Our Little Canadian Cousin
CHAPTER I.
It was the very first day of the loveliest month in the year. I suppose every month has its defenders, or, at least, its apologists, but June—June in Canada—has surely no need of either. And this particular morning was of the best and brightest. The garden at the back of Mr. Merrithew's house was sweet with the scent of newly blossomed lilacs, and the freshness of young grass. The light green of the elms was as yet undimmed by the dust of summer, and the air was like the elixir of life.
Two children sat on the grass under the lilacs, making dandelion chains and talking happily.
Jack, a little fair-haired boy of six, was noted for his queer speeches and quaint ideas. His sister Marjorie was just twice his age, but they were closest chums, and delighted in building all sorts of air-castles together. This afternoon, when she had finished a chain of marvellous length, she leant back against the lilac-trees and said, with a sigh of happiness:
"Now, Jack, let's make plans!"
"All right," Jack answered, solemnly. "Let's plan about going to Quebec next winter."
"Oh, Jackie! Don't let's plan about winter on the first day of June! There's all the lovely, lovely summer to talk about,—and I know two fine things that are going to happen."
"All right!" said Jackie again. It was his favourite expression. "I know one of them; Daddy told me this morning. It's about Cousin Dora coming to stay with us."