Marjorie at Seacote

by Carolyn Wells

  MARJORIE AT SEACOTE

  by

  CAROLYN WELLS

  Author of the "Patty" Books

  "MOST LIEGE MAJESTY," BEGAN KING, BOWING SO LOW THATHIS SHOULDER CAPE FELL OFF. (_page 60_)]

  Grosset & DunlapPublishers New YorkCopyright, 1912, byDodd, Mead and Company

  * * * * *

  BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  PATTY SERIES

  PATTY FAIRFIELD PATTY AT HOME PATTY IN THE CITY PATTY'S SUMMER DAYS PATTY IN PARIS PATTY'S FRIENDS PATTY'S PLEASURE TRIP PATTY'S SUCCESS PATTY'S MOTOR CAR

  MARJORIE SERIES

  MARJORIE'S VACATION MARJORIE'S BUSY DAYS MARJORIE'S NEW FRIEND MARJORIE IN COMMAND MARJORIE'S MAYTIME

  * * * * *

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I KITTY'S DINNER 1

  II TOM, DICK, AND HARRY 16

  III THE SAND CLUB 30

  IV SAND COURT 44

  V "THE JOLLY SANDBOY" 58

  VI TWO WELCOME GUESTS 72

  VII THE GLORIOUS FOURTH 86

  VIII A REVELATION 101

  IX THE SEARCH 115

  X JESSICA BROWN 129

  XI THE REUNION 144

  XII A LETTER OF THANKS 158

  XIII THIRTEEN! 174

  XIV QUEEN HESTER 189

  XV A MOTOR RIDE 204

  XVI RED GERANIUMS 218

  XVII WHAT HESTER DID 232

  XVIII A FINE GAME 247

  XIX MORE FUN 263

  XX A CELEBRATION 275

  MARJORIE AT SEACOTE

  CHAPTER I

  KITTY'S DINNER

  "Kitty-Cat Kitty is going away, Going to Grandma's, all summer to stay. And so all the Maynards will weep and will bawl, Till Kitty-Cat Kitty comes home in the fall."

  This affecting ditty was being sung with great gusto by King andMarjorie, while Kitty, her mood divided between smiles and tears, wasquietly appreciative.

  The very next day, Kitty was to start for Morristown, to spend thesummer with Grandma Sherwood, and to-night the "Farewell Feast" was tobe celebrated.

  Every year one of the Maynard children spent the summer months withtheir grandmother, and this year it was Kitty's turn. The visit wasalways a pleasant one, and greatly enjoyed by the small visitor, butthere was always a wrench at parting, for the Maynard family wereaffectionate and deeply devoted to one another.

  The night before the departure was always celebrated by a festival offarewell, and at this feast tokens were presented, and speeches made,and songs sung, all of which went far to dispel sad or gloomy feelings.

  The Maynards were fond of singing. They were willing to sing"ready-made" songs, and often did, but they liked better to make upsongs of their own, sometimes using familiar tunes and sometimesinventing an air as they went along. Even if not quite in keeping withthe rules for classic music, these airs were pleasing in their own ears,and that was all that was necessary.

  So, when King and Midget composed the touching lines which head thischapter and sang them to the tune of "The Campbells are Coming," theywere so pleased that they repeated them many times.

  This served to pass pleasantly the half-hour that must yet elapse beforedinner would be announced.

  "Well, Kit," remarked Kingdon, in a breathing pause between songs,"we'll miss you lots, o' course, but you'll have a gay old time atGrandma's. That Molly Moss is a whole team in herself."

  "She's heaps of fun, Kitsie," said Marjorie, "but she's chock-a-blockfull of mischief. But you won't tumble head over heels into all hermischiefs, like I did! 'Member how I sprained my ankle, sliding down thebarn roof with her?"

  "No, of course I wouldn't do anything like that," agreed the sedateKitty. "But we'll have lots of fun with that tree-house; I'm going tosit up there and read, on pleasant days."

  "H'm,--lucky,--you know what, King!"

  "H'm,--yes! Keep still, Mops. You'll give it away."

  "Oh, a secret about a present," cried Kitty; "something for thetree-house, I know!"

  "Maybe 'tis, and maybe 'tain't," answered King, with a mysterious winkat Marjorie.

