Marjorie's Busy Days Part 32

"No, Kitsie, you're not; and I don't want you to drive me crazy, either.

You're three of the most delightful children I ever met, and whenever I can pull you out of your sc.r.a.pes I'm only too glad to do so. I may as well tell you at once that Mr. Fulton and I fixed up this Imp Society matter very satisfactorily; and if you don't start in to lay a new asphalt road, or build a cathedral, I think I can keep up with you."

"How did you fix it, Father?" asked Marjorie, brightening with renewed interest, as she learned that the trouble was over.

"Oh! I told the gentlemen who were most interested that if they didn't like the way my children improved this village that they'd better do the improving themselves. And they said they would."

"Really, Father?"

"Really, King. So now you're all well out of it, and I want you to stay out. Unless they ask for your a.s.sistance, later on; and I doubt if they'll do that, for between you and me they don't seem to approve of your methods."

"I think it was dreadful for the children to write those letters," said Mrs. Maynard. "And I don't think, Ed, that you've quite explained to them how very wrong it was."

"Perhaps not," said Mr. Maynard, "but can't we leave that part of the subject till some other time? For my part, I'm quite exhausted scolding these young reprobates, and I'd like a change to smiles instead of tears. And somehow I have a growing conviction that they'll never do it again. Will you, chickabiddies?"

"No, sir!" came in a hearty chorus.

"Of course they won't," said Mrs. Maynard, laughing. "It will be some other ridiculous freak. But I'll be glad to drop the subject for the present, too, and have a pleasant half-hour before it's bedtime for babes."

"And aren't we to be punished?" asked Marjorie, in surprise.

"Not exactly punished," said her father, smiling at her. "I think I shall give you a severe scolding every night for a week, and then see if you're not little paragons of perfection, every one of you."

"I'm not afraid of your scolding," said Marjorie, contentedly cuddling close to her father; "but I thought maybe--perhaps--you'd want us to apologize to those people who were so angry."

"I did that for you, dearie. What's the use of having a father if he can't get you out of a sc.r.a.pe now and then? And now let's roast some chestnuts, and pop some corn, and have all sorts of fun."

CHAPTER XVI

ROSY POSY'S CHOICE

It was time to decide the momentous question of where the next Ourday should be spent.

Already it was Wednesday, and on Sat.u.r.day the Maynards would have their November Ourday. It was Rosy Posy's turn to choose, but as her selections were usually either vague or impossible, the other children were not backward in offering suggestions to help the little one out.

This time, however, Rosamond was quite positive in her opinion.

When her father asked her where she wanted to go for a day's outing, she at once responded, "To Bongzoo."

"To Bongzoo!" exclaimed Mr. Maynard. "Where in the world is that? Or what is it? It sounds as though it might be either French or Choctaw."

"Ess," said Rosy Posy, "we'll all go to Bongzoo; me an' muvver, an' all of us, an' Daddy, too."

"And how do we get there, Baby? Walk, ride, or swim?"

"I don' know," said Rosy Posy. "But Marjorie knows. She told me to say 'Go to Bongzoo,' so I said it."

Then the laugh was on Marjorie.

"Oho!" said Mr. Maynard. "So Mopsy's been electioneering all right. Out with it, Midge. What does Baby mean by Bongzoo?"

"She means the Bronx Zoo," said Marjorie. "I thought we'd all like to see the animals there. But it isn't my turn to choose, so I told Rosy Posy to choose that."

"An' I do!" declared the child, stoutly. "I choose Bongzoo, an' I wants to go there."

"I think it's a fine place to go," said Mr. Maynard. "What made you think of it, Midge?"

"One of the girls at school went there some time ago, and she told us all about it; and, oh, Father, it's beautiful! All lions and tigers and waterlilies and Florida trees!"

"I doubt if the waterlilies are in bloom just now, but I'm sure the tigers are flouris.h.i.+ng. Well, I'm for the Zoo. Will you go, Mother?"

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Maynard; "I don't want to miss such a fine-sounding Ourday as that."

"I think it's great!" declared King. "Bob Carson says the birds are wonderful, and the alligators walk around on the gra.s.s."

"Oh!" cried Kitty, "then I don't want to go. I wouldn't meet an alligator for anything!"

"They have their own gra.s.s plat, Kitsie," said her father. "They don't trespa.s.s on the gra.s.s reserved for visitors."

So the Ourday was unanimously settled, and, as that sort of a trip involved little preparation, there was nothing to do but hope for pleasant weather.

"Though if it rains," said Marjorie, comfortably, "Father will fix up something nice for us in the house."

But Sat.u.r.day turned out to be a lovely day, and the Maynard family took an early train for New York City, in order to make their stay at the Zoo as long as possible.

They did not invite any other guests, as Mr. and Mrs. Maynard thought their own four children responsibility enough.

The young people greatly enjoyed the journey in the train, and across the ferry, and then Rosy Posy asked that they might go in what she called the "Cellarway." She meant the Subway, and, as this was a quick way to reach Bronx Park, Mr. Maynard consented. The children were of enthusiastic natures, and inclined to be conversational, but the noise of the Subway trains drowned their voices, and, for once, they were obliged to be silent. But when they reached their destination, and entered the beautiful park, their tongues were loosed again, and they kept up a running fire of chatter.

Rosy Posy trotted along by her mother's side, King and Kitty walked together, and Midget pretended to walk by her father's side, but really danced back and forth from one to another. They visited the Botanical Park first, and as the early November day was clear and cold, they were not sorry to step into the warm greenhouses.

Marjorie specially liked the great jungles of Florida and other southern vegetation. The banyan trees and giant palms reached up to the high ceiling, and the luxuriant foliage and brilliant blossoms made northern plants seem dwarfed beside them. It was an instructive experience, as well as an entertaining one, for Mr. Maynard called the children's attention to the printed names on the plants, and, though they could not remember all of them, they learned a great many.

"It's fun to study botany this way," said Marjorie, as her father showed her the strange Mexican cacti, and told her about the deserts where they grow.

King nearly scared Kitty out of her wits by pretending there was a great snake writhing among the dark-leaved reeds, but almost immediately she discovered it was only a rubber hose, and she laughed with the rest.

There were many greenhouses, but after they had been through most of them, Mr. Maynard proposed that they have an early luncheon, and then go to see the animals.

So they went to the picturesque restaurant, and the six travellers suddenly discovered they were both tired and hungry.

"But an hour's rest and some good food will make us all over anew," said Mr. Maynard, "and then we'll be quite ready to call on the lions and the tigers."

"Is this Bongzoo?" asked Rosy Posy, after she had been comfortably placed in a high chair almost like her own at home.

"Well, this is the place where they feed the animals," said her father, "and as you're a little kitten, I suppose you'll have some milk?"