Mary Jane pointed out the stand where balloons were sold, and with grandfather's help picked out a fine big red one to take to Grandmother.

Of the drive home Mary Jane remembered not a thing. She had seen and heard so much that she just sat and listened while Grandfather and John talked about everything. She almost went to sleep twice--almost but not quite, because she had to stay awake to hold Grandmother's balloon and keep it from blowing out of the car.

Grandmother was watching for them when they drove into the yard and was delighted with her balloon, said she felt exactly as though she had been to the circus herself.

She tied it to the big gla.s.s water pitcher so they could see it all the while they were eating their supper and she thanked Mary Jane many times, for thinking to bring it to her.

"I know what I'm going to do first thing in the morning," said John, as he and Mary Jane climbed upstairs to bed. "I'm going to get out that picture and see if they did everything it said."

"Well, I know they did," said Mary Jane positively, "and they did more too, because they did all the noise; I heard 'em!"

LEARNING TO COOK

John stayed a whole week at Grandfather's and every one of the seven days, he and Mary Jane had a beautiful time. They fed chickens for Grandmother and gathered eggs; they visited the rabbits, carrying with them t.i.t-bits of lettuce so they could the easier make friends with the little creatures; they played with the lamb and watched Mary Jane's ducks and rode in the car with Grandfather and altogether had a wonderful time. But the thing that both Mary Jane and John liked the best--well, anyway, _almost_ the best of all, was playing circus in the barn.

They pretended that the downstairs was the animal tent and that Brindle Bess was the elephant--"she waves her hind tail just like he did his front tail, so that's almost the same," John said--and that the hogs were lions and little pigs, tigers. And they pretended that the loft was the performers' tent and that they were the circus folk. Mary Jane learned to turn a summerset in the hay and she tried to walk a rope but that didn't work very well because the rope came down; evidently it wasn't tied tightly. John stood on his head and did tumbling and was learning to throw three bottles at one time. They tried to do the elephant-eating-his-dinner act with Brindle Bess but she didn't seem to understand (maybe because she hadn't been to the circus herself) and tipped the table over and broke two dishes so they had to give that up.

But finally Cousin Margaret came to take John home and Mary Jane was left without a playfellow.

"No use moping around, Mary Jane," said Grandmother briskly as she saw Mary Jane sitting dolefully and idly on the back steps an hour after John had gone. "Find something to do as you did before John came and you'll feel happier."

"But everything I know to do, needs two to do it," complained Mary Jane. "I don't know any children's things for just one!"

"Listen to the child!" laughed Grandmother, "when she played the whole day long, all by herself and as happy as could be! Well, then, dear,"

she added kindly, "if you don't know a children's thing to do, how about a grown folks' thing?"

"Oh, Grandmother!" exclaimed the little girl happily, "is there a grown-up folks' thing I can do?"

"I shouldn't wonder," said Grandmother, smiling mysteriously. "I shouldn't wonder a bit."

"But I don't want to sew," said Mary Jane, suddenly wondering if her grandmother might be thinking of that, "I don't feel sew-ish."

"No, it's not sewing," replied Grandmother. "I haven't time for sewing this morning because I'm going to make strawberry jam."

"Then what is it?" asked Mary Jane and she pressed her face up against the screen door in her effort to look inside at her grandmother's work.

"You come in and wash your hands and face--wash them good with soap,"

said Grandmother, "then bring me one of Grandfather's big handkerchiefs and I'll tell you what it is."

That puzzled Mary Jane and she immediately forgot all about John and her lonesomeness. She hurried to the bathroom and washed her hands and face the very best she knew how. Then she reached into Grandfather's drawer and picked out a handkerchief and took it down to Grandmother.

"Now get me five pins from my basket," said Grandmother.

Mary Jane got the pins in a jiffy and then Grandmother stopped her work and began to unfold and refold the handkerchief.

"What--" began Mary Jane as she watched Grandmother's hands busy folding, "what's it going to be?"

"A cap," replied Grandmother, smiling, "a cap for the cook who's going to get our dinner"; and she set the cap squarely on Mary Jane's head!

"Me? Get dinner? Me? By myself?" exclaimed Mary Jane, "but I don't know how!"

"Oh, yes, you do," laughed Grandmother, "and what you don't know how, you can learn. Do you know what potatoes look like?"

"Why, of course," replied Mary Jane and she giggled at such a funny question for potatoes were her favorite vegetable. "I've seen 'em at home and I've seen 'em in your cellar."

"Sure enough!" said Grandmother, nodding approvingly, "then you'll know what to do. Take that pan over there," and she pointed to the table, "and go into the cellar and pick out six nice smooth potatoes."

Mary Jane did as she was told and she thought it was lots of fun too, to hunt over the bin as she had seen Grandmother do and pick out potatoes that just suited her.

"Now then," said Grandmother when Mary Jane brought up the potatoes, "take that scrubbing brush over there and scrub them clean. Then open the oven door with this holder and lay the potatoes on the shelf to bake."

"Just like I scrub my hands?" asked Mary Jane.

"Just the same," answered Grandmother, "only you don't use soap."

"How about some baked apples?" asked Grandmother as the oven door was shut on the potatoes; and Mary Jane noticed that she said it just as though Mary Jane could do anything or cook anything a body might want.

"They're good, _I_ think," replied Mary Jane.

"So do I," said Grandmother, "and we'll have some. Your Grandfather opened the last box just this morning. You pick out three, Mary Jane, and bring me the apple corer from the drawer and the flat brown bowl from the pantry."

By that time, Mary Jane felt as important as any cook in the land. She washed the apples. Grandmother hadn't said to do that, but Mary Jane was sure it should be done. Then she took the bowl and the corer over to where Grandmother was working with her strawberries.

"Hold the apple so," said Grandmother, showing just how an apple should be cored, "and turn the corer so--see if you can do the next, Mary Jane."

Mary Jane could. Not as quickly as Grandmother had done it, of course, but she did it just the same and set it into the bowl as Grandmother had done.

"Now comes the fun part," said Grandmother; "your mother used to love to fix apples I remember."

"Did she do 'em just like me?" asked Mary Jane.

"Just exactly," said Grandmother. "Get a cup of sugar from the bin; and a teaspoon of cinnamon from that brown box over there and the pat of b.u.t.ter you'll find on the pantry shelf. Mix the sugar and cinnamon together and fill up the holes in the apples with it--there's your spoon, dear."

Grandmother went on with her work and Mary Jane stirred the sugar and cinnamon and filled up the apples--it was lots of fun, she didn't wonder her mother had liked to do it! Then Grandmother showed her how to put a lump of b.u.t.ter on the top of each apple--"just like a hat, Grandmother!" exclaimed Mary Jane delightedly--and set the bowl in the oven by the potatoes.

"Now can you set the table?" asked Grandmother.

"'Deed yes," said Mary Jane proudly; "I do that for Mother."

"I thought so," replied Grandmother. "I won't have to show you about that."

And she didn't. Mary Jane put the silver and the napkins and the pepper and salt and gla.s.ses and dishes all just as they should be. And at Grandmother's suggestion she put on a pat of b.u.t.ter and a gla.s.s of Grandfather's favorite jelly.

"How's the circus lady?" called Grandfather, who happened to come into the kitchen just then.