Mary Jane: Her Book | Page 7

better or even as good as the first try; for the water, instead of coming down on the apple tree, came straight and wet onto Mary Jane herself! She was so startled that she screamed and dropped the hose without a thought of the robins she had meant to help.
And then there was a commotion! Mr. Merrill, who had come home for some papers he had forgotten, came running around the house; Father Robin darted out from the hedge and made straight for his nest; Mother Robin hurried up from the pine tree in Doris's yard and Mrs. Merrill, tea towel still in hand, ran out from the back porch.
"What ever is the matter?" she cried.
"I was just giving the baby robins a drink," sputtered Mary Jane, "and they didn't seem to like it!"
Mrs. Merrill gathered her into her arms, wetness and all, and held her close. "I thought something had happened to my little girl," she said. "You must come in and get dry clothes on, dear; then I'll tell you more about the babies and you'll understand why they don't like too much water."
"And _I'll_ tell you something," said father. "If you like to learn about creatures and everything that grows, you meet me here at the back door step at five o'clock this afternoon and I'll tell you a secret."
"Oh, goody!" cried Mary Jane, as she clapped her wet hands. "Can't you tell it to me now?"
"I should say not!" said father importantly, "it's a secret! You'll have to wait till five o'clock!" And he hurried off to his work leaving Mary Jane to a day of wondering what might be coming--a pleasant sort of wondering, for father's secrets were always jolly ones.

FATHER'S SECRET
Mary Jane thought that five o'clock would never come--never! She looked at the clock and looked at the clock and she asked mother and Alice to tell her the time so as to be sure she herself wasn't mistaken in what the clock said. But finally lunch time was passed, and rest time, and then Mary Jane knew it wouldn't be very long till five o'clock.
"Now, I'm going to dress for my secret," she said when her rest was finished.
"That's just what I came to see you about," said Mrs. Merrill, who came into Mary Jane's room at that minute, "you'd better put on this little dress." And she held up a little, old, dark blue morning dress--not at all the sort of dress that a little girl would wear to an afternoon secret, Mary Jane was sure of that.
"Why, mother!" exclaimed the little girl, "you don't mean me to wear that!"
"I surely do," said Mrs. Merrill, pleasantly; "it's just the right kind of a dress for this secret."
"But Daddah's secret is a nice secret," said Mary Jane positively.
"His secrets always are," agreed her mother.
"And nice secrets ought to have nice dresses," said Mary Jane.
"Nice secrets ought to have dresses that belong to them," corrected Mrs. Merrill. "We don't talk about things that are decided," reminded Mrs. Merrill. "Put on the blue dress and come downstairs, Mary Jane. I'm sure you will be glad--when father comes home."
So Mary Jane put on the blue dress, but she wasn't very happy about it; she felt sure, certain all the time that she was dressing, that Daddah would be disappointed when he saw her. And she began to wonder if the secret was so very wonderful after all; it didn't sound so wonderful if an old dress went with it--in the afternoon!
But even though she was disappointed and a bit doubtful, she went down to the front porch and sat on the step where she could see father the minute he turned the corner of Fifth Street.
"Isn't this a fine day to be out of doors!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill, contentedly. "See Mr. Robin out there, digging away for his family? He has a hard time hunting worms in the grass. I expect he wishes we had a newly dug garden around this place." Mary Jane looked up indifferently, just in time to see a twinkle in her mother's eye. Did the twinkle have anything to do with the secret? Mary Jane wondered.
"What would he do with a garden?" she asked.
"Get worms out of it," answered Mrs. Merrill.
"But isn't he getting worms out of the yard?" asked Mary Jane, looking out to where the robin was industriously pecking at the ground.
"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Merrill, "of course he is; but see how he has to work! Now if that yard was all dug up nicely for a garden, the worms would be plain to see and all he would have to do would be to pick them out. Think how much easier that would be."
Mary Jane didn't answer. She looked out at the robin, but someway, she couldn't