Search:
A \ B \ C \ D \ E \ F \ G \ H \ I \ J \ K \ L \ M \ N \ O \ P \ R \ S \ T \ U \ V \ W \Z

Mary Jane Her Visit by Clara Ingram Judson

C >> Clara Ingram Judson >> Mary Jane Her Visit

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7



So she and Grandmother put away the grain basket and went into the
house.




THE HUNT FOR EGGS

"Now then," said Grandmother when they got into the kitchen, "while I
get dinner, we'll talk."

"But what's the matter?" asked Mary Jane.

"Matter where?" questioned Grandmother. "I don't see anything the
matter!"

"What's the matter out there?" said Mary Jane, pointing out the door to
the chicken yard where they had just been; "something's happened."

Grandmother stepped over to the door where Mary Jane was standing and
looked out. "Oh!" she exclaimed, for she saw in a minute what Mary
Jane meant, "that noise?"

Mary Jane nodded.

"That noise means that an egg has been laid," explained Grandmother,
smiling, "and that Mrs. Hen is very proud of it and wants us to know
what she has done."

"Oh!" cried Mary Jane happily, "and then you go out and get them in a
basket just like mother told me she used to do? May I go now?"

"Better not start before dinner," suggested Grandmother, "because
sometimes egg-hunting takes quite a little time. Wait till you get
through dinner and then you may hunt all afternoon if you
like--egg-hunting is fun!"

So the minute she was through with her apple dumplings, Mary Jane
asked, "And now, please, may I get the eggs?"

"Got you hunting eggs already?" asked Grandfather. "Well, I wonder if
you'll like it as well as your mother used to. Have you your basket?"

"Not yet," said Grandmother. "I mean to let her get it herself.
She'll feel more at home when she begins to find her way around alone.
If you locked the pigs in, she can go anywhere she likes all alone."

"They're locked up fast," Grandfather assured her--much to Mary Jane's
relief.

"Then, Mary Jane," continued Grandmother, "you go out to the barn and
up the little ladder you'll find in the middle of the barn. And in the
loft somewhere, I'm sure you'll see it easily, you'll find a little,
covered basket. It's the very one your mother and your Aunt Cornelia
used to carry egg-hunting. If it's too dusty, bring it here, and I'll
clean it for you. Now run along, Pet," added Grandmother with a kiss
for the up-turned face, "and don't be long. I'll miss my little girl."

Just as Mary Jane opened the screen door to go out, a beautiful big
black and brown dog came running up to the door.

"Well, Bob!" exclaimed Grandmother, "where have you been all morning?
I wanted Mary Jane to get acquainted with you right away and you
weren't anywhere around! Mary Jane, this is Bob, our good dog, and
he's the best creature friend a little girl can make." She stepped out
of the door with Mary Jane and they both sat down on the steps and
talked to Bob. Mary Jane liked him from the first. He had such a
pretty face and such friendly, kind eyes and he looked as though he
would be good to little girls.

"May he go with me to the barn?" she asked.

"Indeed, yes," replied Grandmother. "You just start along and watch
him follow you! He'll go wherever you go from now on. You won't even
have to call him!"

Mary Jane jumped up and, just as Grandmother said, Bob jumped up from
the steps too and together they started off to the barn.

"Can you climb up a ladder?" asked Mary Jane gayly, as she skipped
along by Bob. "I can climb a ladder all by myself! I did it one day
when Mother hung curtains."

But dear me! When Mary Jane saw the steep ladder that went up to the
barn loft she wasn't so sure she could climb a ladder after, all! She
had been thinking of a nice little step-ladder such as her mother had
and this was a steep, narrow ladder made of funny little pieces of wood
nailed on to narrow strips that were fastened to the barn. Not a bit
like any ladder Mary Jane had ever seen before.

"But the basket's up there, Bob," said Mary Jane, glad of some one to
think aloud to, "and my grandmother she wouldn't tell me to go up if I
couldn't, so I guess I'll try."

She put one foot on the ladder and then the other. "Why, it's just
like climbing a gate only it isn't a gate," she announced proudly, "and
I'm way up a'ready!"

