“Well, Midget,” said Uncle Steve, as they were seated at the supper table, “does the old place look the same?”

“No, indeed, Uncle; there are lots of changes, but best of all is my beauty room.  I never saw anything so lovely; I just want to stay up there all the time.”

“I thought you’d like that shelf.  Now you have room for all the thousand and one bits of rubbish that you accumulate through the summer.”

“’Tisn’t rubbish!” exclaimed Marjorie, indignantly; “it’s dear little birds’ nests, and queer kinds of rocks, and branches of strange trees and grasses and things.”

“Well, I only meant it sounds to me like rubbish,” said Uncle Steve, who loved to tease her about her enthusiasms.

But she only smiled good-naturedly, for she well knew that Uncle Steve was the very one who would take her for long walks in the woods, on purpose to gather this very “rubbish.”

The next day Marjorie was up bright and early, quite ready for any pleasure that might offer itself.

Her mother went back home that day, and though Marjorie felt a little sad at parting, yet, after all, Grandma Sherwood’s house was like a second home, and there was too much novelty and entertainment all about to allow time for feeling sad.

Moreover, Marjorie was of a merry, happy disposition.  It was natural to her to make the best of everything, and even had she had reasons for being truly miserable, she would have tried to be happy in spite of them.

So she bade her mother good-by, and sent loving messages to all at home, and promised to write often.

“Remember,” said her mother, as a parting injunction, “to read every morning the list I gave you, which includes all my commands for the summer.  When I see you again I shall expect you to tell me that you obeyed them all.”

“I will try,” said Marjorie; “but if it is a long list I may forget some of them sometimes.  You know, Mother, I am forgetful.”

“You are, indeed,” said Mrs. Maynard, smiling; “but if you’ll try I think you’ll succeed, at least fairly well.  Good-by now, dear; I must be off; and do you go at once to your room and read over the list so as to start the day right.”

“I will,” said Marjorie, and as soon as she had waved a last good-by, and the carriage had disappeared from view, she ran to her room, and sitting down at her pretty desk, unfolded the list her mother had given her.

To her great surprise, instead of the long list she had expected to find, there were only two items.  The first was, “Keep your hands clean, and your hair tidy”; and the other read, “Obey Grandma implicitly.”

“Well,” thought Marjorie to herself, “I can easily manage those two!  And yet,” she thought further, with a little sigh, “they’re awfully hard ones.  My hands just won’t keep clean, and my hair ribbon is forever coming off!  And of course I mean to obey Grandma always; but sometimes she’s awful strict, and sometimes I forget what she told me.”