Mary Jane thought that five o'clock would never come—never! She looked at the clock and looked at the clock and she asked mother and Alice to tell her the time so as to be sure she herself wasn't mistaken in what the clock said. But finally lunch time was passed, and rest time, and then Mary Jane knew it wouldn't be very long till five o'clock.

"Now, I'm going to dress for my secret," she said when her rest was finished.

"That's just what I came to see you about," said Mrs. Merrill, who came into Mary Jane's room at that minute, "you'd better put on this little dress." And she held up a little, old, dark blue morning dress—not at all the sort of dress that a little girl would wear to an afternoon secret, Mary Jane was sure of that.

"Why, mother!" exclaimed the little girl, "you don't mean me to wear that!"

"I surely do," said Mrs. Merrill, pleasantly; "it's just the right kind of a dress for this secret."

"But Daddah's secret is a nice secret," said Mary Jane positively.

"His secrets always are," agreed her mother.

"And nice secrets ought to have nice dresses," said Mary Jane.

"Nice secrets ought to have dresses that belong to them," corrected Mrs.
Merrill. "We don't talk about things that are decided," reminded Mrs.
Merrill. "Put on the blue dress and come downstairs, Mary Jane. I'm sure
you will be glad—when father comes home."

So Mary Jane put on the blue dress, but she wasn't very happy about it; she felt sure, certain all the time that she was dressing, that Daddah would be disappointed when he saw her. And she began to wonder if the secret was so very wonderful after all; it didn't sound so wonderful if an old dress went with it—in the afternoon!

But even though she was disappointed and a bit doubtful, she went down to the front porch and sat on the step where she could see father the minute he turned the corner of Fifth Street.

"Isn't this a fine day to be out of doors!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill, contentedly. "See Mr. Robin out there, digging away for his family? He has a hard time hunting worms in the grass. I expect he wishes we had a newly dug garden around this place." Mary Jane looked up indifferently, just in time to see a twinkle in her mother's eye. Did the twinkle have anything to do with the secret? Mary Jane wondered.

"What would he do with a garden?" she asked.

"Get worms out of it," answered Mrs. Merrill.

"But isn't he getting worms out of the yard?" asked Mary Jane, looking out to where the robin was industriously pecking at the ground.

"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Merrill, "of course he is; but see how he has to work! Now if that yard was all dug up nicely for a garden, the worms would be plain to see and all he would have to do would be to pick them out. Think how much easier that would be."

Mary Jane didn't answer. She looked out at the robin, but someway, she couldn't quite take an interest in his affairs; she was too busy thinking about her own secret and how disappointed Daddah would be when he saw that old dress.

And then, just as she was going to ask the time, she spied him coming around the corner. And she forgot all about dresses and remembered only the secret. Down the steps, along the walk and out to the street she ran, reaching the curbstone just as he pulled the car alongside.

"Hop in and ride around," he said, gayly. And then, as she climbed in he added, "Lucky you put that dress on. I forgot to tell you to be ready with something old. Now that you are we won't have to waste time changing."

Mary Jane stared. But seeing he seemed pleased, she said nothing about all her worries over the old dress.

"Do we have the secret in the car?" she asked.

"Dear me, no!" laughed father, "it's plain to see that you haven't guessed what it is. We'll put the car in the garage and then, while I slip on some old clothes to match yours, you may open that bundle in the back, there. It's part of the secret."

Mary Jane peered over the back of her seat at the queer looking bundle in the car. It was about as tall as she was, she decided, and bigger around than her two hands could reach and wrapped in brown paper and tied three times with very heavy twine. Now what could that be?

Father set her down in the garage and handed her the package and then hurried off into the house.

She tried to pull the strings off but they wouldn't pull; there seemed to be a bunch of the wrapping paper at one end and a hump inside the parcel at the other. So she decided to run in for mother's scissors.

But just as she got to the back steps, she met father coming out—it hadn't taken him long to get into old clothes, that was certain.

"Never mind about the scissors, Blunderbuss," said he laughingly, using a name he sometimes called her, "I'll take my knife."

Just three slashes of the sharp knife and the strings were off. Mary Jane opened the paper with shaking fingers, she was that excited. And what do you suppose she found?

