Anyway we have it all. It is our May even if other people use it, too."
"I don't begrudge them the use of it," said Kitty; "of course, it's just as much theirs as ours."
"Yes, of course," assented Marjorie; "I'm only just sort of imagining, you know."
"Let me help you imagine. Midget," said her father. "How would you like to imagine a whole May time that was all playtime?"
"For all of us?" rejoined Marjorie, her eyes dancing. "Oh, that would be a lovely imagination! It would be like an Ourday all the time! And by the way, Father, you owe us an extra Ourday. You know we skipped one when you and Mother were down South, and it's time for another anyway. Shall we have two together?"
"Two together!" cried King; "what fun that would be! We could go off on a trip or something."
"Where could we stay all night?" asked Kitty, who was the practical one.
"Oh, trips always have places to stay all night," declared King; "let's do it, Father. What do you say?"
"I don't get a chance to say much of anything, among all you chatter-boxes. Rosy Posy, what do you say?"
But the littlest Maynard was so nearly asleep that she had no voice in the matter under consideration, and at her father's suggestion, Nurse Nannie came and took her away to bed.
"Now," said Mr. Maynard, "what's all this about Ourday? And two of them together! When do you think I'm going to get my business done?"
"Well, but, Father, you owe them to us," said Marjorie, patting his cheek in her wheedlesome way. "And you're not the kind of a business man who doesn't pay his debts, are you?"
"I hope not; that would be a terrible state of affairs! And so I owe you two Ourdays, do I?"
"Yes, one for April, and one for May."
It was the custom in the Maynard household to have an Ourday each month. On these occasions both Mr. and Mrs. Maynard devoted themselves all day long to the entertainment of the four children, and the four took turns in deciding what the nature of the entertainment should be. Much of the previous month their parents had been away, and the children looked forward to the celebration of the belated Ourday in connection with the one that belonged to the month of May.
"Before we discuss the question further," said Mr. Maynard, "I must tell you of something I did to-day. I adopted a new pet."
"Oh, Father, what is it—a dog?" cried Marjorie.
"No, it isn't a dog; guess again."
"A cat!" Kitty guessed, while King said, "A goat?"
"Wrong, all of you," said Mr. Maynard; "now see if you can't guess it by asking twenty questions."
"All right," said Marjorie, who was always ready for a game. "Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
"All three; that is, it belongs to all three kingdoms."
"Is it a house?" asked Kitty.
"No, it is not as big as a house."
"Is it useful or ornamental?" asked King.
"Both; but its principal use is to give pleasure."
"How lovely!" cried Marjorie. "I guess it's a fountain! Oh, Father, where are you going to put it—on the side lawn? And will it have goldfish in it, and shiny stones, and green water plants growing in it?"
"Wait a minute, Mops; don't go so fast! You see, it isn't a fountain, and if you should put water and goldfish in it, you'd spoil it entirely."
"And any way, Father," said King, "you said it was a pet, didn't you?"
"Yes, my boy, a sort of pet."
"Can it talk?"
"No, it can't talk."
"Oh, I made sure it was a talking machine. What kind of a sound does it make?"
"Well, it purrs sometimes."
"Then it is a kitten after all," cried Kitty.
"No, it isn't a kitten. It's bigger than a kitten."
"An old cat!" said Marjorie, scornfully.
"Pooh," said King, "we'll never get at it this way. Of course it isn't a cat! Father wouldn't make so much fuss over just a cat."
"But I'm not making a fuss," protested Mr. Maynard; "I only told you I had adopted a new pet, and suggested you guess what it is. If you give up I'll tell you."
"I don't give up," cried Kitty; "what color is it?"
"Red," answered her father.
"Ho!" cried Kitty, with a sudden flash of inspiration, "it's an automobile!"
"Right you are, Kitsie," said her father, "though I don't know why you guessed it so quick."
"Well, nothing else is red and big. But why do you call it a pet? And how does it purr?"
"You're so practical, Kitty, it's difficult to make you understand; but I feel quite sure we'll all make a pet of it, and when you once hear it purr, you'll think it a prettier sound than any kitten ever made."
"Is it really an automobile, Father? And have you bought it? And shall we ride in it? Where is it? Where are you going to keep it? When will it come? How many will it hold? Where shall we ride first?"
These queries were flung at Mr. Maynard by the breathless children without waiting for answers, and as Mrs. Maynard came in just then, Mr. Maynard told the story of his new acquisition.
"I've been looking at them for some time, as you know, Helen," he said, looking at his wife, "and to-day I decided upon the purchase. It's a big touring car, and will comfortably accommodate the whole Maynard family and a chauffeur beside. It will arrive day after to-morrow, that's Monday, and after a few short spins around this neighborhood, I think by Thursday we may be able to start for an Ourday trip in it."
