Fun on the Beach
The drive down the south shore was very beautiful; the girls both enjoyed the glimpses they saw of Quincy, Hingham and Neponset—the quaint old-fashioned houses, so different from anything they had ever seen before, the lovely gardens and the view of the bay and various inlets that they caught from time to time. The road was good and the powerful car dashed along under the wide spreading trees that edged the roads. The girls were much refreshed by this sort of entertainment.
But Mary Jane was disappointed by one thing—it wasn’t really windy enough to need a veil. And she did want to wear one. As they neared the ocean though, they felt a stronger breeze, a breeze that came gustily through the open windows of the limousine, and she felt justified in using the veil she had carried over her arm. It wasn’t particularly easy to adjust a veil two yards long while they were driving so rapidly, and Alice had to help her sister, for Mary Jane insisted in putting it entirely over her hat and tying it under her chin.
Mrs. Merrill and Mrs. Humphrey were busy talking and didn’t notice what Mary Jane was doing till the veil was almost fixed. Then Mrs. Humphrey noticed it, and was all regret for coming this route.
“My dear!” she exclaimed to Mrs. Merrill, “I didn’t know your little girl was so delicate! We should never have come this way! We could just as well have driven west and then she wouldn’t have felt this awful wind from the ocean! Why, it’s just too bad! We’ll have Higgins turn around at once! I should have asked you, only your little girl looked so strong and I thought she and her sister might like to go in bathing at the beach. Such a dear little thing to watch and put the veil on herself at the first breath! My nephew’s children are so careless—they never will wrap up as—”
There seemed no hope of the good lady ever stopping, so Mrs. Merrill interrupted to say, “Don’t be a bit concerned, Mrs. Humphrey, Mary Jane is not delicate—in fact she is very strong and vigorous. But she did want to wear a veil and pretend to be grown-up, and she has taken advantage of the first breeze to think she must put it on.”
Mary Jane was panic-stricken. She wasn’t sick; she’d love to go swimming in the ocean, and the very thought of leaving that pretty beach they were just approaching and turning west made her sorry. What had she done by putting on her veil?
“Don’t you worry ’bout me,” she said to Mrs. Humphrey, “I’m never sick. But I like to wear a veil—a big lady veil. Don’t you like to, too? But I like to go swimming too, I do.”
“Very well then,” said Mrs. Humphrey, smilingly, “you shall go swimming. I guess I don’t understand little girls very well. But I know they always like to come to the beach and they like to eat—oh, ’most anything.”
“Then you know them pretty well after all,” said Alice laughing.
“But they can’t eat before they swim,” said Mary Jane, “little girls can’t.”
“To be sure,” agreed Mrs. Humphrey as the car came to a stop on the shining sand, “but if they go in the water at once—they won’t have to wait long to eat, will they?”
As the girls climbed out of the car they decided that Mrs. Humphrey knew considerable about girls even if she didn’t happen to understand Mary Jane’s notions about wanting to dress up like grown folks.
At the right hand end of the long beach was a private clubhouse where Mr. Humphrey had a membership, and there Mrs. Humphrey took Alice and Mary Jane to fit them out with bathing suits.
“I wish someone we knew was here to go in with you,” said she worriedly, as they walked toward the beach after the girls had dressed. “Of course Higgins is bringing lap rugs down close to the water and your mother and I will sit right there near. But you could have more fun with the big waves, if someone could take you out.”
They threaded their way through the crowds of folks on the sand to the spot where Mrs. Humphrey thought the cleanest, nicest sand was found, and there—just as though he had been there all afternoon—was Uncle Hal and three of his friends!
“I thought you were going to pack!” exclaimed Mrs. Merrill in amazement.
“So I was,” laughed Hal, “but why pack when I could go in swimming?”
“But how did you happen to come here?” asked Alice.
“I didn’t ‘happen,’” Hal assured her. “Art came over and said you were coming down here, and as it turned off so hot, wouldn’t I like a swim, and I would—so here we are. Want some good company?”
“‘Deed we do!” Mary Jane assured him, and much relieved, Mrs. Merrill and Mrs. Humphrey sat down on the rugs to continue their visit while the two girls, with the four college men for escorts, raced down into the water.
Mary Jane supposed she would have had fun on the beach, wading by the edge of the big waves even if Uncle Hal had not come. But it wouldn’t have been fun such as she and Alice had with him there. The great waves rolled in and broke in a crest of foam near the shore and then spread in a frill of bubbles over the golden sand. Uncle Hal picked her up in his arms and walked with her way out into the water; then, holding her high, let her feel the “break” of the waves close to her face. She shouted with glee and splashed her hands in the crest of foam—never had she had such fun!
Then, taking her out deeper, where the waves did not break but rolled along in a great swell, he held her tightly by her bathing suit and under her chin and let her swim. It was fun to feel the water rolling, to let herself go as Uncle Hal told her to, and to breathe slowly and comfortably and work her hands and feet, feeling all the while the security of her uncle’s strong arm.
“Let’s do it some more!” she cried, as he took her in to shore.
