"What ever is the matter?" she cried.
"I was just giving the baby robins a drink," sputtered Mary Jane, "and they didn't seem to like it!"
Mrs. Merrill gathered her into her arms, wetness and all, and held her close. "I thought something had happened to my little girl," she said. "You must come in and get dry clothes on, dear; then I'll tell you more about the babies and you'll understand why they don't like too much water."
"And I'll tell you something," said father. "If you like to learn about creatures and everything that grows, you meet me here at the back door step at five o'clock this afternoon and I'll tell you a secret."
"Oh, goody!" cried Mary Jane, as she clapped her wet hands. "Can't you tell it to me now?"
"I should say not!" said father importantly, "it's a secret! You'll have to wait till five o'clock!" And he hurried off to his work leaving Mary Jane to a day of wondering what might be coming—a pleasant sort of wondering, for father's secrets were always jolly ones.
FATHER'S SECRET
Mary Jane thought that five o'clock would never come—never! She looked at the clock and looked at the clock and she asked mother and Alice to tell her the time so as to be sure she herself wasn't mistaken in what the clock said. But finally lunch time was passed, and rest time, and then Mary Jane knew it wouldn't be very long till five o'clock.
"Now, I'm going to dress for my secret," she said when her rest was finished.
"That's just what I came to see you about," said Mrs. Merrill, who came into Mary Jane's room at that minute, "you'd better put on this little dress." And she held up a little, old, dark blue morning dress—not at all the sort of dress that a little girl would wear to an afternoon secret, Mary Jane was sure of that.