Mary Jane: Her Book | Page 8

fine day to be out of doors!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill,
contentedly. "See Mr. Robin out there, digging away for his family? He
has a hard time hunting worms in the grass. I expect he wishes we had
a newly dug garden around this place." Mary Jane looked up
indifferently, just in time to see a twinkle in her mother's eye. Did the
twinkle have anything to do with the secret? Mary Jane wondered.

"What would he do with a garden?" she asked.
"Get worms out of it," answered Mrs. Merrill.
"But isn't he getting worms out of the yard?" asked Mary Jane, looking
out to where the robin was industriously pecking at the ground.
"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Merrill, "of course he is; but see how he has to
work! Now if that yard was all dug up nicely for a garden, the worms
would be plain to see and all he would have to do would be to pick
them out. Think how much easier that would be."
Mary Jane didn't answer. She looked out at the robin, but someway, she
couldn't quite take an interest in his affairs; she was too busy thinking
about her own secret and how disappointed Daddah would be when he
saw that old dress.
And then, just as she was going to ask the time, she spied him coming
around the corner. And she forgot all about dresses and remembered
only the secret. Down the steps, along the walk and out to the street she
ran, reaching the curbstone just as he pulled the car alongside.
"Hop in and ride around," he said, gayly. And then, as she climbed in
he added, "Lucky you put that dress on. I forgot to tell you to be ready
with something old. Now that you are we won't have to waste time
changing."
Mary Jane stared. But seeing he seemed pleased, she said nothing about
all her worries over the old dress.
"Do we have the secret in the car?" she asked.
"Dear me, no!" laughed father, "it's plain to see that you haven't
guessed what it is. We'll put the car in the garage and then, while I slip
on some old clothes to match yours, you may open that bundle in the
back, there. It's part of the secret."
Mary Jane peered over the back of her seat at the queer looking bundle
in the car. It was about as tall as she was, she decided, and bigger
around than her two hands could reach and wrapped in brown paper
and tied three times with very heavy twine. Now what could that be?
Father set her down in the garage and handed her the package and then
hurried off into the house.
She tried to pull the strings off but they wouldn't pull; there seemed to
be a bunch of the wrapping paper at one end and a hump inside the
parcel at the other. So she decided to run in for mother's scissors.
But just as she got to the back steps, she met father coming out--it

hadn't taken him long to get into old clothes, that was certain.
"Never mind about the scissors, Blunderbuss," said he laughingly,
using a name he sometimes called her, "I'll take my knife."
Just three slashes of the sharp knife and the strings were off. Mary Jane
opened the paper with shaking fingers, she was that excited. And what
do you suppose she found?
A garden set--a spade and a hoe and a rake all just the right size for a
little girl to work with and so pretty and clean and new that Mary Jane
knew that they had been purchased on purpose for her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands and dancing around, "it's a
garden! I know the secret now! It's a garden! That's what mother was
trying to make me guess and I never thought! May I have one all my
very ownest own?"
"That's the secret," admitted Mr. Merrill, "and the garden is for you
only--just as long as you take care of it. Now you take your tools and
I'll take mine and we'll see where this garden is to be."
They paraded out of the garage and over to where the last summer's
garden had been. "I've been meaning to get at this for a week," said Mr.
Merrill, "but I hate to work alone. If you'll help me, we can have the
finest garden ever. Now where do you want yours to be?"
Mary Jane looked around thoughtfully. There was the rose bed--she
surely couldn't have that, it belonged to mother. And the asparagus bed,
it was already showing shoots of green. "I guess I'll take next door to
the rose bed," she decided promptly, "because I like roses. Can I