too, Carter." And Marjorie ran back to the house,
her broad-brimmed hat in one hand and her hair ribbon in the other,
while her curls were, indeed, in a tangled mop.
CHAPTER III
ON THE ROOF
"Why, Mopsy Maynard," exclaimed her mother, as Marjorie danced
into the house, smiling and dishevelled, "what a looking head! Please
go straight to your room, and make yourself tidy before supper time."
"Yes, indeed, Mother, but just listen a minute! Uncle Steve has a new
horse, a black one, and there are a hundred million little chickens, in
the queerest kind of a thing, but I can't remember its name,--it's
something like elevator."

"Incubator, perhaps," suggested her mother.
"Yes, that's it; and oh, Mother, it's so funny! Do come out and see it,
won't you?"
"Not to-night, child; and now run up to your room and tie up your
hair."
Marjorie danced upstairs, singing as she went, but when she reached
the door of the room she was accustomed to use, she stopped her
singing and stood in the doorway, stock-still with sheer bewilderment.
For somehow the room had been entirely transformed, and looked like
a totally different apartment.
The room was in one of the wings of the house, and was large and
square, with windows on two sides. But these had been ordinary
windows, and now they were replaced by large, roomy bay windows,
with glass doors that reached from floor to ceiling, and opened out on
little balconies. In one of these bay windows was a dear little
rocking-chair painted white, and a standard work-basket of dainty
white and green wicker, completely furnished with sewing materials. In
the other bay window was a dear little writing-desk of bird's-eye maple,
and a wicker chair in front of it. The desk was open, and Marjorie could
see all sorts of pens and pencils and paper in fascinating array.
But these were only a few of the surprises. The whole room had been
redecorated, and the walls were papered with a design of yellow
daffodils in little bunches tied with pale green ribbon. The woodwork
was all painted white, and entirely around the room, at just about the
height of Marjorie's chin, ran a broad white shelf. Of course this shelf
stopped for the windows and doors, but the room was large, and there
was a great deal of space left for the shelf. But it was the things on the
shelf that attracted Marjorie's attention. One side of the room was
devoted to books, and Marjorie quickly recognized many of her old
favorites, and many new ones. On another side of the room the shelf
was filled with flowers, some blooming gayly in pots, and some cut
blossoms in vases of water. On a third side of the room the shelf held

birds, and this sight nearly took Marjorie's breath away. Some were in
gilt cages, a canary, a goldfinch, and another bird whose name Marjorie
did not know. And some were stuffed birds of brilliant plumage, and
mounted in most natural positions on twigs or branches, or perched
upon an ivy