  "Me buyed present for Kitty," said Rosamond, smiling sweetly; "gold an'blue,--oh, a bootiful present."

  "Hush, hush, Rosy Posy, you mustn't tell," said her brother. "Presentsare always surprises. Hey, girls, here's Father!"

  Mr. Maynard's appearance was usually a signal for a grand rush, followedby a series of bear hugs and a general scramble, but to-night, owing tofestive attire, the Maynard quartette were a little more demure.

  "Look out for my hair-ribbons, King!" cried Midget, for without suchwarning, hair-ribbons usually felt first the effects of thegood-natured scrimmage.

  And then Mrs. Maynard appeared, her pretty rose-colored gown of softsilk trailing behind her on the floor.

  "What a dandy mother!" exclaimed King; "all dressed up, and a flower inher hair!"

  This line sounded singable to Marjorie, so she tuned up:

  "All dressed up, and a flower in her hair, To give her a hug, I wouldn't dare; For she would feel pretty bad, I think, If anything happened to that there pink!"

  Then King added a refrain, and in a moment they had all joined hands andwere dancing round Mrs. Maynard and singing:

  "Hooray, hooray, for our mother fair! Hooray, hooray, for the flower in her hair! All over the hills and far away, There's no one so sweet as Mothery May!"

  Being accustomed to boisterous adulation from her children, Mrs. Maynardbore her honors gracefully, and then they all went out to dinner.

  As Maiden of Honor, Kitty was escorted by her father; next came Mrs.Maynard and Kingdon, and then Marjorie and Rosy Posy. The table hadextra decorations of flowers and pink-shaded candles, and at Kitty'splace was a fascinating looking lot of tissue-papered and ribbon-tiedparcels.

  "Isn't it funny," said sedate and philosophical Kitty, "I love to go toGrandma's, and yet I hate to leave you all, and yet, I can't do onewithout doing the other!"

  "'Tis strange, indeed, Kit!" agreed her father; "as Mr. Shakespearesays, 'Yet every sweet with sour is tempered still.' Life is likelemonade, sour and sweet both."

  "It's good enough," said Kitty, contentedly, looking at her array ofbundles. "I guess I'll open these now."

  "That's what they're there for," said Mrs. Maynard, so Kitty excitedlybegan to untie the ribbons.

  "I'll go slowly," she said, pulling gently at a ribbon bow, "thenthey'll last longer."

  "Now, isn't that just like you, Kit!" exclaimed Marjorie. "I'd snatchthe papers off so fast you couldn't see me jerk."

  "I know you would," said Kitty, simply.

  The sisters were very unlike, for Midget's ways were impulsive andimpatient, while Kitty was slow and careful. But finally the papers cameoff, and revealed the lovely gifts.

  Mrs. Maynard had made a pretty silk workbag, which could be spread out,or gathered up close on its ribbon. When outspread, it showed a store ofneedles and thread, of buttons, hooks, tapes,--everything a little girlcould need to keep her clothes in order.

  "Oh, Mother, it's _perfect_!" cried Kitty, ecstatically. "I _love_ thosecunning little pockets, with all _sewy_ things in them! And a darlingsilver thimble! And a silver tape measure, and a silver-topped emery!Oh, I do believe I'll sew _all_ the time this s
ummer!"

  "Pooh, _I_ wouldn't!" said Marjorie. "The things _are_ lovely, but I'drather play than sew."

  "Sewing _is_ play, I think," and Kitty fingered over her treasureslovingly. "Grandma will help me with my patterns, and I'm going to piecea silk teachest quilt. Oh, Mother, it will be _such_ fun!"

  "Call _that_ fun!" and Marjorie looked disdainfully at her sister. "Funis racing around and playing tag, and cutting up jinks generally!"

  "For you it is," Kitty agreed, amiably, "but not for me. I like what Ilike."

  "That's good philosophy, Kitty," said her father. "Stick to it always.Like what you like, and don't be bothered by other people's comments oropinions. Now, what's in that smallish, flattish, whitish parcel?"

  The parcel in question proved to be a watch, a dear little gold watch.Kitty had never owned one before, and it almost took her breath away.

  "Mine?" she exclaimed, in wonder. "All mine?"

  "Yes, every bit yours," said Mr. Maynard, smiling at her. "Every wheeland spring, every one of its three hands, every one of its twelve hoursare all, all yours. Do you like it?"

