Marjories Vacation | Page 5

in a
sunny place, for if you don't they won't grow right."
"What are the seeds?" asked Marjorie.
"Never mind that," said her brother; "you just plant them in a warm,
sunny bed, in good, rich soil, and then you wait and see what comes up.
It's a surprise."
"All right, I'll do that, and I suppose Grandma will give me a lot of
seeds besides; we always have gardens, you know."
"Be sure to write to me," said Kitty, "about Molly Moss. She's the one
that lives in the next house but one to Grandma's. You've never seen
her, but I saw her two years ago, and she's an awfully nice girl. You'll
like her, I know."
"And what shall I remember to do for you, Rosy Posy?" asked Marjorie,
as she kissed the baby good-bye.
"Don't know," responded the little one; "I've never been to Gamma's. Is
they piggy-wigs there?"
"No," said Marjorie, laughing; "no piggy-wigs, but some nice ducks."

"All wite; b'ing me a duck."
"I will, if Grandma will give me one"; and then Marjorie was hurried
down the steps by her father, and into the carriage, and away she went,
with many a backward look at the three children who stood on the
veranda waving good-byes to her.
The railroad trip to Morristown lasted about four hours, and Marjorie
greatly enjoyed it. Mr. Maynard had put the two travellers into their
chairs in the parlor car, and arranged their belongings for them.
Marjorie had brought a book to read and a game to play, but with the
novel attractions of the trip and the care of her kitten, she was not likely
to have time hang heavily on her hands.
Mrs. Maynard read a magazine for a time, and then they were
summoned to luncheon in the diningcar. Marjorie thought this great fun,
for what is nicer than to be a hungry little girl of twelve, and to eat all
sorts of good things, while flying swiftly along in a railroad train, and
gazing out of the window at towns and cities rushing by?
Marjorie sat opposite her mother, and observed with great interest the
other passengers about. Across the car was a little girl who seemed to
be about her own age, and Marjorie greatly wished that they might
become acquainted. Mrs. Maynard said that after luncheon she might
go and speak to the little stranger if she chose, and Marjorie gladly did
so.
"I wonder if you belong in my car," said Marjorie, by way of opening
the conversation.
"I don't know," said the other child; "our seats are in the car just back of
this."
"We are two cars back," said Marjorie, "but perhaps your mother will
let you come into my car a while. I have my kitten with me."
"Where is it?" asked the other little girl.

"I had to leave it with the porter while we came to luncheon. Oh, she's
the loveliest kitten you ever saw, and her name is Puff. What's your
name?"
"My name is Stella Martin. What's yours?"
"My real name is Marjorie Maynard. But I'm almost always called
Midge or Mops or some name like that. We all have nicknames at
home; don't you?"
"No, because you see I haven't any brothers or sisters. Mother always
calls me Stella."
"Well, let's go and ask her if you can't come into my car for a while.
My mother will look after you, and then you can see the kitten."
After some courteous words of explanation between the two mothers,
Stella was allowed to play with Marjorie for the rest of the journey.
Seated together in one of the big Pullman easy chairs, with the kitten
cuddled between them, they rapidly made each other's acquaintance,
and soon became good friends. They were not at all alike, for Stella
Martin was a thin, pale child with a long braid of straight, light hair,
and light blue eyes. She was timid, too, and absolutely devoid of
Marjorie's impetuosity and daring. But they were both pleased at the
discovery that they were to be near neighbors throughout the summer.
Stella's home was next-door to Grandma Sherwood's, although, as both
country places were so large, the houses were some distance apart.
Next beyond Stella's house, Marjorie remembered, was where Molly
Moss lived, and so the outlook seemed to promise plenty of pleasant
company.
About three o'clock in the afternoon the train reached Morristown, and
springing out on the platform, Marjorie soon spied Grandma
Sherwood's carriage there to meet them. Old Moses was still in charge
of the horses, as he had been ever since Marjorie could remember, and
in a moment she heard a hearty voice cry, "Oh, there you are!" and

there was Uncle Steve waiting for them on the platform.
Uncle