"You don't want that for breakfast!" laughed Daddy Bunker, turning
around, for he was walking ahead with Russ.

"I like strawberry shortcake," went on Violet. "It's good and mother
said they had good things in a rest'ant. I want strawberry shortcake."

"Well, you shall have some if we can get it," promised Mother Bunker,
for Violet was talking quite loudly, and several persons on the street,
hearing her, looked down at the little girl and smiled.

"All right," said Vi. "I'm glad I'm going to get strawberry shortcake in
the rest'ant. What makes 'em call it a rest'ant, Daddy? Does an ant
rest there? And why doesn't Aunt Jo come to one an' rest?"

"I'll tell you about it when we get there," said her father.

The restaurant was not far from where they were to take the boat for
Atlantic Highlands, and, though it was rather early in the morning,
quite a number of persons were at breakfast.

There was a smell of many things being cooked, and the rattle of dishes,
and of knives, forks and spoons made such a clatter that it sounded as
though every one was in a great hurry.

"Are all these people going down to the seashore like us?" asked Violet,
who seemed to have many questions to ask that day.

"Oh, no," answered her father. "They are just hungry, and they want
their breakfast. Perhaps some of them have been traveling all night, as