“They don’t know what they’re going
to do!” said Mary Jane gayly.
But, dear me, Mary Jane didn’t know what she
was going to do! If she had even guessed what
was to happen to her before she came back home—but
she didn’t and perhaps it was just as well she
didn’t; knowing might have spoiled the fun!
Clearwater was a pretty little stream that ran through
the woods just west of the city where the Merrills
lived. And as the Merrill home was on the west
side of the city, the woods and the creek were not
far from their home. To reach Clearwater they
only had to walk through the Campus just west of their
yard, cut through the fields back beyond and after
a walk of less than a mile they would find themselves
by the bank of a swift running creek of clear fresh
water. And along the banks of this little creek
grew the loveliest violets and buttercups and Sweet
Williams that could be found anywhere.
Mary Jane held her precious basket firmly and walked
along beside her mother while the big girls skipped
on ahead.
But when the girls reached the banks of Clearwater
they waited till Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane caught
up with them.
“Now keep your eyes open for flowers,”
called Alice as they started on again, all together
this time, “we don’t want to miss any.”
“What are we to do with them when we’ve
picked them?” asked Frances as they walked along.
“You won’t get more than a bunch before
lunch, I fancy,” said Mrs. Merrill, “so
you can hold them in your hand till we find where we
will eat. Then, after lunch, you can dampen your
napkin and wrap up the stems and put your posies in
the bottom of your basket. That is,” she
added slyly, “unless you have a lot of food
to take back home.”
“Not much danger of that!” laughed Frances.
“I could eat more than I have in there right
this very minute!”
So, laughing and joking and picking the blossoms they
found as they walked, the little party walked along
the creek till they came to a bend where the creek
widened a bit and where some big bowlders made an interest
looking spot.
“This is the very place I was looking for!”
exclaimed Mrs. Merrill. “I couldn’t
recall just how far down the creek it was! Suppose
we make this our headquarters. Set your baskets
on that biggest rock over there—that will
keep your food high and dry. That flat rock will
be our table and these two rocks here,” pointing
to two angle-shaped rocks that formed a big V, “will
be just right for making a fire.”
“A fire!” exclaimed Alice. “What
do we want with a fire?”
“Oh, I thought it might be fun to make one,”
said Mrs. Merrill indifferently, “but of course
if you don’t care to—”
“But we do, Mrs. Merrill,” interrupted
Ruth, “I think it would be jolly.”
“So do I,” said Alice hastily, “only
I was wishing we had thought of it before and had
brought along something to cook.”