It was easy to step from the ladder to the loft because the sides of
the ladder went on up high and she simply held tight to them and
stepped off onto the floor Of the loft.

And _that_ was the funniest place Mary Jane had ever seen! Hay
everywhere, and a pleasant, fragrant smell that pleased Mary Jane even
though she hadn't an idea why. She looked around a minute and then
hunted for the basket.

Over in the corner, under a funny little, cobwebby window she found it,
half hidden by the tossed up hay.

She recognized it at once because of the curious little cover
Grandmother had spoken of. But, dear me, Grandmother would surely have
to clean it before it was used for cobwebs and scraps of hay were all
over the top!

"I wonder if the cover comes off, or just opens like a door," thought
Mary Jane as she bent over it. "I guess I'd better see."

She moved the cover the tiniest bit and found it was fastened to one
side. "It's like a box," she said aloud, "and it opens easy, I know!"

She opened it out and what _do_ you suppose she saw down in the bottom
of that basket? You'd never guess!

Four of the cunningest little gray mice! All snuggled down together
into a little ball of fur--Mary Jane would never have guessed there
were four, they were so tiny, only she saw the four little black noses
and four pairs of beady black eyes.

"You darlingest!" she exclaimed happily, and sat right down in the hay
beside the basket to watch them. She reached her finger in and touched
their silky little backs; she watched them snuggle down tight and
tighter together and she altogether forgot about Bob and egg-hunting
and Grandmother and everything, she was so delighted. But Bob didn't
forget about her, not he.

For a while he waited patiently at the bottom of the ladder. He seemed
to know that she might have to hunt a while for the basket. But as the
minutes went by and she didn't come and didn't come, he grew more and
more restless. He whined, and he walked around the barn and he looked
out the door. Then he came back to the foot of the ladder and put his
front feet on the highest step he could reach.

But still there was no sign of Mary Jane coming down. And for her
part, the little girl was so interested in her mice that she wouldn't
have noticed had he barked out loud.

Finally he could stand it no longer. With a sudden turn, as though he
had quickly made up his mind something must be done, he ran out of the
barn and up to the kitchen door.

Grandmother Hodges saw him and supposed Mary Jane was with him so she
called kindly, "Did you find the basket, dear?"

No answer.

"Bring it in here for me to dust it off, Mary Jane," she added.

No answer.

"That's funny," she exclaimed; "what ails the child?" And she stepped
to the door to see why Mary Jane didn't answer.

That was exactly what Bob wanted her to do. The minute he saw she was
coming to the door he bounded off in the direction of the barn.

Grandmother understood at once, as Bob had known she would, and without
even stopping to drop the tea towel she had in her hand she followed
him out to the barn.

Bob ran ahead, turning two or three times to make sure she was coming,
till he reached the foot of the ladder. There he danced around as
though he was trying to say, "Now I've brought you here, do see what's
the matter!"

"Is she up there yet, Bob?" asked Grandmother wonderingly. Then she
called, "Mary Jane! Mary Jane! Mary Jane!"

"Oh, Grandmother!" replied the little girl, hearing for the first time,
"they're the cunningest! Do come see!"

"Whatever has the child found!" she exclaimed, but she went up the
ladder just the same to make sure Mary Jane was happy.

It wasn't more than a minute before Grandmother, too, was down in the
hay, admiring the little mice till even Mary Jane was satisfied.
"You're a good one," she said, "to find such a nice family right away.
This old basket's been here for years, but that looks like a brand new
nest and a brand new family. You'll have something to tell your sister
about when she comes now, won't you?"

"And may I take them down to the house?" asked Mary Jane.

"Look behind you and see if you want to," answered Grandmother.

Mary Jane turned and looked as she was told and she saw, peeping out
from behind the hay, the distressed face of mother mouse. Poor thing!
She was _so_ afraid something terrible was happening to her babies!

"No, I don't want to," said Mary Jane promptly. "I want to keep them
right here and come up and see them whenever I want to."

"That's best," agreed Grandmother. "You come with me and I'll find you
another basket and then you and Bob and I will hunt eggs."

So that is the way Mary Jane happened to have a pretty, brand new, pink
basket for hunting eggs: and that's why they were so late getting the
eggs that it was almost supper time before they were through.




