It wasn’t hard to guess what Mary Jane had found; nothing but her precious doll cart could have made her feel and look so happy. They all ran to the end of the porch, looked over the edge, and there, sure enough, was the birthday cart all tumbled down in a heap. Alice and Frances jumped down, set it up straight and then, with Mrs. Merrill’s help from above, lifted it up to the porch just as the policeman and Mrs. Holden came out of the house.

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the officer. “Another cart?”

“No, it’s mine!” cried Mary Jane happily. She ran her hands over the hood, the body part and then the wheels to make sure nothing was broken. Everything seemed all right, even the bag of taffy apples was still tucked under the carriage robe that had come loose but had not fallen clear out.

“Yours?” asked the officer. “But I thought yours was lost!”

“It was,” admitted Mary Jane, “but it isn’t any more.”

Mrs. Merrill hastened to explain that the cart had just then been discovered on the ground at the end of the porch.

“I know what was the trouble,” said Frances, “she didn’t fasten the brake—did you, Mary Jane?”

Mary Jane and the policeman bent down to inspect the brake. No, it wasn’t fastened.

“It wouldn’t take much of a breeze to blow that cart off the porch, young lady,” said the officer, laughingly, “and so I suggest that if you ever want to leave your doll in the cart, you’d better be sure the brake is locked. You might have a smashed doll instead of a lost cart to report and then things wouldn’t be so easy to straighten out!” And with a pleasant good-by he went on about his business.

Left alone the two mothers looked at each other and laughed—such an easy ending to disappointment didn’t often come! The four girls made a dive for the bag of apples and settled themselves on the broad front steps for a few minutes of real enjoyment. Mary Jane found that taffy apples were a lot of fun to eat. The hard, slick surface was delicious to “lick” and then, when a small part was licked thin, it was fun to bite right straight through to the apple.

“If you think they’re good now,” said Frances, “you should taste them in the fall when the fresh apples are in—yummy-um!”

“These are good enough for me,” said Betty contentedly and she bit off a big chunk of apple.

“Betty Holden!” exclaimed Frances with big sisterly chagrin, “you look like a monkey with that apple all over your face!”

“Oh, fiddle!” replied Betty indifferently, “I like monkeys.”

“Did you ever see one?” asked Mary Jane, “a really truly live one?”

Betty stared. “Why of course!” she answered, “haven’t you?”

Mary Jane shook her head.

“Well then you ought to go up to the Zoo,” she said positively, “let’s all go.” She jumped up and ran over to her mother. “Mother!” she announced, “Mary Jane’s never seen a monkey—never! Can’t we take her up to the Zoo and show ’em to her?”

“Never seen a monkey!” exclaimed Mrs. Holden and she was as surprised as Betty had been, “are you sure?”

“Yes, Betty’s right,” said Mrs. Merrill. “Mary Jane has seen a great many things for a little girl who has just had her sixth birthday. But she hasn’t seen a monkey. Her father and I were saying only last night that we must take the girls up to the Zoo as soon as possible.”

“Let’s all go next Saturday,” suggested Mrs. Holden, “no, we can’t go next Saturday because the girls and I have some shopping to do. Let’s go a week from Saturday. By that time the restaurant in Lincoln Park will be open. The way we do,” she explained to the Merrills, “is to take our lunch, a picnic lunch, with us. We start up about eleven, eat over by the lake and then have the whole afternoon for watching the animals; we eat dinner in that nice restaurant, before dark, and then come home in the early evening. Can you all go on that day?”

Mrs. Merrill said she was sure they could, so plans were made right then and there.

Mary Jane and Alice thought those two weeks, or nearly two weeks, never would pass. Of course there was the doll cart to play with and Mary Jane loved it exactly as much as ever. But she did want to see the monkeys, and the foxes (Betty told her she would love the foxes!) and all the creatures that Betty seemed to know so much about and which she had never even seen.

