Mary: A Nursery Story for Very Little Children

Then she turned her head round and pressed it in to nurse’s shoulder and burst into tears.

Chapter Two.

Guessing

Poor nurse was very sorry. But she knew it would not do to be too sorry for Mary, for then she would go on crying. And once Mary got into a long cry it sometimes went on to be a very long one indeed. So nurse spoke to her quite brightly.

“My dearie,” she said, “you mustn’t cry on your birthday morning. It’s quite a mistake. Look up, dear. See, the sun’s coming out so beautiful again, and we’ll have Master Leigh and Master Artie calling for their breakfast. And you’ll have to be quick, for your papa gave me a message to say you were to go down to see him in the dining-room.”

Mary gave a little wriggle, though she still kept her face hidden. But as nurse went on talking she slowly turned round so that her dressing could go on.

“I’ve something to say to you before you go down,” nurse went on. “There’s something that’s come just in time for your birthday. I’ll give you each two guesses – you and Master Leigh and Master Artie, while you’re eating your breakfast.”

Mary looked up.

“Where’s my hankercher?” she said, and when nurse gave it to her she wiped her eyes.

That was a good sign.

“Let me have my guesses now, nursey,” she said coaxingly.

But nurse kept to what she had said.

“No, dear, guesses are much nicer when there’s two or three together. Besides, we must be very quick. See, there’s your nice frock all ready.”

And Mary saw, where nurse pointed to, one of her Sunday afternoon frocks lying on a chair. It was a blue one – blue with tiny white stripes, and Mary was very fond of it. It had a very pretty wide sash, just the same colour, and there were little bows on her shoes the same colour too. Her face got quite smiley when she saw all these things. She was not a vain little girl and she did not care about fine clothes, but it gave her a nice feeling that, after all, her birthday was going to be something different to other days.

Soon she was dressed; her hair, which was not very long but soft and shaggy and of a pretty brown colour, combed out so that no tuggy bits were left; her hands as clean as a little girl’s hands could be; a nice white pinafore on the top of the pretty blue frock, so that Mary felt that, as nurse said, she was quite fit to go to see the Queen, if the Queen had asked her.

And when she went into the day-nursery things seemed to get still nicer. There were no bowls of bread and milk, but a regular “treat” breakfast set out. Tea-cups for herself and the boys, and dear little twists of bacon, and toast – toast in a toast-rack – and some honeycomb in a glass dish.

“Oh,” said Mary, “it is my birfday. I’m quite sure now there’s no mistook.”

And in a minute Leigh and Artie came running in. I do not know, by the by, that Leigh came running, most likely he was walking, for he was rather a solemn sort of boy, but Artie made up for it. He scarcely ever walked. He was always hopping or jumping or turning head over heels, he could almost do wheels, like a London street boy. And this morning he came in with an extra lot of jumps because it was Mary’s birthday.

“You thought we’d forgotten, Leigh and me, now didn’t you?” he said. “But we hadn’t a bit. It was Leigh said you liked the bacon twisted up and it was me reminded about the honey. Wasn’t it now, nurse? And we’ve got a present for you after breakfast. It’s downstairs with papa’s and mamma’s. We’ll give you them all of us together, Mary.”

But the mention of mamma brought a cloud again to Mary’s face.

“Nursey says mamma’s dot a headache, and we can’t see her. Not Mary on her birfday.”

At this Leigh looked up.

“Is that true?” he said. “Is mamma ill?”

“She’s asleep, Master Leigh, and she may sleep a good while. I dare say you’ll all see her when she wakes.”

“Her shouldn’t be ’nill on my birfday,” began Mary again.

“Rubbish, Mary,” said Leigh. “I dare say she’ll be all right. And you should be sorry for mamma if she’s ill; it isn’t her fault.”

“I am sorry,” said Mary dolefully; “that’s why I can’t help crying.”

“Come now, Miss Mary,” began nurse. “You’re forgetting what we fixed. No crying on a birthday, my dear. And you’re forgetting about the guesses. I’m going to give you two guesses each, Master Leigh and Master Artie and Miss Mary, about what’s come just in time for her birthday. Now don’t speak for a minute, but think it well over while you go on with your breakfast.”

There was a silence then; all the children looked very grave, though their thinking did not prevent their enjoying their nice breakfast.

“Now, Master Leigh,” said nurse, “you guess first.”

“A pony,” said Leigh. “A new pony instead of Dapple Grey who’s getting too old to trot.” Nurse shook her head.

“No, it’s not a new pony. Besides, I don’t think Miss Mary would care as much for a new pony as you boys would.”

“No,” Mary agreed. “I don’t want no pony but Dapple Grey. Nother ponies trot too fast.” Leigh thought again. This time he tried to make his guess some quite “girl” thing.

“A doll – a big doll for Mary,” he said.

Nurse smiled. No, it was not that – at least – “A wax doll, do you mean, Master Leigh?”

“Yes, a wax doll. But I don’t think it could be a doll, for that could have been got already for a birthday present, and this is quite an extra present, isn’t it?” said Leigh.

“Yes, quite extra,” said nurse. “But now it’s Master Artie’s turn.”

Artie’s ideas were very jumbled. He did not keep the inside of his head in nearly such good order as Leigh kept his. First he guessed “a fine day for Mary’s birthday,” as if any “guessing” could be needed for a thing which was already there before their eyes. Then he guessed a very big cake for tea, which was not a very clever guess, as a nice big cake on a birthday was an “of course.” So now it came to Mary’s own guesses. She looked up eagerly.

“For us all to be doo – ” Then with a great effort, for Mary was growing a big girl and wanted to speak quite rightly, “to be g-ood all day. Kite g-ood.”

“That would be very nice,” said nurse, “and I hope it will come true, but that’s more wishing than guessing, Miss Mary. It’s something that’s come, not going to come, that I want you to guess about.”

Mary’s face grew very grave. Then it smiled again.

“I know,” she said, “mamma’s headache to g-go away, now, jimmedjetly, and then we’ll go and see her.”

“I hope it will,” said nurse. “But that wasn’t the guess.”

She saw that Mary was too little quite to understand.

“See if I can’t help you,” she said. “What would you like best of anything? Don’t you think a doll that could learn to speak and love you and play with you would be a nice birthday present?”

Artie and Mary looked puzzled. They had to think about it. But Leigh was quicker.

“Why, nurse,” he said, “a doll like that would be a living– oh nurse, I do believe – ” but just as he was going to say more there came a tap at the door, and Robert, the footman, came in.

“If you please, Mrs Barley,” he began. “Barley” was nurse’s own name, and, of course, the other servants were all very respectful, and always called her “Mrs Barley.”

“Master wants the young gentlemen and Miss Mary now at once, if so be as they’ve finished their breakfast.”

“I think you should say ‘Miss Mary and the young gentlemen,’ Robert,” said Leigh.