FOR more than an hour Mary Jane sat and thought as she had planned to; she thought of all the interesting sights she had seen since she left home; she thought of the new friends she had made and of the fun she had had playing in the many places she had been. Then suddenly it occurred to her that their train was standing still.

“Doesn’t this train go like regular trains, Mother?” she asked.

“Evidently not,” replied Mrs. Merrill, who also had been noticing how much time was being lost; “we stop at every corner store, I do believe, and wait to chat about the weather.”

Mary Jane laughed at the idea of a train stopping to talk about the weather. “What’s it saying now?” she asked and she sat up straight and looked out of the window. Such a sight! “Yumy yum, yum!” she cried eagerly. “Mother, may we have some too?”

Mrs. Merrill and Alice had been watching out the window while Mary Jane had been thinking and resting so they knew just what she meant. On either side of the train, stretching as far as a person could see, were rows and rows and rows of—strawberries. Strawberries so big and red and ripe and luscious that they could be seen—those on the nearest vines of course—from the train window. And all the strawberry plants near and far showed signs of being loaded with fruit. Over the rows bent the pickers, busily working, and here and there were groups of workers sorting and packing the berries into boxes and crates ready for shipping. “Oh, Mother!” exclaimed Mary Jane, “I’ll bet they’re taking them onto our train! I just know they are.”

“To be sure!” agreed Mrs. Merrill, “that’s the reason we stop so often. This is the strawberry and lettuce country and every time we stop we take on piles of express that will go to hungry folks up north. Now you know how we get our early lettuce and berries and what sort of a place it comes from.”

“Yes, I know it,” said Mary Jane, “but couldn’t we eat some now.”

“Yes, Mother, couldn’t we?” urged Alice, “just look at those berries!” she added as a team of horses pulled a great wagon by their window—a wagon piled high with crates of strawberries, as they could tell by the glimpses of red fruit inside.

Just then a little negro boy came by their window peddling berries and Mrs. Merrill was able to buy a box of berries for the girls—berries so clean and sweet and ripe that they could be eaten at once without a thought of washing or of sugar.

As the train pulled up for another stop some fifteen minutes later, the Pullman conductor came into their car and spoke to Mrs. Merrill.

“There’s something at this stop that your girls may enjoy seeing,” he said, “and if you will allow me to escort you—”

“Something my girls should see?” questioned Mrs. Merrill in surprise.

“You see, madam,” explained the man, “the cook on the diner we carry has made friends with the pigs on the way and he always likes the children aboard the train to see the fun.”

“Sounds like Greek to me,” said Mrs. Merrill still more puzzled, “but if there is something my girls should see, let’s see it—we don’t want to miss anything!” And taking Mary Jane’s hand and motioning Alice to come too, she followed the conductor through the train.

They went through two cars, then, as the train was just jerking to a stop, the man quickly pulled open the vestibule door and hurried them down the steps to the ground. Ahead of them—just the next car—was the diner. At the high door of the kitchen end of the diner stood a grinning negro. He was dressed all in spotless white and his face fairly shone with joy. In his hands he held a great bucket which was poised as though he was about to empty it out of the door.

“Here you be, missies!” he shouted, grinning and nodding to the children; “now you jes’ watch—here she comes! Here she comes! Betta watch out her way!”

Just at that instant Mrs. Merrill heard a great grunting behind them and dodged out of the way of a great hog who, grunting and sniffing and puffing, was rooting her way along the side of the train. “She knows me!” shouted the cook from his doorway; “now you jes’ watch!”

No need to tell folks to watch! With that great creature grunting near (though the girls did notice that she seemed tame enough) nobody wanted to look at anything else! The hog sniffed along till she found the dining car door; then, with a snort of satisfaction, she raised up on her hind legs, forelegs braced against the train and—yes, the girls could hardly believe it!—ate out of the bucket the cook held for her.

For a few minutes no one said a word, but as the hog’s hunger was partly satisfied the cook jumped down from the car door, the hog dropping down just at the same time and following him, and set the bucket on the ground. In an instant pigs came running from here and there and there was a wild scramble around that bucket!

“He’s trained them—that cook has,” explained the conductor as a whistle from the engine sent them all hurrying back into the train. “We pass here every other day at just this same time and that old cook—he’s just as regular with his bucket of scraps as the road is running the train! And I’ll declare it does seem to me those pigs are the smartest about knowing which is the dining car! They don’t miss it. And that one old hog, he’s got her trained to climb up to the door every time! Who’s ever heard of a cook like that? And he always wants the children on the train to see it—that cook does!”

