Mary Jane Down South

by Clara Ingram Judson

Of course it would be jolly and both Alice and Mary Jane were eager to be off.

“Let’s go down that same street we rode on, Mother,” suggested Alice, “because when we were riding we didn’t see a thing but the ponies and the road and I’d like to see everything—every single thing, in this nice old town.”

“Very well,” agreed Mrs. Merrill, “that’s what we’ll do. Our luncheon will be ready in a very little while. Let’s get our mail and tell Ellen that Mary Jane can’t play this morning and I expect by that time it will be waiting for us.”

Sure enough! By the time all necessary errands were finished the steward came to the lobby with the luncheon all neatly packed in a nice box.

“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.