THE MYSTERIOUS BUNDLES

For three days after Mary Jane came to visit her grandparents, the sun
shone bright and warm and the little girl spent all the time out of
doors. She raced around the yard with Bob; she played with the lamb in
the wood across the road; she watched her grandfather feed the little
pigs; she fed the chickens and hunted eggs. And, the most fun of all,
she watched the baby mice in the dusky, sweet-smelling hay loft. Till,
really, by the time she had had her supper of bread and milk, Mary Jane
was ready to tumble into bed and sleep straight through the night
without ever a thought of being homesick.

But the minute she awakened on the morning of the fourth day, Mary Jane
knew that something was different. The sun wasn't shining across her
coverlet as it had before; and from the window came the sound of
dripping, dripping, dripping rain. The kind of rain that you love if
everybody's indoors and can stay in and the fire's going brightly and
Mother's near to talk to. And also the kind of rain that makes you
feel very queer if you know Mother's hundreds of miles away and you
aren't going to see her for a good many weeks.

Mary Jane felt a queer feeling in her throat. Suddenly she tossed the
covers back, picked up her clothes so quickly she didn't even stop to
see if she had both stockings, and ran into her grandmother's room.
"I'm _not_ going to cry, so there!" she said to herself hastily.

"Well, good morning," said Grandmother cheerfully. "That's nice to
dress in here! I was just wishing I had company."

"Does rain make you feel like you wanted somebody right close?" asked
Mary Jane.

"Every time," agreed Grandmother. "And sometimes, when your
grandfather's working out in the barn, and Bob's out there with him,
and I'm all alone in the house, I just wish and wish I had a little
girl about your size here to talk to. I'm so glad you're come, Mary
Jane, you're such good company!"

And immediately, would you believe it? Mary Jane forgot all about
being homesick and maybe going to cry, and began wondering what she
could do for her grandmother!

"What are we going to do to-day, Grandmother?" she asked as they went
down the stairs together.

"Let me see," said Grandmother thoughtfully, looking at the little
girl. "First, of course, we'll get breakfast--wouldn't you like fresh
corn bread and maple syrup?" Mary Jane nodded happily, for she liked
Grandmother's corn bread. "Then we'll do the dishes and make the
beds--but that won't take long with you helping me. Then we'll peel
the potatoes and start the meat cooking for dinner. Then we'll--by the
way, Mary Jane," she asked suddenly, "what have you in those two
packages in your trunk?"

Mary Jane stared at her grandmother a minute and tried to think
whatever she might mean. Then she remembered. "Those two bundles
wrapped up in brown paper and tied and everything?"

"Those are the ones," nodded Grandmother. "I saw them the other
morning when I unpacked your trunk but we were in a hurry to get-out
doors then so I didn't ask about them. What are they?"

"I don't know," said Mary Jane. "Mother put them in and she said you'd
understand. She said just let you see and you'd know what she meant."

"Then I guess I know," said Grandmother, laughing. "We have to look at
them!"

"Let's go now," said Mary Jane.

"Oh, my no," replied Grandmother, "before breakfast? I should say not!
We'll do all the things we planned to do, right straight through the
plan. Then we'll get those bundles and see if I can guess what your
mother meant."

Mary Jane liked the good breakfast Grandmother prepared and she loved
helping set the table and clear it off and help with the work like a
grown-up person, but she was glad when at last everything was done and
she and Grandmother went up the stairs to look at those mysterious
bundles.

"You get the bundles out of your trunk, Mary Jane," said Grandmother,
"and I'll get my glasses."

"Then shall we go down' to the sitting-room?" asked Mary Jane.

"No, we'll stay right up here," said Grandmother, smiling, "because
unless I miss my guess, we'll want to be up here before we're through
anyway."

That puzzled Mary Jane more than ever because, in all the three days
she had been there. Grandmother had never sat upstairs, but always in
her big rocker at the bay window in the room they called the
sitting-room. She hurried to her room, raised the cover of her little
trunk and turned it way back so it wouldn't fall on her. Then she
reached in and got out the two bundles, and hurried back to
Grandmother's room.

"There's some writing on them," she announced.

