Marjorie's Busy Days Part 33

"Milk, an' meat, an' 'tatoes, an' pie, an' evvyfing," announced Rosy Posy, folding her chubby hands to await contentedly the filling of her comprehensive order.

Being an Ourday the children were allowed to select whatever they chose from the _menu_, their parents, however, reserving the right of veto.

"I want roast beef," said Kitty, after scanning the more elaborate, but unfamiliar, names.

"Oh, pshaw, Kit," said her brother, "you can have that at home! Why don't you take something different? It's more of a treat. I choose Supreme of Chicken."

"I don't like soup," said Kitty, innocently, and then they all laughed.

"I think I'll have lobster salad," announced Marjorie, after long study.

"I think you won't," said her father, promptly. "n.o.body's to be ill this afternoon, and that's a risky dish for little folks. Try again, sister."

Marjorie cheerfully made another perusal of the bill of fare, and at last declared in favor of chicken hash.

This was willingly allowed, and when Kitty decided on an omelette with jelly, her choice was also commended. Mrs. Maynard added a few wise selections, which were for the good of all concerned, and each chose a favorite ice-cream.

"Oh, what a good time we're having!" said Marjorie. "I do love to eat at a restaurant."

"It is pleasant once in a while," said her father. "But for daily food, give me my own family table."

"Yes, indeed," agreed Marjorie; "I wouldn't like to _live_ in a restaurant."

After luncheon they visited the great "rocking-stone." The immense rock, weighing many tons, was poised on a tiny base, and it almost seemed as if Rosy Posy might push it over, so unstable did it look.

But indeed she couldn't, nor any of the others, though it was said that a pressure of fifty pounds could make the great stone rock on its base.

"And now," said Mr. Maynard, "we're really getting into the Zoo part of our day. This, Rosy Posy, is your Bongzoo, and first of all here are the bears."

Delightedly all the children viewed the bears. The great creatures seemed so mild and gentle, and played with one another in such kittenish fashion, that even Rosy Posy felt no fear of them. There were various species, from the big grizzlies to the little brown cinnamon bears, and all waddled about in a state of comfortable fatness, or lay in the sun and slept peacefully.

The lions and tigers were far less placid. They stalked up and down their small cages, and now and then growled or roared as if very weary of their long and solitary confinement.

"He wants to come out," said Rosy Posy, of a particularly big and ferocious-looking lion. "Let him out, Father, he wants to play wiv us."

"Oh! I think I'd better not, Baby. He might run away and forget to come back."

"No," insisted the child; "I'll put my arms round him, an' make him stay wiv me."

"We won't have time now, Rosy Posy," said King. "We're going on now to see the panthers and wolves. Come along with brother."

So the child slipped her little hand in King's, and they led the family procession for a while.

The monkeys were a great source of amus.e.m.e.nt, and Rosy Posy thought some of the chimpanzees were little old men, they chattered so glibly.

But the birds proved a delight to all.

"Oh!" cried Marjorie. "Will you look at those red and blue parrots!"

"Parrakeets," corrected Mr. Maynard. "And fine ones, too. And how beautiful are the white ones with yellow topknots."

They studied, with some care, the names and homes of the birds, and learned to distinguish the toucans and orioles and other beautiful, bright-colored species.

Then on to the big, wise-eyed owls, who blinked and winked at them in a sleepy sort of a way.

The eagles came next, and all were proud of the National bird, as they viewed the fine specimens on exhibition. The bald eagle and the white eagle were favorites, and the vultures and condors were disliked by all.

An interesting structure was an immense cage, which was larger than any house, and entirely open to view. They walked round all four sides of it, and were enchanted with its beautiful occupants pants. Storks and flamingoes stood about, on one leg, motionless, as if absorbed in deep contemplation. Pelicans, with their strange bills, and ducks of most brilliant plumage waddled around and seemed to be entirely interested in their eager audience.

In another enclosure, cranes and adjutant birds flapped their great wings, and made long, hopping jumps, and then stood still, as if posing for their pictures.

Marjorie proved herself specially quick in picking out each bird, from its descriptive placard, and she learned the names, both English and Latin, of many of them.

"You don't mind going to school this way, do you. Midget?" asked her father.

"Not a bit! I love it. If I could learn all my lessons out of doors, and with you to help teach me, I'd be willing to study all the time."

"Well, we must come here again some day," said Mr. Maynard, "and see if you remember all these jawbreaker names. Now, let's visit the beavers."

The beaver pond was a strange sight, indeed. Originally there had been many tall trees standing in the swampy enclosure, but now nearly all of them lay flat in the water. The little busy beavers had gnawed around and into the trunks, near the ground, until the tree toppled and fell over.

"Why do they do it, Father?" asked King, greatly interested.

"They want to make bridges across the water," answered Mr. Maynard. "It shows a wonderful sagacity, for they gnaw the trunk of the tree, at first such a place, and in just such a way, that the tree will fall exactly in the direction they want it to."

"They must scamper to get out of the way when a tree is about to fall,"

observed Mrs. Maynard.

"Indeed, they do," said her husband. "They are very clever, and most patient and untiring workers. See, the trunks they have gnawed have been protected by wire netting that visitors may see them. And some of the standing trees are protected near the ground by wire netting that they may not be upset at present."

"Now I know my beaver lesson," said Marjorie; "let's go on. Father, I think I'll change that piece I spoke in school to 'How doth the busy little beaver,' instead of bee!"

"They're equally busy creatures, my dear. You may take a lesson from either or both."

"No, thank you. I don't want to work _all_ the time. I'll be a b.u.t.terfly sometimes, 'specially on Ourdays."

Marjorie jumped and fluttered about more like a gra.s.shopper than anything else, and, swinging by her father's hand, they pa.s.sed on to the deer ranges.

Here were all sorts of deer, and the gentle, timid-eyed creatures came tamely to the railings or nettings and made friends with the visitors.

"It would be fun to feed them," said Mr. Maynard, "but it's strictly forbidden, so we can only talk to them, and hope that they understand.

And now, my infants, the sun is travelling homeward, and I think we'll take our next lesson from him. Would you rather have some sandwiches and ice-cream now, or wait until you get home, to refresh yourselves?"

"Now, now, now!" chorused the whole party.

"Do you know, I thought you'd say that," said Mr. Maynard. "So suppose we go into this pleasant-looking tea-room, and have a social hour."

"This makes twice for ice-cream, to-day," observed Kitty, as she lovingly ate her favorite dainty. "And do we have it to-night for dinner, Mother?"