A garden set—a spade and a hoe and a rake all just the right size for a little girl to work with and so pretty and clean and new that Mary Jane knew that they had been purchased on purpose for her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands and dancing around, "it's a garden! I know the secret now! It's a garden! That's what mother was trying to make me guess and I never thought! May I have one all my very ownest own?"

"That's the secret," admitted Mr. Merrill, "and the garden is for you only—just as long as you take care of it. Now you take your tools and I'll take mine and we'll see where this garden is to be."

They paraded out of the garage and over to where the last summer's garden had been. "I've been meaning to get at this for a week," said Mr. Merrill, "but I hate to work alone. If you'll help me, we can have the finest garden ever. Now where do you want yours to be?"

Mary Jane looked around thoughtfully. There was the rose bed—she surely couldn't have that, it belonged to mother. And the asparagus bed, it was already showing shoots of green. "I guess I'll take next door to the rose bed," she decided promptly, "because I like roses. Can I dig it all myself?"

"Pretty soon," said father. "I dig first with the big spade. Then you dig with yours. Then I hoe it—I'll show you how when we're ready; and you hoe with your hoe." And he set to work.

"Then do the things just grow?" asked Mary Jane as she watched him.

"Not till we plant them," answered her father. "What are you going to have?"

"Worms for the robin so he won't have to work so hard," said Mary Jane promptly, "and a lot of flowers."

"I guess you won't have to worry about the worms," laughed Mr. Merrill as he turned over a big spadeful of earth, "Mr. Robin will find plenty—see? I'll make a guess that he's watching us from the apple tree this very minute! Suppose you run into the garage and look on the table there. You'll find packages of seeds. Bring them out here and we'll see which you want in your bed."

While Mr. Merrill gave the earth its heavy spading, Mary Jane got the bright colored seed packages and spread them out on the sidewalk. Then as she spelled out the letters, her father told her what each package contained. Lettuce and radishes and nasturtiums and carrots and candy-tuft and—

"Here's one that's me!" exclaimed Mary Jane suddenly. She knew a very few words and her own name was one of them.

"I thought you would find that," said Mr. Merrill, "so I bought that on purpose for you. It's Marygold and you may have it in your bed, if you like."

By that time the earth in her garden was turned and Mary Jane set to work spading and hoeing just as hard as ever she could. She worked on one side and her father worked on the other and very soon the earth was ready for planting.

"Now," said Mr. Merrill, "while I loosen the earth around mother's rose bushes, you make your trenches for the seeds." And he showed her just how it was to be done.

[Illustration: "Here's one that's me!" exclaimed Mary Jane suddenly.]

Mary Jane never felt so big, and grown-up and important in her life as when she made those trenches with her bright new hoe. She worked and worked till they were neat and even and exactly right. Then her father stopped his digging and together they opened three packages and planted the seeds. The nasturtiums went in front, because they were the smallest plants, father said; then the Marygolds that grow so straight and tall; and then, because father said every garden should have something useful as well as something beautiful, back of the Marygolds, a row of early lettuce.

Just as the last bit of earth was patted down over the last row of seeds,
Mrs. Merrill called from the back door that dinner was about ready.

"And we're hungry enough to eat it, aren't we, Mary Jane?" asked Mr. Merrill. "You put away your tools and run in and wash while I tend to my big ones and get myself ready. Let's see who's the quickest!"

How Mary Jane did hustle! She set her new tools in the far corner of the garage and then ran skipping into the house.

"Scrub your hands good, dear," said her mother as she hurried through the kitchen. "Wash your face and then run upstairs and get your blue smock and plaid ribbon. Dark blue dresses are the thing for gardening, but we like gay frocks for dinner, don't we, sweetheart?"

And yet, with all that washing and dressing, Mary Jane reached the table first—that just shows how fast she could hurry when she was racing with father. Or maybe it was because she was so hungry. For she had three big helpings of her favorite mashed potatoes—think of that!

"First thing in the morning, know what I'm going to do?" she announced as she ate the last bite, "I'm going to get Doris to see my garden, she'll like my flowers, I know."

"You can get Doris," laughed her father, "but don't expect flowers in the morning. It will take them ten days to peep out of the ground. But don't you worry, you'll like to show Doris the garden before it grows."

"I will," replied Mary Jane, "I'll do it tomorrow."