"Then I expect that will help us guess what we are to do with them,"
said Grandmother, and she adjusted her glasses. "Let's see what it
says." She read off the first one, "'This is the way Mary Jane learns
to sew.' Shall we open this first, Mary Jane?" she asked, "or shall we
read what the other one says?"

"Oh, I know, I know! I know!" cried Mary Jane, clapping her hands. "I
know what that is, Grandmother, only I came away in such a hurry that I
forgot all about it! It's a present for you--I made it all myself!
Let's open it first."

"A present for me?" asked Grandmother. "I guess we will open it
first." And she carefully undid the string, opened out the paper and
looked inside. "A picture card! My dear little girl!" she exclaimed,
"and you did it all yourself?"

"All myself," said Mary Jane proudly, and she leaned up against her
grandmother and pointed out the perfections. "See? It's a picture of
a little girl, that's me, and she's raking her garden. And here," she
picked up another one, "this is a picture of a butterfly that flies
over the garden. I did one of a little girl, that's me, with a pink
sunbonnet and one with a sunflower and I sent those to my Aunt Effie.
And these are for you."

"I certainly am pleased," said Grandmother heartily and she kissed Mary
Jane once for each card. "And what else have we here?"

"That's my sewing things," said Mary Jane as she opened out the rest of
the package; "that's my needle case and my thread and my cards to sew."

"Then let's have a sewing day," suggested Grandmother, "and you sew
your cards and I'll do my mending."

"But first let's open the other bundle," suggested Mary Jane, who, like
Grandmother, had forgotten it for the minute. "I don't know what it's
got inside."

"We'll see," said Grandmother, and she read on the outside, "'I wish I
had more.'"

"That's funny," said Mary Jane, "more what?"

"Wait and see," replied Grandmother, and Mary Jane noticed that her
eyes twinkled. "She needn't have worried, I have plenty." And she
undid the bundle.

"Why! Why--how funny!" exclaimed Mary Jane when she saw what the
bundle contained. "That isn't anything! Why did Mother send those?
They're just scraps."

"Not scraps, dear," said Grandmother, and, much to Mary Jane's
surprise, she seemed very pleased, "pieces. They're pieces for a
quilt. Your mother always was crazy about my quilts."

"But those aren't quilts," insisted Mary Jane. "Those are just rolls
out of the scrap bag--I've seen them there. That's a piece of my
rompers," she added, pointing to a roll of blue, "and that's my best
pink gingham, and that's Alice's new school dress."

"So much the better," laughed Grandmother. "When you know what things
are from, your quilt is more interesting. Let's put these on the bed
while you come with me to the linen room and see what a quilt is."

They went down the hall to a queer little room that had shelves from
the floor to the ceiling and on every shelf was bedding of some sort.
Grandmother took down a quilt from the middle shelf and spread it out
on the floor. "There, Mary Jane," she said, "look at that! There's a
piece of your mother's first short dress and a piece of her mother's
graduating dress--that pink sprigged scrap; and that's your Uncle Tom's
shirt waist; and--well, don't you see? There they are; all the
'scraps' as you call them cut into pieces and made into a quilt. I've
always promised that your mother should have this some day. I think
I'll have to send it to her now if she's raising a girl who don't know
what a quilt is!"

Mary Jane got down on her hands and knees and looked at each piece.
"Oh, I know now!" she suddenly exclaimed, "I remember! Mother made one
for her doll bed when she was a little girl and it had a piece like
this with a red horse shoe in it."

"To be sure," said Grandmother much pleased. "Did she show it to you?"

"Yes, only I disremembered for a while," said Mary Jane solemnly. "She
showed it to me the day we sewed. She made it when she was a little
girl about as old as me, maybe, because they didn't have nice sewing
cards then."

"Yes, she made it when she was visiting me, one summer, just as you are
here now," said Grandmother thoughtfully.

"Oh, Grandmother," cried Mary Jane suddenly, and she was so excited she
sat up straight and tall, "I'll tell you what let's do to-day!"

"Well," said Grandmother, kindly.

"Let's me make a quilt."

"Fine!" said Grandmother, "only you know you can't make it all in one
day--it takes a long time to make a quilt, a good quilt."