"A whole Ourday in an automobile!" cried Marjorie; "how gorgeous and grand! Oh, King, isn't it just splendiferous!"
Marjorie sprang to her feet, and grasped her brother round the neck, and they flew round the room in a sort of a wild Indian war-dance that went far to express their joy and delight at the prospect.
"Two Ourdays, you know, Father," said Kitty, nestling quietly to her father's side as her madcap brother and sister whirled round the room. But they brought up with a round turn, though a little dishevelled-looking, to hear Mr. Maynard's reply to Kitty's remark.
"Yes, two Ourdays at once!" Marjorie cried, affectionately pulling King's hair as she spoke. He returned the caress by pinching her ear, and said, "Will it be two Ourdays together, Father, or one at a time?"
"If you two young tornadoes will sit down quietly for a moment, you may hear of something to your advantage," said Mr. Maynard, smiling at his two eldest children who were rather red-faced and breathless from their recent exertions.
"Sure we will!" cried King, and drawing Marjorie down with him, they fell in a heap on the floor, and sat there awaiting further disclosures.
"You see," Mr. Maynard began, "as Marjorie says, Maytime is,—what?"
"Playtime," supplemented Marjorie, quickly.
"Well, then, if Maytime is playtime for the Maynards, why shouldn't we play all through the month of May?"
sang Marjorie who often improvised her songs as she went along. This was not a difficult one to learn, and King and Kitty took up the refrain, and they sang it over and over with great gusto, until Mrs. Maynard begged for a respite.
"But of course you don't mean anything like that?" said Kitty, when the song had ceased.
"But that's just exactly what I do mean. What do you think of the plan of the Maynards going a-Maying in their own motor car, and taking the whole month of May for it?"
Marjorie's eyes opened wide. "I know what you mean!" she exclaimed; "you mean a tour—a tour through the country in an automobile! I've heard of such things!"
"Wise child!" said her father; "well, that's exactly what I do mean. A tour through the country in our own motor, and in our own Maytime. How does it strike you?"
"It strikes me all of a heap!" cried Marjorie, throwing herself into her father's arms; "tell me more, quick! Seems as if I can't believe it!"
"I can't believe it, either," said Kitty, slowly; "but I 'spect I can by the time we get ready to start. When are we going, Father?"
"On Thursday, if Mother can be ready."
"Oh, yes, I can be ready. I've only to get a few things for the children and myself to wear on the journey."
"Yes, we must all have up-to-date motor togs, I'm sure," and Mr. Maynard looked about as happy over the projected trip, as any of his children.
"But, Father," said Marjorie, "how can you take so much time away from your business? You said you couldn't take two Ourdays together because you were busy."
"I didn't say exactly that, dearie, and anyway I was only joking, because I knew I was going to spring this surprise on you in a few minutes. I have arranged, of course, to be away from my business for nearly a month, and have planned to spend the greater part of May taking this motor trip. We will go to Grandma Sherwood's first, and stay a few days,—"
"To Grandma Sherwood's? Oh, glorious!" And again Marjorie was seized with a paroxysm of joy, and this time she caught Kitty, and led her off for a mad dance round the room. "Just think of it, Kit," she cried, "we'll be at Grandma Sherwood's together, and you can see the lovely room she fixed up for me, and the house in the tree, and everything. Oh, Kitty!"
"But I'm going to be there all summer, anyway," said Kitty, as she finally induced Marjorie to tumble on the divan amid a heap of sofa pillows.
"Yes, I know; but that's different. But what fun for us all to be there together for a few days! Did you say a few days, Father?"
"Yes, I did; but if you're so turbulent, and excitable, and noisy I think a few hours'll be enough for Grandma and Uncle Steve."
"It may be enough for Grandma, but it won't for Uncle Steve," declared Marjorie; "he loves rackety-packety children!"
"Well, he'll get his desires fulfilled when you get there," said Mrs. Maynard, smiling; "but perhaps the trip there will calm you down a little bit."
"No, it won't! It just makes me more and more crazy all the time I think of it! Oh, Father, won't we have a lot of our Ourdays all at once!"
"Indeed we will, enough to last for several years ahead. For if you debit me with last month's deficiency, of course you must credit me in the future."
"Oh, no, this rule doesn't work both ways! We'll just take all the Ourdays that we can get whenever we can get them. But what are we going to do after we leave Grandma's?"
"Well, if you all agree, I thought we might go over to New York and see your other grandma."
"Go to Grandma Maynard's, too! Oh, what fun we will have!" and Marjorie looked as if her cup of bliss were full and running over.
"And after that," said Mrs. Maynard, "if none of you object too seriously, we thought perhaps a little run up through New England would prove attractive."
"Mother," said King, looking at her twinkling eyes, "you planned all this out before? It's no surprise to you!"
