"Never mind," said Mary Jane, thinking to comfort her hostess, "there's plenty of ice cream and he can have half of my crackerjack—I'd be glad to divide it."
Before either Mrs. Merrill or Mrs. Humphrey could interfere, Mary Jane had slipped from her chair and was hospitably passing the cones to the dignified chauffeur. Never did a man look more insulted! He, Higgins, to eat an ice cream cone while on duty and in his best uniform! Perish the thought! But a glance at Mary Jane's kindly smile changed his answer and instead of frowning no without a word as he meant to, he smiled and said, "Thank you kindly, miss, but I must give all my attention to the wheel."
"Well, don't worry," said Mary Jane, "I'll eat it then." And she did.
A DAY IN PLYMOUTH
When Mary Jane stepped off the train in the little town of Plymouth the next morning, she expected to see the famous Plymouth Rock the very first thing. Instead, she saw a modern station with its line of autos, surreys and wagons drawn up along the side and a parkway stretching away toward the hill.
"Where do they keep the rock?" she asked her mother.
"Goodness only knows!" laughed Mrs. Merrill. "Don't expect me to know everything, honey. But I do know they have it around here somewhere."
"Oh, Mother," cried Alice, "look at that darling pony! Couldn't we get that man to drive us around some place? I'd adore to have that pony pull me!"
Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane liked the idea too, so they engaged the driver of a quaint little pony cart to take them around the village.
But before five minutes had passed, they almost repented of their bargain. For, turning away from the station to the right, they began ascending a hill that taxed the strength of the pony to the utmost. Up they went and up and up, and the little pony pulled and pulled and pulled his best, but with such a load he couldn't go faster than a very, very slow walk.