  "Like it! I can't think of any words to tell you how much I like it."

  "I'll think of some for you," said the accommodating Marjorie. "Youcould say it's the grandest, gloriousest, gorgeousest, magnificentestpresent you ever had!"

  "Yes, I could say that," Kitty agreed, "but I never should have thoughtof it. I 'most always say a thing is lovely. Now, what in the world isthis?"

  "This" proved to be a well-stocked portfolio, the gift of King. Therewere notepaper and envelopes and a pen and pencils and stamps andeverything to write letters with.

  "I picked out all the things myself," King explained, "because it'snicer that way than the ready furnished ones. Do you like it, Kit?"

  "Yes, indeedy! And I shall write my first letter to you, because yougave it to me."

  "Oh, Kitty-Cat Kit, a letter she writ, And sent it away, to her brother one day,"

  chanted Marjorie, and, as was their custom, they all sang the song afterher, some several times over.

  "Now for mine," Midget said, as Kitty slowly untied the next parcel. Itwas two volumes of Fairy Tales, which literature was Kitty's favoritereading.

  "Oh, lovely!" she exclaimed. "On summer afternoons you can think of me,sitting out in the tree-house reading these. I shall pretend I'm a FairyPrincess. These are beautiful stories, I can see that already."

  Kitty's quick eye had caught an interesting page, and forgetting allelse, she became absorbed in the book at once. In a moment, the page wasturned, and Kitty read on and on, oblivious to time or place.

  "Hi, there, Kitsie! Come out o' that!" cried King. "You can read allsummer,--_now_ you must associate with your family."

  "I didn't mean to," said Kitty, shutting the book quickly, and lookinground apologetically; "but it's all about a fairy godmother, and alovely princess lady,--oh, Mopsy, it's _fine_!"

  A pair of little blue enamelled pins was Rosamond's present, and Kittypinned them on her shoulders at once, to see how they looked. Allpronounced the effect excellent, and Rosy Posy clapped her little fathands in glee.

  "Mine's the prettiest present!" she said. "Mine's the booflest!"

  "Yes, Babykins," said Kitty, "yours is the booflest,--but they're alllovely."

  The Farewell Feast included all of Kitty's favorite dishes, and as mostof them were also favorites with the other children, it was satisfactoryall round.

  "You must write to us often, Kit," said King; "I gave you those writingthings so you'd be sure to."

  "Yes, I will; but I don't know yet where you're all going to be."

  "I don't know yet myself," said Mr. Maynard, "but it will be somewherenear the sea, if possible. Will you like the seashore, Kiddies,--youthat are going?"

  "I shall," said Marjorie, promptly. "I'll _love_ it. May we go bathingevery day? And can I have a bathing suit,--red, trimmed with white?"

  "I 'spect you can," said her mother, smiling at her. "What color do youwant, King?"

  "Oh, I think dark blue would suit my manly beauty! What are you going tohave, Father?"

  "I think dark blue will be our choice, my boy. It swims better thananything else. But first we must find a roof to cover our heads. I'veabout decided on one,--if I can get it. It's a bungalow."

  "What's a bungalow?" asked Marjorie. "I never heard of such a thing."

  "Ho, ho! Never heard of a bungalow!" said King. "Why, a bungalow isa,--is a,----"

  "Well, is a what?" asked Midget, impatiently.

  "Why, it's a bungalow! That's what it is."

  "Fine definition, King!" said his father. "But since you undertook to doso, see if you can't give its meaning better than that. What _is_ abungalow?"

  "Well, let me see. It's a house,--I guess it's a low, one-storied house,and that's why they call it bungalow. Is that it?"

  "You're right about the one story; the rest is, I think, your owninvention. Originally, the bungalow was the sort of a house they have inIndia, a one-storied affair, with a thatched roof, and verandas allround it. But the ones they build now, in this country, are often muchmore elaborate than that. Sometimes they have one story, sometimesmore. The one I'm trying to get for the summer is at Seacote, and it'swhat they call a story and a half. That is, it has an upper floor, butthe rooms are under a slanting roof, and have dormer windows."

  "Sounds good to me," said King. "Do you think you'll catch it, Dad?"

  "I hope so. Some other person has the refusal of it, but he's doubtfulabout taking it. So it may yet fall to our lot."

