“It will,—­I know it will,” said Mrs. Maynard, hopelessly.

“It won’t,—­I know it won’t!” exclaimed Marjorie, smiling at her mother.

“It’s bound to,” declared Cousin Jack, “and there’s no use thinking it won’t!”

Of course, they were talking about the rain, which hadn’t yet begun to fall, but which, judging from the ominous gray sky and black clouds, would soon do so.

“Yep, there are the first drops now!” cried King, as some black spots suddenly appeared on the veranda steps.

“Yep! that settles it!” Marjorie agreed, “we’ll have to give up the trip.  What can we do, nice, instead?”

They had planned an all-day motor trip.  Mr. Maynard was always at home on Saturdays, and he liked nothing better than to take his family and friends for a ride.

“The nicest thing just now would be to scoot indoors!” said Cousin Jack, as the drops came faster and thicker, and a gust of wind sent the rain dashing at them.

So they all scurried into the house, and gathered in the big living-room to discuss the situation.

“It does seem too bad to have it rain on a Saturday,” said Cousin Ethel, looking regretfully out of the window.

“Rain, rain, go away, come again another day,” chanted Midget, drumming on the pane with her finger tips.

“Oh, if I were a kiddy, I shouldn’t mind it,” said Cousin Jack, teasingly, to Marjorie.  “There are lots of things you can play.  But us poor grown-ups have no fun to look forward to but motoring, and now we can’t do that.”

“Oh, if I were a grown-up, I shouldn’t mind it,” said Midget, laughing back at him.  “Grown-ups can do anything they like, but kiddies have to do as they’re told.”

“Ah, yes,” and Cousin Jack sighed deeply, “but we have sorrows and cares that you know nothing of.”

“Yes,” returned Marjorie, “and we have sorrows and cares that you know nothing of!  I’d like you to change places with us for a day, and see——­”

“All right, we will!” exclaimed Cousin Jack.  “That’s a fine game!  For to-day, we grown-ups will be the children and you and King can play mother and father to us!”

“Oh, what larks!” cried King.  “Let’s begin right away!  Will you, Mother?”

Mrs. Maynard laughed.  “I’ll try it,” she said, “but not for all day.  Say till afternoon.”

“Well, till five o’clock this afternoon,” suggested Marjorie; “will you, Father, will you?”

“I’ll play any game the rest play,” said good-natured Mr. Maynard.  “What do you want me to do?”

“Well, you must obey us implicitly!  King is Father, and I’m Mother, and you four are our children; Helen and Ed, and Ethel and Jack, your names are!  Oh, what fun!  King, what shall we do first?”

“Hear their lessons, I guess.  Now, my dears, I know it’s vacation, but you really ought to study a little each day, to keep your minds from rusting out.”