“Pretty soon,” he replied, “but you stay on the sand awhile now with Alice while I swim out to the raft to warm up. Then you shall have another swim—two, if you want them.”
Back on the sand with Alice, Mary Jane found it nearly as much fun to dig and hunt shells as it was to swim. There seemed to be no pretty shells as there were on the beaches in Florida; perhaps because the crowds of people kept them picked over; perhaps because up further north there were not such pretty shells to be washed up. But there were plenty to build a wall with even if all were not beautiful and perfect. She and Alice collected several handfuls and then set about building a city with a wall around it. Other children playing near saw the plan and helped too, and in a few minutes a dozen little folks were working under Alice’s direction, building streets, parks, houses, churches and the outer wall. It was great fun and as they worked the time sped by, one hour, two, and the girls would have guessed it wasn’t more than ten minutes.
They were used to playing on the sandy beach of Lake Michigan and even Alice, who knew all about it, didn’t think about the ocean’s tides. And as all the children were in their bathing suits they didn’t notice an occasional bit of wetness. So it was with amazement they saw a great wave roll up near and actually into their precious city!
“Why, what’s the matter with the ocean?” exclaimed Mary Jane in dismay, “it’s coming into our city, and it mustn’t!”
“Matter with the ocean!” cried Alice, much disgusted with her thoughtlessness. “It’s the tide. Don’t you remember in Florida how it went up and down the beach each day, Mary Jane? We should have remembered and set our city further from the edge of the water.”
As they talked, a second great wave broke in a frill of bubbles and down went the two nearest churches, three parks and a dozen houses.
“Regular earthquake-tidal wave effect,” said one of Uncle Hal’s friends who came up to the group just then. “Well, we were just going to take you into the water again anyway, so why worry?”
“Oh, goody!” cried Mary Jane happily, “we can build another city sometime, but we can’t go in swimming with you and Uncle Hal—not very often we can’t.”
By the time the girls had had another good swim and had enjoyed the breakers till the boys were tired, Mrs. Merrill decided that it was time to come in. The sun was getting lower and lower, and already the breeze was blowing cooler.
“Dash up to the clubhouse quickly, girlies,” said Mrs. Humphrey, “you know where I showed you to go. And then when you come back dressed we’ll find something to eat.”
But the girls took longer dressing than might have been expected—maybe they talked too much about the good time they were having—and when they reached the beach it was time the party was starting back for Boston, past time in fact, if Mrs. Humphrey was to keep an important dinner engagement. So there was no time for regular tea as Mrs. Humphrey had planned.
“But we can stop and get ice cream cones and crackerjack to eat on the way,” she said. “Don’t little girls like cones and crackerjack?”
“They certainly do,” laughed Alice, “at least these little girls do.”
“Then take this,” said Mrs. Humphrey, handing her a five-dollar bill, “and get all you want, dear. This looks like a good place.” They were back in the car of course, and Higgins had driven along the thoroughfare by the ocean—a street lined with shops.
Alice looked at the money with a feeling of dismay. How many should she get? One cone apiece and one box of crackerjack or maybe two? And how about the change? Five dollars seemed like a lot of money to carry into a crowd such as thronged the boardwalk by which the car had stopped.
Seeing her hesitation, Mrs. Humphrey said, “Would you rather I got it, dear?” and Alice replied so promptly, “oh, will you, Mrs. Humphrey?” that the lady had no doubt, but Alice would enjoy herself more if she didn’t have to make the purchase.
So Mrs. Humphrey got out of the car and hurried to the shop. It is hardly likely that she had made such a purchase before—certainly not often, for when she got into the shop she scarcely knew what to buy, or how much the girls could eat. Of course they would be hungry—she bought four boxes of crackerjack and five cones; that amount simply because that seemed to be all she could carry, and went back to the car.
“Can you help me?” she asked as she found herself too loaded down to step comfortably into her car. Mary Jane was on that side and she reached out and took the boxes of crackerjack while Mrs. Merrill took the cones.
“Where’s Higgins’s crackerjack?” asked Mary Jane making a hasty count.
“What did you say, dear?” asked Mrs. Humphrey who thought her ears must have deceived her, “Higgins’ what?”
“Higgins’s crackerjack,” repeated Mary Jane, “you’ve got a cone for everybody and only four boxes of crackerjack. Doesn’t Higgins like crackerjack?”
“I really—why—” Mrs. Humphrey was so amazed that for the minute she couldn’t think of anything to say. Higgins and crackerjack!
“Never mind,” said Mary Jane, thinking to comfort her hostess, “there’s plenty of ice cream and he can have half of my crackerjack—I’d be glad to divide it.”
Before either Mrs. Merrill or Mrs. Humphrey could interfere, Mary Jane had slipped from her chair and was hospitably passing the cones to the dignified chauffeur. Never did a man look more insulted! He, Higgins, to eat an ice cream cone while on duty and in his best uniform! Perish the thought! But a glance at Mary Jane’s kindly smile changed his answer and instead of frowning no without a word as he meant to, he smiled and said, “Thank you kindly, miss, but I must give all my attention to the wheel.”
“Well, don’t worry,” said Mary Jane, “I’ll eat it then.” And she did.