But at last the morning came, warm and sunny and clear and the lunch boxes were packed, the apartment locked up and everybody started toward Lincoln Park feeling happy and ready for fun. The fathers couldn’t come for lunch, but really when all the Holden girls and boys were added to the three Merrills, there was such a crowd that, for the time at least, fathers weren’t so very much missed.

When they reached the park Mary Jane realized, for the first time, how close it was getting to really truly summer. The sun shone with real summer warmth, the lake was blue and beautiful and flowers bloomed on every corner.

“Oh, I’d just like to live in a park all the time,” she exclaimed as she looked around her, “it seems just like home!”

“Yes, it does,” said Mrs. Merrill, with a wee bit of a sigh, “I’m afraid I know some folks who are going to miss their gardens and flower bed this summer.”

“How stupid of me not to have thought of that!” exclaimed Mrs. Holden. “You know it will be just two weeks now till we go up to the lake for all the summer. Why didn’t I think to have you plant stuff in our back garden? Then you could have all the garden you liked right there handy—we always do hate to leave the ground idle.”

“Perhaps we might plant something even yet,” suggested Mrs. Merrill, much delighted with the idea, “we’d love to try.”

But there was no time for further planning just then—John Holden demanded his lunch; Betty made a lively second and in a minute or two a clean grassy place was picked out, the individual lunch boxes were passed out and then, for a few minutes, everybody was quiet.

“I’m going to feed the black bear,” announced Betty, as she paused to pick out another sandwich, “I’m going to feed him peanuts—I saved up enough money for two bagsful.”

“But aren’t you afraid of him?” asked Mary Jane breathlessly.

“Afraid? Pooh!” grunted Betty.

“Never you mind, Mary Jane,” said Linn comfortingly, “she was afraid the first time she saw him and I remember all about it. But now she’s learned that he can’t get out the cage.”

“Now, Linn, I never—” began Betty.

But John interrupted. “There!” he said, “I’m through. Come on, let’s gather up the boxes and papers and stick ’em in the trash box on the way to get the peanuts.” So the children all helped and in a jiffy the pretty, grassy spot where they had eaten lunch was as clean and tidy as when they came. And then away they scampered after the peanuts.

Such an afternoon as it was! Mary Jane tried to remember each thing they did so she could tell her father when he met them after three o’clock. But she couldn’t remember half what they had done. She knew they saw the little foxes—such pretty, dainty white and tan colored foxes that played together like little pet kittens and made her want to hold them in her lap and pet them. She knew they saw the bears—great big bears and middle sized bears and little bit o’ bears just like in the story book, and she fed them peanuts which they caught very deftly in their soft cushioned paws. But all the rest, she really couldn’t remember in the right order—there were kangaroos and buffaloes and a giraffe who stuck his long neck over the top of a great high fence and made Mary Jane think of nothing so much as a funny paper picture. And then of course the monkeys—dozens of them and queer birds with curious colored feathers and funny bills and feet. Really, she had seen in that one afternoon, more animals than she had guessed lived in the whole world, oh, many more!

“But have you seen the seals?” asked Mr. Merrill who met them at the bird house.

No, they hadn’t.

“It’s almost four o’clock,” said Mr. Merrill, looking at his watch, “and Mr. Holden said they ate at four and we should meet him there, so let’s hurry.”

It was a good thing they did hurry for other folks seemed to know, too, that the seals were fed at four. From all directions, folks could be seen walking toward the big enclosed pond where the seals were kept. But, by hurrying, they got there in time to stand close to the iron fence where they could see the antics of those queerest of animals, the seals.

One would suppose that even the seals knew it was nearly four o’clock, dinner time, for they were so excited and eager. They barked and swam and flung themselves around vigorously as though they could hardly stand waiting for anything. Then, just at four, a man came out of a near-by building. In his hand he carried a basket of fish—a great, well-filled basket. He came over to a little platform close by where the Merrill and Holden children were standing; so they could see everything.