  "I hope so!" cried Marjorie. "At the seashore for a whole summer! My!what fun! Can we dig in the sand?"

  "Well, rather, my child! That's what the sand is there for. Kitty, youwere at the seashore last summer. Did you dig in the sand?"

  "Yes, every day; and it was lovely. But this year I'm glad I'm going toGrandma's. It's more restful."

  They all laughed at Kitty's desire for rest, and Marjorie said:

  "_I_ didn't have such a restful time at Grandma's. Except when Isprained my ankle,--I rested enough then! But you won't do anything likethat, Kit!"

  "I hope not, I'm sure. Nor I won't fall down the well, either!"

  "Oh, we didn't _fall_ down the well. We just _went_ down, to get cooledoff."

  "Well, I'm not going to try it. I shall sit in the tree-house and readevery afternoon, and sew with Grandma in the mornings."

  "Kit, you're a dormouse," said Kingdon; "I believe you'd like to sleephalf the year."

  "'Deed I wouldn't. Just because I don't like rambunctious play doesn'tmean I want to sleep all the time! Does it, Father?"

  "Not a bit of it. But you children must 'like what you like' and notcomment on others' 'likes.' See?"

  "Yes, sir," said King, understanding the kindly rebuke. "Hullo, Kit,here's one of your best 'likes'! Here's pink ice-cream coming!"

  This was indeed one of Kitty's dearest "likes," and as none of theMaynards disliked it, it rapidly disappeared.

  "Now, we'll have an entertainment," said King as, after dinner, they allwent back to the pleasant living-room. "As Kitty is the chief pebble onthe beach this evening, she shall choose what sort of an entertainment.Games, or what?"

  "No, just a real entertainment," said Kitty; "a programme one, you know.Each one must sing a song or speak a piece, or something like that._I'll_ be the audience, and you can all be performers."

  "All right," said King; "I'll be master of ceremonies. I'll make up theprogramme as I go along. Ladies and gentlemen, our first number will bea speech by the Honorable Edward Maynard. Mr. Maynard will please stepforward."

  Mr. Maynard stepped. Assuming a pompous air, he made a low bow, first toKitty, and then to the others.

  "My dear friends," he said, "we are gathered here together this eveningto extend our farewells and our hearty good wishes to the lady about toleave us. Sister, thou art mild and lovely, and we hate to see thee go;but the best of friends must sever, and you'll soon come
back, you know.Listen now to our advices. Kitty, dear, for pity's sake, do not tumblein the river,--do not tumble in the lake. Many more things I could tellyou as I talk in lovely rhyme, but I think it is my duty to let othersshare the time."

  Mr. Maynard sat down amid great applause, and Kitty said, earnestly,"You are a lovely poet, Father. I wish you'd give up your otherbusiness, and just write books of poetry."

  "I'm afraid, Kitsie, we wouldn't have enough money for pink ice-cream inthat case," said Mr. Maynard, laughing.

  "The next performeress will be Mrs. Maynard," announced the master ofceremonies.

  Mother Maynard rose, smiling, and with all the airs and graces of aprima donna, went to the piano. Striking a few preliminary chords, shebegan to sing:

  "Good-bye, Kitty; good-bye, Kitty; good-bye, Kitty, You're going to leave us now. Merrily we say good-bye, Say good-bye, say good-bye; Merrily we say good-bye To sister Kitty-Kit."

  This had a pleasant jingle, and was repeated by the whole assembly withfine effect and a large volume of noise.

  "Miss Marjorie Maynard will now favor us," was the next announcement.

  "This is a poem I made up myself," said Midget, modestly, "and I thinkit's very nice:

  "When Kitty goes to Grandma's I hope she will be good; And be a lady-girl and do Exactly as she should. 'Cause when _I go_ to Grandma's, I act exceeding bad; I track up 'Liza's nice clean floor, And make her hopping mad!"

  Marjorie's poem was applauded with cheers, as they all recognized itsinherent truth.

  "We next come to Miss Rosamond Maynard," King went on, "but as she hasfallen asleep, I will ask that the audience kindly excuse her."

  The audience kindly did so, and as it was getting near everybody'sbedtime,--at least, for children,--the whole quartette was startedbedward, and went away singing:

  "Good-bye, Kitty, you're going to leave us now"--