“Don’t they do the queerest things in Florida!” exclaimed Mary Jane as she settled back into her seat and picked up her box of strawberries again. “First there were orstriches and alligators—’member how they slid down that shoot, Alice?”

“Do I?” cried Alice, laughing at the recollection; “and remember the jelly fish and the crawdads, Mary Jane?” Mary Jane giggled.

“But who would ever have thought of pigs eating from the dining car?” continued Alice.

The ride that afternoon seemed long and the girls had almost tired of drawing pictures and counting stops and talking of the sights they had seen when the twilight brought the porter to light the lamps and the dining car man shouting, “First call for dinner! Dinner in the dining car!”

They were due to get into Jacksonville at seven, but Mrs. Merrill thought as the train was already a little late it would be better for the girls to eat a leisurely dinner on board so that the evening would be free for visiting with their father. So they strolled into the diner and ate chicken (and of course hashed brown potatoes!) and the very best strawberry shortcake they had ever tasted. When the train pulled into Jacksonville at eight o’clock Mr. Merrill was nearly smothered with embraces and with a whirlwind of tales about all they had seen and done. The pretty little station was cleaned and garnished; flowerbeds had been put in order and looked very lovely under the glow of the brilliant lights and there was nothing to mar their happy reunion.

Mr. Merrill’s business was finished that very afternoon and he was free to spend a day in any way the girls liked. Then the next day, they would start back home.

“Dear me!” exclaimed Alice in dismay, “only one day?”

“That’s the wrong way to say it,” said her father; “say all of one day—that sounds a lot more. Now where shall we spend it?”

“Oh, let’s go to St. Augustine,” said Mary Jane eagerly; “where is it?” And she looked around the streets of Jacksonville as though she expected to find it there. “Oh! let’s go to bed first,” mimicked her father laughingly. “You remember you have to ride on the train an hour or more before you get to St. Augustine. Let’s go to bed to-night and then take the first train down to St. Augustine in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Pretty fine!” replied Mary Jane with a little skip of joy.

“But Dadah,” objected Alice, “I feel so celebrating this evening—having you with us and all that! I wish there was something we could do now.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” answered Mr. Merrill, “I feel that same way myself. Let’s get into this taxi,” he suggested as he hailed a passing car, “and ride up to the ‘square’ and get some ice cream and buy a lot of picture post cards for folks back home.”

The “square” was gay enough to suit even Alice. The lights glowed brilliantly among the palms and bright flowers; the band was playing in a stand nearby and the streets on the four sides were filled with people strolling along or making purchases at the many little shops. The Merrills were happy to find just the sorts of cards they wanted to take home. They bought a whole set—pictures of every place they had been—for Alice and another whole set for Mary Jane to keep.

“I wish I had some to take to my kindergarten, I do,” said Mary Jane as she proudly slipped her set into her own little hand bag; “I’d like to take one picture to each person there.”

“How many are there in your room?” asked Mr. Merrill.

“Let me see,” said Mary Jane, counting out the classes, “there’s ten, and nine, and fifteen, and teachers and—how many is that, Dadah?”

“It’s enough for a whole set of cards,” replied Mr. Merrill; “we’ll get fifty and then there will surely be enough.” Mary Jane slipped the second set into her bag and began making plans that very minute about giving them to Miss Lynn.

That was the very first Mary Jane had thought of home and school since the day she had sent the alligators to Doris, more than a week ago. But now that it had once come to her mind, she found herself thinking of the pleasant kindergarten many times through the next days and making plans for what she would do when she returned home.

Early the next morning the Merrills took the train to St. Augustine and spent a happy day exploring the old fort. The tunnels and dungeons made Mary Jane shiver they were so cold and dark and slimy, but the rooms opening onto the main courtyard—the rooms where the soldiers quartered in the fort had lived—the girls thought were lovely. The walls were covered with great plants of beautiful maiden hair fern, the biggest and loveliest the girls had ever seen. Alice thought it would be no hardship to live there though she did admit it would likely be damp!

At the end of the day they went back to Jacksonville in time to catch the nine o’clock limited for the North.

“Just think,” said Mary Jane as she slipped off her stockings and shoes and tucked them into the little hammock by the window of her berth, “I’m going to ride on this train all this night and all to-morrow and all another night and then I’ll be home!”

“I wonder if it’s snowing up there?” Alice was asking as she too began to undress at the same time; “wouldn’t snow seem funny?”