Mary Jane in New England

by Clara Ingram Judson

There was no use staying under a tree and there's no telling what would have happened to hats bought for Boston if Alice hadn't happened to spy a bandstand close by. A hasty dash for its shelter and they were safe—at least for a while.

"If it ever stops again," suggested Mrs. Merrill, "let's go over there and take the trolley that runs across the bridge Mary Jane was asking about, and ride down the gorge."

And of course it did stop in a few minutes and they hurried over and boarded a car. That was the most interesting trolley ride Mary Jane had ever taken or even dreamed of taking. Across the wonderful suspension bridge, along the very tip edge of the high bluff on the Canadian side of the river the car made its way—so close sometimes that Mary Jane held her breath lest it tumble over. Then, several miles down the river, they crossed another bridge and came up the American side. This wasn't so exciting as the banks were not nearly as high, but it was even more interesting, for from her seat in the car Mary Jane could see the rapids where the water dashed over the great jutting rocks and the whirlpool that was so fascinating to watch.

"Oh, let's get out here and wait a while," she cried as the car stopped at a tiny station. "I want to watch that water a-whirling around."

"Good idea, dear," said Mrs. Merrill, and she signaled the conductor that they wished to get off. But as though to make sport of them, the rain clouds which had appeared to be blowing away, opened up again and a shower of rain fell on the car roof.

"No sightseeing for us to-day," laughed Mr. Merrill, "except under cover. I think we'll keep under a roof while we have one handy!"

So they stayed on the car and rode on into the city. But there was a lot to see even from a trolley car and Mary Jane thought she never could forget all the wonderful and curious sights of that trip.

They got off at their hotel and the girls spent a happy two hours looking at the curios in the shop windows and then they had luncheon.

Again the sun tried to come out and the party took a carriage to drive to Goat Island. But just as sure as they attempted to get out of the carriage to have a close view of some sight the driver pointed out to them—just that surely would the pattering drops descend and drive them scurrying to shelter.

At five o'clock they drove to the train that was to take them to Buffalo where father was to put them on the train for Boston.