"That's exactly what I'm doing, my dear," laughed Grandfather. "I'm finding something."

"Are you really, Grandfather," cried Mary Jane happily. "Let's go do it now! I'm all through my dessert; may I please be excused, Grandmother?" and Mary Jane prepared to slip down from her chair.

"No use," said Grandfather with a shake of his head. "It isn't ready yet."

"Not ready?" echoed Mary Jane. "Does it have to be ready before we do it?"

"It surely does," laughed Grandfather, "That's the reason we haven't done it before."

"But I think I'll like it without being ready," suggested Mary Jane as she went around to his chair. "Let's see if I wouldn't."

"No, sir, you can't tease me that way, p.u.s.s.y," laughed Grandfather.

"You'll have to wait."

"Is it alive?" asked Mary Jane, who by this time was fairly bubbling over with curiosity.

"Well, yes," replied Grandfather and he chuckled to himself in high glee.

"Is it big as me?" asked Mary Jane.

"One way 'tis and another way 'tisn't," said Grandfather.

"Oh, dear!" sighed Mary Jane, "that's the kind I never can guess!"

Then she thought carefully for a real good question. "Is it brown or gray?"

Grandfather leaned back and laughed. When he finally could answer he said, "It's partly grayish brown and some day it may be all brown for a' I know."

"Then it isn't a mouse and it isn't a lamb," said Mary Jane positively, "and that's all I can think of now."

"That's a good thing," said Grandmother, "for there's the postman and I surely expect a letter from your mother to-day."

One of the things that Mary Jane most loved to do was to run out front when the rural mail carrier came along in his little wagon and watch him put the mail in the box out in front of her grandfather's house.

Usually they spied him way down the road just about the time they were through dinner and Mary Jane would run out and watch him. The first time he saw her he handed the mail out to her and that disappointed her greatly. She had wanted to see him put the mail in the box as Grandfather had told her he would. So on the second day, Grandfather went out with her and explained to the carrier that little girls from the city liked mail that came in boxes better than mail that was just handed in city fashion. And after that, the carrier smiled and nodded to her each time and then tucked the mail as carefully into the box as though he didn't know she would take it out the first minute he was out of sight.

"I'll go down with you," said Grandfather, rising quickly from the table, "because I'm expecting a letter too."

Sure enough! There was a letter for Grandmother that looked very much as though it came from Mary Jane's mother; and a letter for Grandfather that looked to be exactly the same letter! There wasn't a mite of difference so far as Mary Jane could see, except in the one Grandfather said was his, the first word was shorter. And there was a letter for Mary Jane too, the first letter she ever received from her mother.

They all three sat down on the front steps to read. First Mary Jane opened hers and Grandmother helped her read it. "I'm going to learn to read myself," declared Mary Jane, "'cause folks that get letters ought to know how to read them."

"You're right they should," agreed Grandmother, "and I shouldn't wonder a bit but what a certain little girl I know would go to school this fall."

"And that little girl's me?" asked Mary Jane.

"That little girl's you," said Grandmother. "Now listen while I read my letter."

So Mary Jane sat real still and heard Grandmother's letter.

"Now then, Father," said Grandmother as she folded hers up and put it back in the envelope, "we'll hear yours, Grandfather."

"Not right now," said Grandfather, rising suddenly and starting for the barn. "I'm too busy to stop any more." And that was the last they saw of him all afternoon.

"I do think that's the queerest," said Grandmother as she looked after her husband. "He's always so anxious to hear letters and I know he isn't as busy as he makes out. But if he don't want to tell he won't, Mary Jane, so I guess we'd better stop thinking about it."

Mary Jane ran up to her room to put her precious letter away for safe-keeping. Then she and Grandmother tidied up the dinner work and dressed for afternoon. Grandmother didn't have lots of hard work to do, as some farm folks have, for she and Grandfather had long ago stopped doing the hardest work on the farm. They rented out most of their land and kept for themselves only enough garden and chicken yard and pasture to make them feel comfortably busy. So Grandmother had plenty of time for pleasant walks and rides with Mary Jane.

Grandfather seemed to be tired at supper that evening so nothing was said about secrets or letters or anything like that, and he went off to bed about as soon as Mary Jane did.

But the next morning he seemed rested and jolly as ever.

"Do you happen to know any little girl around here who wants to work with me today?" he asked at the breakfast table.

"That's what Daddah says when he wants me to work in my garden," said Mary Jane.

"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Grandfather in great surprise. That was one of his favorite expressions, and Mary Jane had to always stop and think before she could realize that what he meant was, "You do tell me!" "And what do you say to him when he asks you that?"

"I say, 'I know one little girl and that's me,'" replied Mary Jane.

"And what do you say to me?" continued Grandfather.

"I say, 'I know one little girl, and she's right here,'" laughed Mary Jane and she jumped down from the table and gave her grandfather a big bear hug. "What is it we're going to do?"

"Wait and see," said Grandfather.

"Then it's the secret!" exclaimed Mary Jane, dancing around. "It's the secret! I know it is! Grandmother! Let's hurry quick and do our work so we can go."

"You put on your sun hat and go this very minute," exclaimed Grandmother. "You've been such a good little helper--I guess I can get along alone one day."

So in about one minute Mary Jane had her sun hat from upstairs and was going out the back door with her grandfather.

They went out past the tool house and past the chicken yard and up to the garden.

"No, Bob," said Grandfather as Bob tried to push in through the garden gate with them, "we don't need you here. G'on back to the house!" And Bob turned obediently and ran back.

"Isn't he the nicest dog!" explained Mary Jane, as they went along.

And then she stopped right short and couldn't say another word. For right there in front of her, just as plain as day as though it had been growing a whole spring, was her own garden! Yes, her _very own_ garden! With the nasturtiums in front and the marigolds next and the young lettuce in the back. Mary Jane could hardly believe her eyes!

"Why--but--how--I thought gardens stayed in one town!" she finally exclaimed.

"They do usually," said Grandfather and his eyes twinkled with pleasure over her surprise, "usually they do."

"But my garden didn't," stammered Mary Jane. "Did it come on a train like I did?"

"No," laughed Grandfather; "guess again."

"It couldn't come any other way," insisted Mary Jane, "'cause I was out here last week with Grandmother to see her lettuce and this wasn't here then and you can't come 'way from my house in one day unless you ride on a train--it's too far."

"That's good thinking for Miss Five-year-old," said Grandfather proudly, "so I guess I'll have to explain. You see, I wrote to your mother and asked her how your garden was at home. And she told me, exactly; she even drew a little picture so I would know just how things were planted. After I got that letter, it was easy to take nasturtiums and marigolds and lettuce from your grandmother's garden and make one for you. She was glad to give you some."