CHAPTER XVIII
IN BOSTON
The next day the Maynards started for Boston. That is, their destinationwas Boston, but Mr. and Mrs. Maynard had decided to go by very shortstages, and stop several times on the way.
And so they spent one night at New London, two or three more at Newportand Narragansett Pier, and so on to Boston.
It was too early in the season for the summer crowds at the wateringplaces, but though the gay life was absent, they enjoyed their stay ateach place.
It was all so novel to the children that the days passed like a swiftlymoving panorama, and they went from one scene to another, always sure ofexperiencing some new pleasure.
* * * * *
One warm and pleasant afternoon the big car swung into Boston, anddeposited its occupants at a pleasant hotel on a broad and beautifulavenue.
As Mr. Maynard registered at the office, the clerk handed him a budget ofmail. It was not unusual for him to find letters awaiting him at thevarious hotels, but this time there were also four post-cards for thechildren.
"Who can have written to us?" exclaimed Marjorie, as she took hers. "Idon't know this hand-writing; I'm sure I never saw it before."
She turned the card over, and saw a picture of the State House, one ofBoston's principal places of interest. Beneath the picture was written:
"Please come and visit me;I am the place you want to see."
"How funny," said Marjorie. "Who could have sent it? Is it anadvertisement, Father?"
"No, Midget, The State House doesn't have to advertise itself! What isyours, King?"
"Mine is a picture of the Public Library, and this has a verse under it,too. It says:
"How do you think you like my looks?Beautiful pictures and wonderful books!"
"These are lots of fun, whoever sent them," said Kitty. "Listen to mine.It's a picture of Faneuil Hall. Under it is written:
"Do not think you have seen allUntil you have visited Faneuil Hall!"
"And Rosy Posy has one, too," said Marjorie. "Let sister read it, dear."
"Yes, Middy wead my post-card," and the baby handed it over.
"This is a lovely one," said Marjorie. "See, it's all bright-coloredflowers, and it says:
"The Boston Common's bright and gay,With tulips in a brave array."
"Sure enough," said Mrs. Maynard, "the tulips must be in bloom now, andto-morrow we must go to see them."
"Oh, what lovely times we are having!" cried Marjorie. "How long are wegoing to stay in Boston, Father?"
"Long enough, at any rate, to see all these sights suggested by yourpost-cards. And I may as well tell you, children, that the cards weresent by Mr. Bryant, a friend of mine in Cambridge; and we are going tovisit at his house when we leave here."
"Have we ever seen him?" asked Marjorie.
"Only when you were very small children; not since you can remember. Butthey are delightful people, and indeed are distant cousins of yourmother. I can assure you you'll have a good time at their home."
"We seem to have good times everywhere," said Marjorie, with a happylittle sigh of content. "This has been the most beautiful May ever was!And a real Maynard May, because we've all been together all the time!"
"May for the Maynards, and the Maynards for May," sang King, and they allrepeated the line, which was one of their favorite mottoes.
"Maytime is a lovely time, anyway, isn't it, Father?" said Marjorie.
"Yes, unless it rains," Mr. Maynard replied, smiling.
"Well, we've had awful little rain since we started," commented Marjorie;"just a little shower now and then, and that's all."
"Maytime is playtime for us this year, sure enough," said her father; "Ihope you children realize that these are all Ourdays, and you're pilingup enough of them to last for two or three years ahead."
"Oh, they don't count that way, do they?" cried Kitty, in such dismaythat her father laughed.
"Don't worry, Kitsie," he said. "I guess we can squeeze out a few Ourdaysin the future. Meantime, enjoy your Maytime while you may."
And this the Maynard family proceeded to do. They spent several days inBoston, seeing the sights of the town, and making little excursions tothe suburbs and nearby places of interest.
They visited the Public Library, and studied the wonderful paintingsthere. They went to the State House, and Faneuil Hall, and Mr. Maynardshowed the children so many interesting relics, and taught them so muchinteresting New England history that Marjorie declared he was quite asgood a teacher as Miss Hart.