"Very true, King; your father and I planned it while we were on our Southern trip. We had such a delightful outing, it seemed only fair that we should take you children for a trip also. And your father has been thinking for some time about buying an automobile, and as he can take the time now, it all works in beautifully."
"Beautiful! I should think it was!" cried Marjorie; "and Mother, will we all have motor coats and goggles, and all those queer things that they wear in automobiles?"
"You won't have any queer things, and I doubt if you'll need goggles; but you and Kitty shall have pretty motor coats, and pretty hoods and veils. We'll go on Monday to buy them."
"Oh," sighed Marjorie, "it just does seem too good to be true! It's like a fairy dream, and I 'spect I'll wake up every minute. What about lessons, Mother?"
"We've thought of that; but as your lessons would stop the first of June anyway, you'll only lose a few weeks, and so we're going to take you all out of school for that time. For this year, at any rate, Maytime shall be playtime for the Maynards."
"I'm so glad I'm a Maynard, and live in the Maynard family," said Kitty, with a deep sigh of satisfaction.
"So'm I," declared Marjorie; "there never was such a nice family, with such a bee-yootiful father and mother!"
And as if this were a signal for a general onslaught, the three young Maynards made a dash for the two older Maynards, and nearly choked them with well-meant but rather athletic embraces, which was their fashion of expressing approval and appreciation.
CHAPTER III
A TRIAL TRIP
Owing to some unexpected delay, the automobile didn't arrive until Wednesday. But when at last it came whirring up the drive, the assembled Maynards on the veranda greeted it with shouts of approval.
"Did you ever see such a beauty!" cried Marjorie, as she danced around the new car, and clambering up on the farther side, jumped over the closed door, and fell plump into one of the cushioned seats.
"Oh, Mopsy!" cried her father, "that isn't the way to get in."
"I don't care,—I am in! And it's just great in here! Why, there's room enough for a whole party."
The chauffeur who brought the car seemed a little surprised at the antics of the children, for he was a stolid Englishman, and not much accustomed to American exuberance.
Mr. Maynard had engaged him on the best recommendations, and felt sure that he was a trust-worthy and capable man. His name was Pompton, and he was large and muscular, with a face that was grave but not ill-natured.
Kingdon made friends with him at once, and climbing up into the seat beside him, asked innumerable questions about the various parts of the machine.
"Suppose we go at once for a trial spin," proposed Mr. Maynard, and almost before he had completed his sentence, a chorus of assent rose in response.
"Oh, do, Father," cried King; "and let me stay here in front, so I can see how it works."
"Some other time you may do that, King, but this time I want to sit in front myself, so hop out, and take one of the orchestra chairs."
"All right, sir," and King tumbled out, and flew around to the other side of the car. Mrs. Maynard, Kitty, and Rosamond were already seated in the wide, comfortable back seat. This left two seats in the tonneau for King and Marjorie, and with Mr. Maynard in front, by the side of Pompton, the car offered perfect accommodations for the Maynard family. It was a big touring car of a most approved make, and up-to-date finish. The top could be opened or closed at will, and there were many appurtenances and clever contrivances for comfort, designed to add to the delights of a long tour.
The family had been so eager to start at once that they had not paused to get hats or wraps, and as the top was down, the strong breeze blew their hair all about, and also made conversation a little difficult.
But the Maynard children were not baffled by difficulties, and they raised their voices until they were audible in spite of the wind.
"Isn't it magnificent!" screamed Marjorie, pulling at King's collar to attract his attention.
"Perfectly gorgiferous!—and then some!" he yelled back, a little preoccupied in manner, because he was leaning over the chauffeur's shoulder, in his impatience to learn how to run the machine.
They went flying through the streets of Rockwell, and out into the country for a little run. Then as they were to start on their tour next day, Mrs. Maynard declared they must be turning homeward.
"Oh, Father," cried Marjorie, "after Mother gets out, mayn't we take Delight out for a few moments? Even only just around the block?"
"Will she care to go, Mopsy? You know an automobile isn't such a wonderful novelty to her as it is to you."
"Oh, yes, she'll care to go in ours,—and anyway I mean just for a minute."
"All right then, chickabiddy; we'll put Mother and Baby out, then we'll take Delight around the block, and that'll be about all for to-day."
So Mrs. Maynard and Rosy Posy were deposited on their own doorstep, and the big red car flew across the street to give Delight an exhibition of its glories.
She was glad to go, but she was far from being as enthusiastic as the Maynard children, for Delight was a timid little girl, and never felt entirely at her ease in a fast-flying motor. She nestled in the back seat between Marjorie and Kitty, and grasped both their hands when the car swung swiftly around a corner.
Then they happened to meet Flip Henderson walking along the street, and they picked him up as an extra passenger, and then Kitty said: "Oh, now we've got the whole Jinks Club except Dorothy Adams. Do let's stop for her, Father, and then go round one more block."