The pretty little house they had loved so well was sold. The furniture and books and dolls and clothes were all packed and loaded on a freight car to follow them to the city and all the dear friends had been given a farewell. Mary Jane had loved the excitement and muss of packing; the great boxes and the masses of crinkly excelsior and the workmen around who always had time for a pleasant joke with an interested little girl. But when it came time to say good-by to Doris and to her much loved kindergarten and to all the boys and girls in school and “on her block,” going away wasn’t so funny. In fact, Mary Jane felt a queer and troublesome lump in her throat most of the morning when the good-bys were said.
But the ride on the train (and how Mary Jane did love to ride on the train); and the nice luncheon on the diner (and how Mary Jane did adore eating on a diner—hashed brown potatoes, a whole order by herself and ice cream and everything!); and then father’s nice talk about all the fun they were going to have, made the lump vanish and in its place there developed an eager desire to see the new city and to begin all the promised fun. It was then that Mr. Merrill showed them the big map of the city and pointed out the part of the city where they would likely live.
As the girls watched, the great factories and foundries slipped away into the distance, and in their place the girls could see houses and occasional stores and here and there a station, past which their train dashed as though it wasn’t looking for stations to-day, thank you.
“Don’t we stop anywhere?” asked Mary Jane after she had counted three of these little stations.
“Those are suburban stations,” explained Mr. Merrill, “and a big through train like ours hasn’t time to stop at every one. Pretty soon another train will come along and stop at each one of those we are now passing so don’t you worry about folks getting left. This train we are on has got to get us into Chicago in time for dinner.”
And just at that minute, when the big three story apartment buildings that looked so very queer and strange to Mary Jane, began to fill every block, the porter came to brush her off and to help her on with her coat.
“I’m going to live here in Chicago,” she said to him as he held the coat for her, “and it’s a big place with lots of lake and parks and—houses, I guess, and most everything.”
“’Deed it is big, missy,” replied the porter, “and I hope you’s going to like it a lot, I do.”
“I’m a-going to,” answered Mary Jane confidently, as she picked up Georgiannamore and Georgiannamore’s suit case which at the last moment couldn’t possibly be packed in the trunk, and followed her father and mother down the aisle, “’cause mother and Dadah and Alice are going to live here too and we always have fun.”
Mr. and Mrs. Merrill had decided to get off at one of the larger suburban stations and spend a few days in a near-by hotel; they thought the comparative quiet of a residence hotel would be better for their girls than the flurry and hurry of a big down town hotel. But to Mary Jane, accustomed to the sights and sounds of a small city where street cars went dignifiedly past every fifteen minutes and where traffic “cops” would have very few duties, the confusion she found herself in was quite enough to be very interesting.