Marjorie at Seacote

"You stop that, Hester Corey!" yelled King, as he scrambled to his feet, and in another moment he and Cousin Jack succeeded in getting the hose away from Hester.

"She ought to have it turned on her!" said Cousin Jack, looking at the little fury, now dancing up and down in her angry rage. "But, I don't want anything more to do with you, miss. Go home at once, and tell your mother all that has happened."

Glad to get away without further reprimand, Hester, her wrath spent now, walked slowly across the lawn and out of the gate.

"She's a terror!" Cousin Jack commented; "now forget it, kiddies, and let's go into the house and get dried out. Are you girlies much wet?"

"Not so awfully," replied Marjorie. "Mostly our hair and, oh, yes, the front of Ruth's skirt is soaked!"

"Well, we'll build a fire in the library, and hang ourselves up to dry. Come on, all you Sand boys and girls."

They went in the house, and while they dried their hair and clothes, Cousin Jack told them funny stories and made no mention of Hester or of the Sand Club.

"Now we're going to play a game," he announced, after everybody was dry, and the fire had died away to ashes. "Here are the things to play it with."

He produced what looked like some rolls of ribbon, and six pairs of scissors. But it wasn't ribbon, it was the white paper that comes rolled in with ribbon, when bought by the piece. This paper was about an inch wide and he had enough to cut six pieces, each about ten feet long.

These pieces he fastened by one end to the wainscoting with thumb tacks, and giving the other end of each piece to one of the children, he bade them stand in a row, far enough away to hold their paper strips out straight across the room.

Then, at his given signal, each one was to begin to cut, with the scissors, straight through the middle of the paper, lengthwise, the game being to cut clear to the end without tearing the paper. Of course, if carefully done, this would divide each paper into two strips of equal width.

But the game was also to see which reached the end first, and the winner was promised a prize. If the scissors inadvertently cut off either strip, the player was "out."

"Go!" cried Cousin Jack, "and strive only for the greatest speed consistent with safety. If you go too fast, you're very likely to snip off your strips; and if you go too slow, somebody else will beat you. Hurry up, Ruth, you're going evenly, but you'll never get there at that rate! Oh, hold up, Harry! if you go so fast you'll snip it off. You're terribly close to one edge, now! Ah, there you go! one strip is chopped right off. Well, never mind, my boy, stand here by me, and watch the others. What, Tom out, too? Well, well, Tom, the more haste the less speed! Careful, Midget, you'll be out in a minute. There you go! Out it is, for Mehitabel! Well, we have three still in the running. Easy does it, King! You're getting along finely. Hurry up, Ruth. You can go faster than that, and still be safe. Dick just says nothing and saws wood. That's it, Dick, slow and sure!"

Those who were "out" watched the others with breathless interest. It would have been an easy task had there been no competition. To cut a long paper into two strips is not difficult, but to cut that paper in haste, with others looking on and commenting, is more trying. The scissors seem bewitched. The paper twists and curls, and one's fingers seem to be all thumbs. King was doing well, but he gave an impatient jerk as the paper curled round his finger, and then he was out.

Dick worked steadily, and Ruth plodded slowly along.

As they neared the end at the same time the watchers grew greatly excited.

"I bet on Ruth!" cried King; "go it, Ruth! get up! g'lang there!"

"Go on, Dick," cried Marjorie. "Clk! Clk! go 'long!"

On sped the cutters, but just as it seemed as if they must finish at the same time, Dick gave a little nervous jerk at his paper, and it tore right off.

"Oh," said Midget, "you're out, Dicksie!"

And then Ruth, slowly and carefully, cut the last few inches of her paper, and held up her two strips triumphantly. She looked so sweet and happy about it that they all declared she ought to have been the winner, and Dick said, shyly: "I'm glad you won."

The prize was a shell box that Cousin Jack had brought from Atlantic City, and Ruth dimpled with pleasure as she took it.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Bryant," she said, prettily; "I never won a prize before, and I shall always keep it."

