Marjorie's Maytime

by Carolyn Wells

  CHAPTER XIV

  A MERRY JOKE

  The next morning, while Marjorie was dressing, she heard a greatcommotion in the halls. Peeping out her door she saw maids running hitherand thither with anxious, worried faces. She heard her grandmother'svoice in troubled accents, and Grandfather seemed to be trying to sootheher.

  Naughty Marjorie well knew what it was all about, and chuckled with gleeas she finished dressing, and went down to breakfast.

  She found the family assembled in the breakfast room, and Grandma Maynardtelling the story. "Yes," she said, "I knew perfectly well that to havethese children in the house, with their noise and racket, would so get onmy nerves that it would turn my hair white, and it has done so!"

  Marjorie looked at Grandma Maynard's hair, and though not entirelywhite, it was evenly gray all over. As she had laid her head on herplentifully-powdered pillow, and perhaps restlessly moved it about, thepowder had distributed itself pretty evenly, and the result was a head ofgray hair instead of the rich brown tresses of the night before.

  Her son and daughter-in-law could not believe that this effect was causedby the disturbance made by their own children; but far less did theysuspect the truth of the matter. Whatever opinions the various members ofthe family held as to the cause of the phenomenon, not one of themsuspected Marjorie's hand in the matter.

  As for Midget herself, she was convulsed with glee, although she did notshow it. Never had she played a joke which had turned out so amazinglywell, and the very fact that neither Kitty nor King knew anything aboutit lessened the danger of detection.

  "It seems incredible," Grandma went on, "that this thing should reallyhappen to me, for I've so often feared it might; and then to think itshould come because the visit of my own grandchildren was so upsetting tomy nerves!"

  "Nonsense, Mother," said her son, "it couldn't have been that! It isn'tpossible that the children, no matter how much they carried on, wouldhave any such effect as that!"

  "You may say so, Ed; but look at the effect, and then judge for yourself;what is your explanation of this disaster that has come to me?"

  "I don't know, I'm sure, Mother,--but it couldn't be what you suggest.I've heard of such an accident happening to people, but I never believedit before. Now I'm forced to admit it must be true. What do you think,Helen?"

  Mrs. Maynard looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she said slowly, "but itmust be the symptom of some disease or illness that has suddenly attackedMother Maynard."

  "But I'm perfectly well," declared the older lady; "and a thing like thisdoesn't happen without some reason; and there's no reason for it, exceptsome great mental disturbance, and I've had nothing of that sort exceptthe visit of these children! Ed, you'll have to take them away."

  "I think I shall have to," said Mr. Maynard, gravely. It was a greattrial to him that his parents could not look more leniently upon hischildren. He had rarely brought them to visit their grandparents, becauseit always made his mother nervous and irritable. But it was too absurd tothink that such nervousness and irritation could cause her brown hair toturn almost white, a proceeding which he had always thought was a merefigure of speech anyway.

  Breakfast proceeded in an uncomfortable silence. It was useless to try toconsole Grandma Maynard, or to make her think that the gray hair wasbecoming to her. Indeed, everything that was said only made her moredisconsolate about the fate which had overtaken her, and more annoyed atthe children, whom she considered to blame.

  At last, sharp-eyed, practical Kitty volunteered the solution. She hadsat for some time watching her grandmother, and at last she felt surethat she saw grains of powder fall from the gray hair to the shoulder ofGrandma's gown. When she was fully convinced that this was the case, shelooked straight at the victim of misfortune and said, "Grandma, I thinkyou are playing a trick on us. I think you have powdered your hair, andyou are only pretending it has turned gray."

  "What do you mean, Kitty, child?" said her father, in amazement, for italmost seemed as if Kitty were rebuking her grandmother.

  "Why, just look, Father! There is powder shaking down on Grandma'sshoulder."

  "Nonsense!" cried Grandma, angrily. "I'd be likely to do a thing likethat, wouldn't I, Miss Kitty? And indeed, if it _were_ powder, and couldbe brushed out, and leave my hair its natural color, I should be only toograteful!"

  This was Marjorie's chance. She loved to make a sensation, and layingdown her knife and fork, she said, quietly, "Kitty is right, Grandma; it_is_ nothing but powder, and I put it there myself."

  "What!" exclaimed Grandma. "Do you mean to say, Marjorie, that youpowdered my hair? How did you do it? Oh, child, if you are telling me thetruth, if it is really only powder, I shall be so relieved that I willmake you a handsome present!"

  This was a new turn of affairs, indeed! Marjorie had had misgivings as tothe results of her practical joke, but it had seemed to her merely aharmless jest, and she had hoped that it might be taken lightly. But whenGrandma expressed such consternation at her whitened hair, Marjorie hadbeen shaking in her shoes, lest she should be punished, rather thanlaughed at for her trick. And now to be offered a beautiful present wasastonishing, truly! The ways of grownups were surely not to be countedupon!

  With lightened spirits, then, and with sparkling eyes, Marjorie completedher confession. "Yes," she went on, "after you said last night that youb'lieved us children could turn your hair white in a single night, Ithought I'd make believe we did. So,--and you know, Grandma, you told meI could stay around in your room for a while, and look at your prettythings,--so, when I saw that queer sort of a powder-shaker I couldn'thelp playing with it. And then when I saw your bed all fixed so nice forthe night, I thought it would be fun to powder your pillow. I've heardof people doing it before. I didn't make it up myself. So I shook thepowder all over your pillow, and then of course you put your head on it,and of course it made your hair white."

