Aunt Janes Nieces and Uncle John | Page 4

the business out of your mind. Let's go somewhere and have a good romp. It will cheer us up."
The Major stared first at one and then at the other.
"What's the programme, John?" he asked stiffly.
"It's going to be a cold winter," remarked the little man, bobbing his head up and down slowly.
"It is!" cried Patsy, clasping her hands fervently. "I can feel it in my bones."
"So we're going," said Uncle John, impressively, "to California--where they grow sunshine and roses to offset our blizzards and icicles."
"Hurray!" shouted Patsy. "I've always wanted to go to California."
"California!" said the Major, amazed; "why, it's farther away than Europe. It takes a month to get there."
"Nonsense." retorted Uncle John. "It's only four days from coast to coast. I have a time-table, somewhere," and he began searching in his pockets.
There was a silence, oppressive on the Major's part, ecstatic as far as Patsy was concerned. Uncle John found the railway folder, put on his spectacles, and began to examine it.
"At my time of life," remarked Major Doyle, who was hale and hearty as a boy, "such a trip is a great undertaking."
"Twenty-four hours to Chicago," muttered Uncle John; "and then three days to Los Angeles or San Francisco. That's all there is to it."
"Four days and four nights of dreary riding. We'd be dead by that time," prophesied the Major.
Uncle John looked thoughtful. Then he lay back in his chair and spread his handkerchief over his face again.
"No, no!" cried the Major, in alarm. "For mercy's sake, John, don't go to sleep and catch any more of those terrible ideas. No one knows where the next one might carry us--to Timbuktu or Yucatan, probably. Let's stick to California and settle the question before your hothouse brain grows any more weeds."
"Yucatan," remarked Mr. Merrick, composedly, his voice muffled by the handkerchief, "isn't a bad suggestion."
"I knew it!" wailed the Major. "How would Ethiopia or Hindustan strike you?"
Patsy laughed at him. She knew something good was in store for her and like all girls was enraptured at the thought of visiting new and interesting scenes.
"Don't bother Uncle John, Daddy," she said. "You know very well he will carry out any whim that seizes him; especially if you oppose the plan, which you usually do."
"He's the most erratic and irresponsible man that ever lived," announced her father, staring moodily at the spread handkerchief which covered Uncle John's cherub-like features. "New York is good enough for anybody, even in winter; and now that you're in society, Patsy--"
"Oh, bother society! I hate it."
"True," he agreed; "it's a regular treadmill when it has enslaved one, and keeps you going on and on without progressing a bit. The object of society is to tire you out and keep you from indulging in any other occupation."
"You know nothing about it," observed Patsy, demurely, "and that is why you love to rail at society. The things you know, Daddy dear, are the things you never remark upon."
"Huh!" grunted the Major, and relapsed into silence.
Mumbles had finished his after-dinner nap and was now awakening to activity. This dog's size, according to the Major, was "about 4x6; but you can't tell which is the 4 and which the 6." He was distressingly shaggy. Patsy could find the stump of his tail only by careful search. Seldom were both eyes uncovered by hair at the same time. But, as his new mistress had said, he was a wise little dog for one who had only known the world for a few months, and his brain was exceedingly alert. After yawning at the fire he rubbed his back against the Major's legs, sat up beside Patsy and looked at her from one eye pleadingly. Next he trotted over to Uncle John. The big white handkerchief attracted him and one corner hung down from the edge of the reclining chair. Mumbles sat up and reached for it, but could not quite get it in his teeth. So he sat down and thought it over, and presently made a leap so unexpectedly agile that Patsy roared with merriment and even the Major grinned. Uncle John, aroused, sat up and found the puppy rolling on the floor and fighting the handkerchief as if it had been some deadly foe.
"Thank goodness," sighed the Major. "The little black rascal has providently prevented you from evolving another idea."
"Not so," responded Mr. Merrick amiably. "I've thought the thing all out, and completed our programme."
"Is it still to be California?" anxiously inquired Patsy.
"Of course. I can't give up the sunshine and roses, you know. But we won't bore the Major by four solid days of railway travel. We'll break the journey, and take two or three weeks to it--perhaps a month."
"Conquering Caesar! A month!" ejaculated the old soldier, a desperate look on his face.
"Yes. Listen, both of