"I'm glad you won it, Ruth," said Cousin Jack, "and I want you to let it help you forget any unpleasantness of to-day. Will you forget all that happened at Sand Court, and just remember that the Maynards and the Craigs are kind and polite children, and never mind about anybody else. And come again some time, and play in Sand Court, won't you? And I'll promise you a good and pleasant time."

Ruth agreed gladly to all this, and then she went home, so happy that the memory of her pleasant hours made her almost forget Hester's rudeness.

"Now, kiddies," said Mr. Bryant, after she had gone, "I want you, too, to forget all about Hester's performance. Don't talk it over, and don't say hard things of Hester. Just forget it, and think about something nice."

"All right, Cousin Jack," said Midget, "we'll do as you say. Come on, boys, let's race down to the beach!"

The children ran away, and after a consultation with Mrs. Maynard, Mr. Bryant set out to make a call on Mrs. Corey.

His was not a pleasant task, but he felt it his duty to tell her frankly of Hester's behavior, and to say that Mr. and Mrs. Maynard couldn't allow her further to impose on their children. Mrs. Corey didn't resent this decree, but she was greatly pained at the necessity therefor.

"I don't know what to do with Hester," she said, sadly. "The child has always been subject to those ungovernable rages. I hope she will outgrow them. I feel sorry for her, for it is not really her fault. She tries to be more patient, and sometimes succeeds; then suddenly her temper breaks out at most unexpected moments."

Mr. Bryant did not say what he thought; that Hester was a spoiled child, and that had her mother taught her how sinful such a temper was, she could have learned to control it, at least, to a degree.

But he said that the Maynards could not allow Hester to come to Sand Court any more, unless with the thorough understanding and agreement that Ruth was to be a member of the Sand Club, and that Marjorie was to be Queen again. He said that Hester had forfeited all right to be Queen, and that as Midget practically formed the club, the right to be Queen was hers.

Mrs. Corey agreed to all this, expressed great chagrin that Hester had acted so rudely, and promised to talk to the child and try to induce a better spirit of kindness and good comradeship.

And Cousin Jack went away, feeling that he had served the little Maynards a good turn, if it had been a difficult and unpleasant duty to perform.

CHAPTER XVIII

A FINE GAME

One Saturday morning, the Maynards and the Bryants sat on the veranda of "Maynard Manor," and every one of them was gazing at the sky.

"It will,—I know it will," said Mrs. Maynard, hopelessly.

"It won't,—I know it won't!" exclaimed Marjorie, smiling at her mother.

"It's bound to," declared Cousin Jack, "and there's no use thinking it won't!"

Of course, they were talking about the rain, which hadn't yet begun to fall, but which, judging from the ominous gray sky and black clouds, would soon do so.

"Yep, there are the first drops now!" cried King, as some black spots suddenly appeared on the veranda steps.

"Yep! that settles it!" Marjorie agreed, "we'll have to give up the trip. What can we do, nice, instead?"

They had planned an all-day motor trip. Mr. Maynard was always at home on Saturdays, and he liked nothing better than to take his family and friends for a ride.

"The nicest thing just now would be to scoot indoors!" said Cousin Jack, as the drops came faster and thicker, and a gust of wind sent the rain dashing at them.

So they all scurried into the house, and gathered in the big living-room to discuss the situation.

"It does seem too bad to have it rain on a Saturday," said Cousin Ethel, looking regretfully out of the window.

"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day," chanted Midget, drumming on the pane with her finger tips.

"Oh, if I were a kiddy, I shouldn't mind it," said Cousin Jack, teasingly, to Marjorie. "There are lots of things you can play. But us poor grown-ups have no fun to look forward to but motoring, and now we can't do that."

"Oh, if I were a grown-up, I shouldn't mind it," said Midget, laughing back at him. "Grown-ups can do anything they like, but kiddies have to do as they're told."