They spent much time in the Public Gardens and on the Common, for theMaynard children dearly loved to be out of doors, and the flowers intheir masses of bloom were enchanting.
Indeed, there was so much of interest to see that Marjorie felt almostsorry when the time came to go to Cambridge for their visit at Mr. andMrs. Bryant's. But her father told her that on their return fromCambridge they could, if they wished, spend a few more days in Boston.
And so, one afternoon, the Maynards drove away from the hotel in theircar, and crossed the Charles River to Cambridge.
The Bryants' home was a fine, large estate not far from Harvard College.
"Another college!" exclaimed Marjorie, as they passed the UniversityBuildings. "Can we go through this one, Father, as we did through Yale?"
"Yes," said Mr. Maynard, "and then King can make a choice of which hewants to attend."
"I think I know already," returned King; "but I won't tell you yet, for Imay change my mind."
As they turned in at the gateway of the Bryants' home they foundthemselves on a long avenue, bordered with magnificent trees. This led tothe house, and on the veranda their host and hostess stood awaiting them.
"You dear people! I'm so glad to see you; jump right out, and come in,"exclaimed Mrs. Bryant, as the car stopped. She was a pretty, vivaciouslittle lady, with cordial hospitality beaming from her gray eyes, and Mr.Bryant, a tall, dark-haired man, was no less enthusiastic in hisgreetings.
"Hello, Ed," he cried. "Mighty glad to see you here! Hope we can give youa good time! I know we can make it pleasant for you grownups, but it'sthe kiddies I'm thinking about. I told Ethel she must just devote herselfto their entertainment all the time they're here. She's laid in a lot ofplaythings for them, and they must just consider that the house is theirown, and they can do whatever they like from attic to cellar! How many?Four? That's what I thought. I don't know their names, but I'll learnthem later. Here, jump up, Peter, Susan, Mehitabel,--or whatever yournames are,--and let me see how you look!"
As jovial Mr. Bryant had been talking, he had lifted the children fromthe car. He paid little attention to them individually, seeming to thinkthey were mere infants.
Mrs. Bryant was chatting away at the same time. "Is this Marjorie?"she said. "My, what a big girl! When I last saw her she was only sixor seven. And Kingdon,--almost a young man, I declare! Kitty, Iremember,--but this little chunk of sweetness I never saw before!"
She picked up Rosy Posy in her arms, and the little one smiled and pattedher cheek, for Mrs. Bryant had a taking way with children, and theyalways loved her.
Marjorie couldn't help thinking what a contrast this greeting was totheir reception at Grandma Maynard's, but she also realized that theBryants were much younger people, and apparently were very fond ofchildren.
Altogether, it was a most satisfactory welcome, and the Maynards troopedinto the house, with that comfortable feeling always bestowed by a warmreception.
"Now, I'll take you girlies upstairs," Mrs. Bryant chatted on, takingMarjorie and Kitty each by a hand; "and I'll brush your hair and washyour paddies, and fix you up all nice for supper."
Marjorie couldn't help laughing at this.
"Don't let us make you too much trouble, Mrs. Bryant," she said. "Youknow we're quite big girls, and we tie each other's ribbons."
"Bless me! Is that so? But you musn't call me Mrs. Bryant! I'm CousinEthel, and Mr. Bryant is Cousin Jack, and if you call us any
thing moreformal than that, we'll feel terribly offended!"
And then Cousin Ethel bustled away to look after her other guests,leaving Midget and Kitty to take care of themselves.
She had given them a delightful room, large and sunshiny, with a sort ofa tower bay-window on one corner. The carpet was sprinkled with littlerosebuds, and the wall-paper matched it. Some of the chairs and the couchwere covered with chintz, and that, too, had little rosebuds all overit. The curtains at the windows were of frilled white muslin, and thedressing table had all sorts of dainty and pretty appointments. Therewere twin brass beds, and on the foot of each was a fluffy, rolledcoverlet, with more pink rosebuds.
