Marjorie's Vacation Part 31

"It does seem so, Grandma, and I'll try to learn. Perhaps if you punish me for this I'll grow better. Punishment most always does me good."

Grandma Sherwood suppressed a smile.

"I always punish you, Midget, when you do wrong through forgetfulness, because I think punishment helps your memory. But I don't think you'll ever FORGET that you're not to go down the well again. But next time it will be some other dreadful thing; something totally different, and something that it would never occur to me to warn you against. However, I do want you to remember not to do things that endanger your life, so I think I shall punish you for this morning's performance. You may remain in your own room all the afternoon,--at least, until Uncle Steve comes home."

Grandma's command was not so much for the sake of punis.h.i.+ng Marjorie as the thought that the child really needed a quiet afternoon of rest after her experience of the morning.

Marjorie sighed a little, but accepted her fate, and after dinner went to her room to spend the afternoon. It was not a great hards.h.i.+p, for there was plenty of entertainment there, and had it been a rainy day, she could have occupied herself happily. But the knowledge that she was there as a punishment weighed on her mind, and depressed her spirits; and she wandered idly about the room, unable to take an interest in her books or toys.

Grandma looked in from time to time and gave her an encouraging smile and a few words of comfort; for, though intending to be strict with Midget, like all other grandmas, Mrs. Sherwood greatly preferred to be indulgent.

After a while Molly came over, and, as she seemed so penitent and full of remorse, Mrs. Sherwood told her that, if she chose, she might go up to Marjorie's room and share her imprisonment.

Nothing loath, Molly trotted upstairs, and the lonesome Marjorie was glad, indeed, to see her. After a short discussion of the affair of the morning, Marjorie said, with her usual inclination to keep away from disagreeable subjects: "Don't let's talk about it any more. Let's have some good fun up here. I'm so glad Grandma let you come up."

"All right," said Molly, "what shall we do?"

"Let's make paper dresses. Here's a stack of newspapers Grandma was going to throw away, and I saved them."

"Goody! What fun! Shall we pin or sew?"

"We'll pin till the pins give out, and then we'll sew."

"Paper dresses" was a favorite pastime with the children. Usually Stella was with them, and they depended a good deal on her taste and skill. But to-day they had to manage without her, and so the dresses, though fairly well made, were not the fas.h.i.+onable garments Stella turned out.

A whole double sheet of newspaper was long enough for a skirt, which, in a paper dress, was always down to the floor, like grown-up gowns, and usually had a long train. Sometimes they pasted the papers together, and sometimes pinned or sewed them, as the mood served.

The waists were often quite elaborate with surplice folds, and puffy sleeves, and wide, crushed belts.

So absorbed did they grow in their costumes that the time pa.s.sed rapidly. At last they stood, admiring each other, in their finished paper gowns, with paper accessories of fans, hats, and even parasols, which were considered great works of art.

"Let's play we're going riding in an automobile," said Molly.

"All right; what shall be the automobile--the bed?"

"No, that isn't high enough. I don't mean a private automobile, I mean one of those big touring things where you sit 'way up high."

"Let's get up on top of the wardrobe."

"No, that's too high, and the bureau isn't high enough. Let's get out on the roof and hang our feet over."

"No," said Marjorie, decidedly; "that would be getting into mischief; and besides, I promised Grandma I wouldn't leave the room. Come on, Molly, let's climb up on the wardrobe. There can't be any harm in that, and 'twill be lots of fun."

"How can we get up?"

Marjorie looked at the wardrobe and meditated. "Easy enough," she said after a moment: "we'll just put a chair on the table and climb up as nice as pie!"

The girls worked energetically, yet careful not to tear their paper costumes; and removing the things from a strong square table, they pushed it up to the wardrobe. On this they set a chair, and Marjorie volunteered to go up first, saying that, if it didn't break down with her, it surely wouldn't with Molly.

So Molly held the table firmly, while Marjorie climbed up and, though it required some scrambling, she finally reached the top of the heavy wardrobe, without more than a dozen tears in her paper dress.

"Bring up my parasol, Molly," she said, "I forgot it; and bring some papers and the scissors, and we'll make some automobile goggles."

Laden with these things, Molly briskly started to climb up. The light, wiry child sprang easily on to the table, and then on to the chair.

Marjorie lent a helping hand, but just as Molly crawled up to the top of the wardrobe, her flying foot kicked the chair over, which in turn upset the table.

"Now, you HAVE done it!" said Marjorie. "How are we going to get down?"

"It seems to me," said Molly, grimly, "that we're always getting into places where we can't get down, or can't get up, or something."

"Never mind; Jane or somebody will come along soon and set the table up again for us."

It really was great fun to play they were on a high motor car seeing New York. But after a while the game palled, and their paper dresses became torn, and the girls wanted to get down and play something else.

But neither Jane nor any one else happened to come along, and though Marjorie called a few times, n.o.body seemed to be within hearing.

"I should think we could find some way to get down," said Molly. "Can't you think of any way, Mops?"

Marjorie considered. To jump was out of the question, as it would probably mean a sprained ankle.

"I wish we had a rope ladder," she said, "and, Molly, I do believe we can make one. Not a ladder, exactly, but don't you know how people sometimes escape from prisons by tying sheets together and letting themselves down?"

"Yes, but we haven't any sheets."

"I know it, but we can take our dress skirts. Not the paper ones, but our own gingham ones. They're strong, thick stuff, and we can tie them together somehow and let ourselves down that way."

Although obliged to work in somewhat cramped quarters, the girls managed to take off their dress skirts, and, as they were very full, one of them was really sufficient to reach far enough down the side of the wardrobe to make a jump possible.

"I'll tell you what," said Marjorie: "let's tie the two together at the corners like this, and then put it right across the top of the wardrobe, and each of us slide down on opposite sides."

When the full skirts were stretched out to their greatest width and tied together by their hems, at what Marjorie called a corner, the girls flung the whole affair across the top of the wardrobe, and sure enough, the skirts hung down on either side to within four or five feet of the floor, which was quite near enough to jump.

So thick and strong was the material, there was really no danger of tearing it, and in great glee the girls grasped their life-line and half slid, half clambered down.

They came down on the floor with a sudden thump, but in safety. All would have been well had they had sense enough to let go of their gingham skirts, but, doubled up with laughter, they clung to them, with the result that a sudden and unintentional jerk forward brought the whole wardrobe over on its face, and it fell cras.h.i.+ng to the floor.

Such a racket as it made! It fell upon a small table, whose load of vases and bric-a-brac was totally wrecked. It also smashed a chair and very nearly hit the bird-cage.

And just at this moment, of all times, Uncle Steve appeared at the door!

Although dismayed at the catastrophe, Uncle Steve couldn't help laughing at the astonished faces of the two girls. For, jubilant at the success of their descent, the accompanying disaster had been thrust on them so suddenly that they scarcely knew what it all meant. And costumed as they were, in their little ruffled white petticoats, with hats and bodices made of newspaper, the sight was a comical one indeed.

"Marjorie Maynard!" exclaimed Uncle Steve, "you certainly DO beat the Dutch, and Molly lends you valuable aid. Would you mind telling me WHY you prefer the wardrobe flat on its face instead of in an upright position?"

"Oh, Uncle Steve it upset itself, and I'm so sorry!"

"Oh, well, if it upset itself I suppose it did so because it prefers to lie that way. Probably it was tired and wanted to rest. Wardrobes are a lazy lot, anyway. But do you know, I was stupid enough to think that you girls had something to do with its downfall."