“Do you realize that this is your very own dollar
that you are giving me?” asked Mrs. Merrill,
and Doris eyed Mary Jane’s wealth with surprised
eyes.
“Yes, mother, I know it is mine, mine that I
was saving for a big doll, but I don’t want
to spoil Alice’s party, truly I don’t!
Please let me go buy some more eggs for her cake!”
“I believe you really want to,” said Mrs.
Merrill, as she slipped her arm around the eager little
girl, “and I believe it’s the best thing
to do. You didn’t realize that you were
taking something that you had no right to when you
took those ‘clouds’ for the doll house,
did you, Mary Jane?”
“’Deed I didn’t, mother, and please
may we get the eggs now?”
Mrs. Merrill looked at her watch. “There
will be just time if you go right away, dear,”
she said; “come the back way and I’ll give
you a basket to carry them in so none will be broken.
And get eight, that’s all you took—I’ll
buy the yellows from you so you will still have a good
deal left from your dollar.”
The two little girls skipped down to the grocery in
a hurry but they didn’t hurry home—no,
sir! They walked slowly and carefully so that
not an egg was even cracked.
And by the time they got home and gave Amanda the
eggs and saw them all opened and divided, the whites
on a platter and the yellows in a bowl, the big whistles
blew for noon and Doris had to go home.
Mary Jane went with her as far as the gate and then
waited under the little mulberry tree till her father
came home for his lunch.
“Well, this is fine,” said Mr. Merrill
as he tossed her up onto his shoulder. “I
like to see my little girl waiting for me. And
what have you learned this morning, pussy?”
“I learned that eggs aren’t clouds and
that they cost money,” said Mary Jane, “and
I didn’t spoil the party!”
“Pretty good for one morning, say I,”
laughed father, and he carried her on into the house.
The evening after Alice’s party, Mr. and Mrs.
Merrill held a long conference and as a result a surprise
awaited Mary Jane when she came to the breakfast table
the next morning.
“Do you know of anybody who has a birthday next
week?” asked Mr. Merrill as he kissed her good
morning.
“I do, and I’m five years old,”
replied Mary Jane, “and that’s pretty old!”
“Goodness! I should say it was!”
exclaimed Mr. Merrill. “It’s so old
I can hardly imagine it. And I think, Mrs. Merrill,
something ought to be done about it.” As
he looked solemnly across the table at his wife, his
eyes twinkled merrily and Mary Jane knew by their
look that something nice was coming.
“I’m sure I don’t know anything
to do about it,” began Mrs. Merrill (and Mary
Jane noticed that her eyes twinkled too) “unless,
perhaps, we might have a party?”
“A party?” exclaimed Mary Jane, “a
PARTY? A really for sure enough party all just
for me?”