"Let's begin it then," said Mary Jane, "and let's make it all pretty
like this."

"I'll put this away," replied Grandmother, "and then I'll get my piece
bag and see what I have that goes well with what your mother sent.
Then we'll make a pattern and cut our pieces--you see, there's a lot to
quilt-making before the sewing begins."

[Illustration: "We'll make a pattern and cut out our pieces--there's a
lot to quilt-making."]

"Goody!" cried Mary Jane happily, "I know I'm going to like it all!"

And she did.

She liked the hunting out pretty pieces and cutting them out (yes, she
did some of that herself, cutting carefully by the little pattern
Grandmother made for her) and counting them and pinning them together:
four blues with five pink, or four figured with five plain; everything
was four and five.

Then, when material was ready for seven blocks, Grandmother said they
had done enough cutting for one day. So they gathered up the pinned
together blocks and went downstairs to the cozy sitting-room and sewed
the rest of the morning. And while they sewed Grandmother told stories
about when Mary Jane's mother was a little girl and came to visit.

Right in the middle of a fine story, Grandfather came into the room and
asked, "Isn't there going to be any dinner to-day?" And sure enough it
was five minutes to twelve o'clock!

Grandmother jumped up and hurried to the kitchen and Grandfather said,
"Well, isn't it too bad it's a rainy day?"

"Rainy?" exclaimed Mary Jane, for she'd forgotten all about the rain
and her lonesomeness of the early morning. "Rainy? Why, Grandfather!
Rainy days are the best days of all when they're days at Grandmother's
house!"




GARDENING WITH GRANDFATHER

"This sewing business and feeding chickens and watching mice is all
very well," said Grandfather one day, "but I'd like to know where I
come in? If it wasn't for having good company at meal time and for
about ten minutes after supper in the evening, I'd never guess I had a
little granddaughter visiting me--I wouldn't, indeed!"

Mary Jane looked very serious. She wasn't quite certain sure whether
Grandfather was really disappointed in her or whether he was only
teasing.

Grandmother saw she was puzzled and helped her out by saying, "Very
well, Mr. Hodges, then you should find something your little great
granddaughter likes to do!" And from the way Grandmother's eyes
twinkled, Mary Jane knew that she understood Grandfather was only
teasing. And, oh, dear, but she was relieved! It's fine to go
visiting; but it's dreadful to be visiting and disappoint folks; and
Mary Jane was glad to know she hadn't.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, my dear," laughed Grandfather. "I'm
finding something."

"Are you really, Grandfather," cried Mary Jane happily. "Let's go do
it now! I'm all through my dessert; may I please be excused,
Grandmother?" and Mary Jane prepared to slip down from her chair.

"No use," said Grandfather with a shake of his head. "It isn't ready
yet."

"Not ready?" echoed Mary Jane. "Does it have to be ready before we do
it?"

"It surely does," laughed Grandfather, "That's the reason we haven't
done it before."

"But I think I'll like it without being ready," suggested Mary Jane as
she went around to his chair. "Let's see if I wouldn't."

"No, sir, you can't tease me that way, Pussy," laughed Grandfather.
"You'll have to wait."

"Is it alive?" asked Mary Jane, who by this time was fairly bubbling
over with curiosity.

"Well, yes," replied Grandfather and he chuckled to himself in high
glee.

"Is it big as me?" asked Mary Jane.

"One way 'tis and another way 'tisn't," said Grandfather.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Mary Jane, "that's the kind I never can guess!"
Then she thought carefully for a real good question. "Is it brown or
gray?"

Grandfather leaned back and laughed. When he finally could answer he
said, "It's partly grayish brown and some day it may be all brown for
a' I know."

"Then it isn't a mouse and it isn't a lamb," said Mary Jane positively,
"and that's all I can think of now."

"That's a good thing," said Grandmother, "for there's the postman and I
surely expect a letter from your mother to-day."