"What a darling room!" exclaimed Marjorie, as she looked around. "Oh,Kit, isn't it pretty?"
"Lovely!" agreed Kitty. "And Cousin Ethel is a darling, too. I love heralready! We're going to have a beautiful time here, Mops."
"Yes, indeedy! I wish we were going to stay all summer. Kit, this is aperfect May room, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's so flowery and bright. What are we going to wear, Mops?"
"White dresses, I s'pose. Our trunk is here, you see."
"And let's wear our Dresden sashes and ribbons,--then we'll match thisrosebuddy room."
And so when Cousin Ethel returned to her young guests, she found them allspick and span, in their dainty white frocks and pretty ribbons.
"Bless your sweet hearts!" she cried, kissing them both. "You look likeSpring Beauties! Come on downstairs with me."
She put an arm around each of the girls, and they all went down the broadstaircase. In the hall below they met Cousin Jack, who looked at themwith an expression of disappointment on his face.
"Well!" he said. "Well, Susan and Mehitabel,--I'm surprised at you!"
"What's the matter?" asked Marjorie, who could not imagine what CousinJack meant. Kitty, too, looked disturbed, for since Cousin Ethel hadapproved of their pretty dresses, she could not think what Cousin Jackwas criticising.
"The idea," he went on, "of you girls coming down dressed like that!"
"What do you mean, Jack?" asked his wife, "I'm sure these darlings looklovely."
"Yes, they do," and Mr. Bryant's tone was distinctly aggrieved; "but, yousee, I thought we'd play Indians,--and who could play Indians with suchdressed-up poppets as these?"
Cousin Ethel laughed. "Oh, that's all right," she said. "Of course youcan't play Indians to-night, but you can play it all day to-morrow.And now, I think supper is ready. We usually have dinner at night, butwe're having supper on account of you children."
"You're awfully good to us, Cousin Ethel," said Marjorie, appreciatively."We do sit up to dinner at home, unless there are guests."
"Well, I'll see that you get enough to eat, whether it's supper ordinner," Cousin Jack assured them, and then, the others having arrived,they all went to the dining-room.
The supper, besides being substantial and satisfying, seemed to includealmost everything that appealed to the children's tastes; and when atlast the ice cream appeared, Kitty's look of supreme content convincedCousin Ethel that the meal had been wisely ordered.
After supper they all went into the large living room, and Cousin Jackproceeded to entertain them.
"At what time do you have to go to bed, Mehitabel?" he asked of Marjorie,whom, for no reason at all, he persisted in calling by that ridiculousname.
"They must go by nine o'clock," said Mrs. Maynard, answering the questionherself. "The three older ones may sit up until then."
"All right, Madam Maynard; then I shall devote my attention to the threeuntil their bedtime, after which I may be able to chat a little whilewith you and Ed."
Cousin Jack was as good as his word, and entertained the childrenzealously until nine o'clock. He arranged a magic lantern show, and asthe pictures were very funny, and Cousin Jack's description of themfunnier still, the young Maynards were kept in peals of laughter, inwhich the older part of the audience often joined.
After this, he let them listen to a large talking-machine, and as many ofthe records were humorous songs or comical dialogues, there was morelaughter and hilarity.
Nine o'clock came all too soon, and the children trooped off to bed,regretfully.
"Shoo!" cried Cousin Jack, as the clock struck, "shoo, every one of you!Scamper, Mehitabel! Fly, Susannah! And hustle, Hezekiah!"
With Cousin Jack clapping his hands and issuing his peremptory orders,the children ran laughing away, and scurried upstairs.
"Did you ever see such ducky people?" said King, as he lingered in theupper hall a minute with his sisters.
"They're perfectly beautiful!" said Marjorie. "And I can hardly wait forto-morrow to come to see what Cousin Jack will do next."
"Let's go to bed," said practical Kitty, "and that'll make to-morrow comequicker. Good-night, King."
"Good-night, Kit; good-night, Mopsy," and with an affectionate tweak ofhis sisters' curls. King went away to his own room, and the girls totheirs.