  Marjorie's parents looked aghast, for to them it seemed as if she hadsimply played a practical joke on her grandmother, and one not easilyforgiven, but Grandpa Maynard expressed himself in a series of chuckles.

  "Chip of the old block," he said. "Chip of the old block! Just what youwould have done, Ed, when you were a boy, if you had thought of it!Marjorie, practical jokes run in the family, and you can't help yourpropensity for them! I don't approve of them, mind you, I don't approveof them, but once in a while when one works out so perfectly, I can'thelp enjoying it. What do you say, Mother?"

  He turned to his wife, and to the surprise of all, she was beaming withjoy. It was not so much her enjoyment of the joke as her relief atfinding that her hair had not turned gray, and could easily be restoredto its beautiful brown.

  "I'm quite sure I ought to be annoyed," she said, smiling at Marjorie."I'm almost certain I ought to be very angry, and I know you ought to bepunished. But none of these things are going to happen. I'm so glad thatit is only a joke that I forgive the little jokemaker, and as I promised,I will give you a present as an expression of my gratitude."

  And so the breakfast ended amid general hilarity, and afterward Grandmatook Marjorie up to her own room, and they had a little quiet talk.

  "I don't want you to misunderstand me, dear," she said, "for practicaljokes are not liked by most people, and they're not a nice amusement fora little girl. But, I'm afraid, Marjorie, that I have been too harsh andstern with you, and so I think we can even things up this way. I willpass over the rudeness and impertinence of your deed, if you will promiseme not to make a practice of such jokes throughout your life. Or atleast, we will say, on older people. I suppose a good-natured joke onyour schoolfellows now and then does no real harm; but I want you topromise me never again to play such a trick on your elders."

  "I do promise, Grandma; and I want to tell you that your kindness to memakes me feel more ashamed of my naughty trick than if you had punishedme. You see, Grandma, I do these things without thinking,--I mean withoutthinking hard enough. When the notion flies into my head it seems sofunny that I
just _have_ to go on and do it! But I _am_ trying toimprove, and I don't cut up as many jinks as I used to."

  "That's a good girl. Marjorie, I believe you'll make a fine woman, and Iwish I could have the training of you. How would you like to come andlive with me?"

  "That's funny, Grandma," said Midget, laughing, "after all you've saidabout your not wanting us children in the house."

  "I know it; and I can't stand the whole lot of you at once, but I reallydo believe, Marjorie, that I'll take you and bring you up. I shallspeak to your father and mother about it at once."

  "Oh, Grandma, don't!" And Marjorie clasped her hands, with a look ofhorror on her face. "_Don't_ ask me to leave Mother and Father! AndKing, and Kitty, and the baby! Why, Grandma, I _couldn't_ do it, any morethan I could fly!"

  "Why not? You don't realize all I could do for you. We live much morehandsomely than you do at home, and I would give you everything youwanted."

  "But, Grandma, all those things wouldn't make any difference if I had toleave my dear people! Why, do you really s'pose I'd even _think_ of sucha thing! Why, I couldn't _live_ without my own father and mother! I loveyou and Grandpa, and since you've been so kind and forgiving thismorning, I love you a lot more than I did; but, my goodness, gracious,sakes, I'd never live with anybody but my own special particular bunch ofMaynards!"

  "It's a question you can't decide for yourself, child. I shall speak toyour parents about it, and they will appreciate better than you do theadvantages it would mean for you to follow out my plan. Now I will giveyou the present I promised you, and I think it will be this very samesilver powder-box. You probably do not use powder, but it is a prettyornament to set on your dressing table, and I want you to let it remindyou of your promise not to play practical jokes."

  "Oh, thank you, Grandma," said Marjorie, as she took the pretty trinket;"I'm glad to have it, because it is so pretty. And I will remember mypromise, and somehow I feel sure I'm going to keep it."

  "I think you will, dear, and now you may run away for the present, as Iam going to be busy."

  Marjorie found King and Kitty in the billiard room, waiting for her.

  "Well, you are the limit!" exclaimed King. "How did you ever dare cut upthat trick, Mops? You got out of it pretty lucky, but I trembled in myboots at first. I don't see how you dared play a joke on Grandma Maynardof all people!"

  "Why didn't you tell us about it?" asked Kitty. "Oh, did she give youthat lovely powder-box?"

  "Yes," laughed Marjorie, "as a reward for being naughty! And she's goingto reward me further. What do you think? She's going to take me to livewith her!"

  "What!" cried King and Kitty, in the same breath. And then King graspedMarjorie by the arm. "You shan't go!" he cried. "I won't let you!"

  "I won't either!" cried Kitty, grasping her other arm. "Why, Mops, wesimply couldn't live without you!"

  "I know it, you old goosey! And I couldn't live without you! The idea! Asif any of us four Maynards could get along without any of each other!"

  "I just guess we couldn't!" exclaimed King, and then as far as thechildren were concerned, the subject was dropped.