One of the things that Mary Jane most loved to do was to run out front
when the rural mail carrier came along in his little wagon and watch
him put the mail in the box out in front of her grandfather's house.
Usually they spied him way down the road just about the time they were
through dinner and Mary Jane would run out and watch him. The first
time he saw her he handed the mail out to her and that disappointed her
greatly. She had wanted to see him put the mail in the box as
Grandfather had told her he would. So on the second day, Grandfather
went out with her and explained to the carrier that little girls from
the city liked mail that came in boxes better than mail that was just
handed in city fashion. And after that, the carrier smiled and nodded
to her each time and then tucked the mail as carefully into the box as
though he didn't know she would take it out the first minute he was out
of sight.

"I'll go down with you," said Grandfather, rising quickly from the
table, "because I'm expecting a letter too."

Sure enough! There was a letter for Grandmother that looked very much
as though it came from Mary Jane's mother; and a letter for Grandfather
that looked to be exactly the same letter! There wasn't a mite of
difference so far as Mary Jane could see, except in the one Grandfather
said was his, the first word was shorter. And there was a letter for
Mary Jane too, the first letter she ever received from her mother.

They all three sat down on the front steps to read. First Mary Jane
opened hers and Grandmother helped her read it. "I'm going to learn to
read myself," declared Mary Jane, "'cause folks that get letters ought
to know how to read them."

"You're right they should," agreed Grandmother, "and I shouldn't wonder
a bit but what a certain little girl I know would go to school this
fall."

"And that little girl's me?" asked Mary Jane.

"That little girl's you," said Grandmother. "Now listen while I read
my letter."

So Mary Jane sat real still and heard Grandmother's letter.

"Now then, Father," said Grandmother as she folded hers up and put it
back in the envelope, "we'll hear yours, Grandfather."

"Not right now," said Grandfather, rising suddenly and starting for the
barn. "I'm too busy to stop any more." And that was the last they saw
of him all afternoon.

"I do think that's the queerest," said Grandmother as she looked after
her husband. "He's always so anxious to hear letters and I know he
isn't as busy as he makes out. But if he don't want to tell he won't,
Mary Jane, so I guess we'd better stop thinking about it."

Mary Jane ran up to her room to put her precious letter away for
safe-keeping. Then she and Grandmother tidied up the dinner work and
dressed for afternoon. Grandmother didn't have lots of hard work to
do, as some farm folks have, for she and Grandfather had long ago
stopped doing the hardest work on the farm. They rented out most of
their land and kept for themselves only enough garden and chicken yard
and pasture to make them feel comfortably busy. So Grandmother had
plenty of time for pleasant walks and rides with Mary Jane.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Copyright (c) 2007. bestextbooks.com. All rights reserved.

Tell us your literary dreams
Articles published by guardian.co.uk Books

John Crace digests A Question of Upbringing by Anthony Powell

My English teacher is wearing a barrister's wig. He turns and points towards me as I sit trembling in the dock. "Members of the jury, I put it to you that this man, Tom Robinson, is innocent," he says, rather lugubriously. I want to protest. I want to shout that no, I am not Tom Robinson, but yes, I am innocent! But the words won't come out.

Then I wake up. It's another literary dream – one that's troubled me ever since I studied Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird for GCSE.

Most of the time I'm disappointed to leave my literary dreams, waking to realise that I'm not really ensconced with with the boozing Welsh pensioners from Kingsley Amis's The Old Devils or haven't really been thrashing Harry Potter's Quidditch team. I remember with fondness a skiing trip with William Shakespeare and the delightful discovery that Don DeLillo was serving drinks behind the bar in my local pub.

It's not all sunshine, though. Tom Wolfe once ruined a trip to New York, shouting at me across Fifth Avenue: "You're not even familiar with my work – get outta town, asshole!" But that's nothing on Howard Jacobson. I spent a summer discovering his novels during my waking hours and bumping into him in my sleep. I'd see him in a local restaurant and tell him how much I was enjoying his novels. "Oh right," he'd snap, "that old chestnut, huh?" When I met him for real last year he was, in fact, charm personified. I didn't tell him about the dreams.

But enough about my subconscious, what about yours? It's Friday: forget about work and tell me all about your literary dreams. Don't hold back – it's not like we'll read anything into it.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2009 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds

1000 Novels You Must Read

John Crace tangoes briefly through the first part of A Dance to the Music of Time