He picked up a big fish, tossed it over into the rocky island in the middle of the seals’ pond and then! such a scrambling as there was till the middle-sized seal with a few ungainly flops, grabbed the fish and gulped it down in one bite.

Then he threw another fish and another and another—one after the other so fast that Mary Jane felt sure the seals must get all mixed up about catching them. But they didn’t. Those seals must have been smarter than folks had thought for they seemed to know, every time, just about where the fish was to hit on the rocks and to know, too, just how to get to that particular spot the quickest. Mary Jane thought it very wonderful.

But one thing worried her. There was one small seal, who for some reason or other, seemed to be always just a second too late to get a fish. Mary Jane was sure he had had but one and all the others had had, oh, a lot. And she couldn’t help wishing all the others wouldn’t be quite so grabby.

When the man who was feeding the seals got almost to the bottom of his big basket, he stopped and looked at the crowd of children assembled for the feeding. And as he looked, he spied Mary Jane’s sober little face.

“Don’t you like to watch them?” he asked her in surprise.

“Yes, I like to only they’re so grabby,” she replied promptly, “and he hasn’t had but one.” She pointed out the little seal who was a bit too slow.

“We’ll fix that,” said the keeper, kindly, “you just watch.”

He tossed a great big fish close to the crowd of waiting seals, then, quick as a flash and before they had had time to get that one, he tossed another, straight at the little seal who was on the edge of the crowd.

“He got it! He got it!” cried Mary Jane happily, “he got it before they had a chance!”

“And he’s going to get another,” said the keeper as he threw another and still another, straight at the hungry little seal. “There!” he added as he looked at the now empty basket, “that ought to do him till to-morrow.” Mary Jane thought he looked so comfortable now that surely he had had as much as he needed for the day.

“Better hurry if we’re to see the lions eat,” said Mr. Holden, who during the seals’ dining hour had come up behind his little party.

“Lions!” exclaimed Mary Jane.

“Yes, hurry up!” called Betty and she and her brother who were quite familiar with the park because of many previous visits, ran on toward a big brick house near by.

Mary Jane wasn’t afraid, but all the same she thought it would be more fun to hold her father’s hand and even though they were a bit behind, they got into the lions’ house in time.

Here the dinner was of meat, great big chunks of raw, red meat that the keepers tossed into the cages. And it was so funny to watch! Just before the keeper appeared, the lions and tigers and jackals and leopards were pacing up and down their cages with such weird roars and grunts and growls that Mary Jane held tightly to her father’s hand and didn’t go very close to the iron bars. But when the keepers appeared with the meat there was a wild scramble, and then silence except for the crunching and smacking of eating. It certainly was different, oh, very, very different from anything Mary Jane had ever seen before!

“Let’s not wait here any more,” suggested Alice, “let’s show Dadah the monkeys.”

“Yes, and the foxes—the white ones,” said Mary Jane, “they’re my favorites of all.”

But before they had had time to show Mr. Merrill every single creature they had seen, the Holden boys announced that they were hungry and that it was long past dinner time. And sure enough! Even though it wasn’t really long past dinner time, it was half past five—the time they had agreed upon for dinner. So a very jolly party seated themselves at a big round table on a second story porch of the Park restaurant. That was the nicest place to eat Mary Jane had ever seen—unless perhaps a diner on a train. For after they gave their order, she discovered that they could look right down on a small lake where ducks and geese and swans lived. The children got so interested watching the pretty creatures that for once they didn’t have time to think the waiter was slow!

They stayed there eating and watching the birds, till the sun set back of the trees. Then, when there wasn’t another scrap of cake or teaspoonful of ice cream left, they gathered up wraps and hats and started for home.

“I know one thing,” said sleepy Mary Jane as they waited for the bus that was to take them to their train. “I know there’re a lot more animal folks in the world than I thought for—oh, a lot more! And I think I’d better come again to see them all.”