"Wouldn’t Uncle Hal be flattered," teased Mr. Merrill, "if he knew that you talked more about the diner than you do about Class Day!" "Oh, I like Class Day too," declared Mary Jane fingering her new sash, "but I’m glad we have to eat on the train to get there." "For my part I’m glad to eat now," said Mr. Merrill as he sniffed the aroma of Alice’s dumplings, "I know I could eat three, so you’d better hurry off with that finery, Mary Jane, if you want your share." Just twenty-four hours later, the four Merrills boarded the train for Boston. Much to Mary Jane’s interest, the conductor didn’t call "all aboard!" and there wasn’t a bit of excitement at the station. The great train dashed into the residence station where they had decided to board it, hesitated only long enough for the porter to assist the Merrills and their bags onto car 201 and off they went—through the factories and suburbs the girls had seen when they came to Chicago for the first time. Mary Jane pressed close to the window and was eagerly watching the sight of busy city life she could see on the streets as they flashed by, when a white-coated man walked through the car calling "Second call for dinner! Second call for dinner!" "Why we missed the first call!" exclaimed Mary Jane in distress. "Cheer up, pussy," said her father, "that doesn’t happen often." "Well, we won’t miss anything more," announced Mary Jane positively, "’cause I washed my hands the last thing and my gloves kept ’em clean." It didn’t take long to tuck gloves into coat pockets, put hats in a safe place and walk to the diner. And here Mary Jane had a dinner such as she loved, with hashed brown potatoes, and salad and ice cream—to say nothing of meat and bread and butter and a big glass of milk in a creamy white tumbler. "Now tell us what Niagara Falls is going to look like," suggested Alice when they were back in their own car. "Oh, I couldn’t do that," said Mrs. Merrill, "you’ll have to wait till morning. As soon as the porter makes up your berth, you can go to sleep and then, when you wake up, you can see it all for yourself—water—rivers of water! The most water you ever saw! That’s what it is." Mary Jane thought of that sentence the next morning when she wakened. She was alone in the lower berth—evidently mother was out and dressed—and she couldn’t hear a thing but water. Water dashing against the window, water dripping in through the tiny screen at her feet, water sounding on the roof of the car till she couldn’t hear another thing. "Why, we’ve stopped right in the Falls," she cried to herself, as she whirled around to look out of the window, "and it’s like she said, water, water—everything’s water!" *A DAY OF WETNESS* "Alice! Alice! Wake up!" Mary Jane reached her hand behind the curtain into Alice’s berth just ahead and pounded briskly on the cushioned sides.