The Party.

Great preparations were made for Amy's seventh birthday. Uncle Dick, who was an electrician, sent a number of portable electric lamps to help in the decorations.

Aunt Lucy proposed having tableaux and pieces for the evening entertainment, as a welcome home to Papa Allen, who was expected soon to return from his Western trip.

Amy wanted everything arranged in "sevens," as she expressed it. So she invited seven girls and seven boys and seven grown up people. There were to be seven kinds of candy and cakes, etc., and Mamma and Aunt Lucy worked with all their hearts to make Amy's seventh birthday a never-to-be-forgotten pleasure.

It was agreed that every eatable which was set on the table for the children, should be made at home, so Miss Sweetwood, who was an expert in candy making, came to spend a week, and devoted her time to the manufacture of all manner of dainty bonbons.

Aunt Lucy and Hetty took charge of the cooking, and the birthday cake came from their hands a most beautiful, as well as delicious, confection. There were seven sugar ornaments made like sconces to hold the candles, the one in the centre resembling a white lily, was for a blessed candle; Mrs. Allen always managed to smuggle a pious thought into every act connected with the children.

[Pg 19]
[Pg 20]

Two days before the party, Papa Allen arrived, bringing a present for Amy, which was received with wildest shouts of delight from both children, but was not so welcome to the grown-up members of the family, viz.—A goat.

Hetty came to bid a "welcome home" with the rest of the family, but held up her hands when she saw the new arrival and exclaimed. "Fo' de land's sake! Massa Allen, you done brought a match for Bolax now, for sure."

Early on the morning of the twenty-first, before anyone else in the house thought of stirring, Bo's eyes were wide open.

A robin perched on a bough of an apple tree just outside the window, was singing his merriest, the sun was shining straight into the room and upon Bo's crib. "Guess that sun woke me up," said he, watching with delight the bright beams as they glanced and shimmered about the walls and over the carpet. "When it gets to Mamma's bed it will wake her up too." "Oh! I'm so tired waiting." Then jumping out of his crib, he ran over to Amy's bed, and sang out. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Hurrah! for your birthday, sister." Amy rubbed her eyes, and having made the sign of the cross, for she never forgot to give her first thought to God, was ready to join Bolax in hurrahing for the anticipated pleasures of the day.

First of all, the goat was remembered, and scarcely waiting to dress, both children ran to play with the new pet.

For a short time Bo allowed Amy to enjoy her present, but soon he began to tease, and would not let her lead the goat where she pleased.

"It's my own pet!" cried she, "Papa brought it to me." "Well," said Bo, "you might let me have a lend of it." "Yes, but you take such a long lend, and you are so cruel," and Amy tried to pull the goat away, but Bo held on, screaming and getting into a temper.

Papa heard the noise and called out to know the cause of the disturbance. "Papa," said the gentle little girl, "I am willing to let Bo have Nanny for a long time, but he won't give me a chance to play with her at all, and he's tormenting the poor thing, making Don bark at her, just to see her try to butt."

Aunt Lucy ran out to settle the dispute. Just then the breakfast bell rang and Nanny was left in peace. After breakfast Mamma recommended the children not to tire themselves, as the party would begin at four o'clock in the afternoon, and they must be ready to receive their little friends and help to amuse them. But nothing would induce Bo to give up playing with the goat, at dinner time he was still taking "one more lend of her."

Gentle Amy, who generally gave up to her little brother, could not help feeling sorry for the unfortunate animal, and begged to have it sent to the stable.

"Bo, dear," said Aunt Lucy, "do let poor Nanny rest a while, you have not given her time to eat today." "Why Auntie she's had lots to eat. I gave her two of my handkerchiefs, and one of Amy's, and she ate them up, but she seems not to like colored handkerchiefs, for I gave her one of Hetty's, and she just took a bite, then spit it out."

Hetty happened to come to the pump just as Bo was showing the handkerchief, and she fairly screamed when she saw it.

"For de land's sake! you Bolax. Look what you been a doin'. Here's my best Bandanna half chewed up by dat goat." "Well, Hetty, you told me goats like to eat clothes, and I thought your bandanna would taste good to Nanny, because it is so pretty, but she didn't like it."

"Oh, you just shut up, you bad boy: you is made up of mischief; you' bones is full of it. Clar to goodness, I never was so put upon, no time, no whars."

Bo was very much surprised at Hetty's outburst of anger and looked quite frightened, he offered to give her all the pennies in his bank to buy a new bandanna, but she would not be pacified, and still continued to scold.

"Hetty, dear," said the little culprit, "please don't speak so hard, it hurts my heart." But angry Hetty continued with: "You certainly is one of dem. Massa Bo, you'se done so much mischief dis here day, and it's Miss Amy's birthday too; if I was you I'd go to de Oritey and pray de good Lord to hold you in, if He kin, just for de rest of dis day. I'se afraid you g'wine to spile all de fun dis arternoon by some of your fool tricks."

Bo seeing Hetty was determined to remain angry, ran off to escape further scolding. When he was gone Aunt Lucy told Hetty she must blame herself for the loss of her handkerchief, as she had told the child about the calves and goats feeding on such things. "You see, Hetty, as yet Bo does not know what an untruth means, and cannot distinguish between joke and earnest, he firmly believes all that grown up people tell him, and I have no doubt, thought that he was giving a dainty morsel to the goat, when he offered her your best bandanna."

"Oh you! Miss Lucy, you always takes up for dat boy."

"Yes, and there's some one else, 'takes up' for him, sometimes, and her name is Hetty."

At three o'clock Mamma and Aunt Lucy dressed the children. Amy was as usual in blue and white, for she had been consecrated to the Blessed Virgin, from the time she was a baby. Her dress for the occasion was very beautiful, trimmed with soft laces, a present from her Godmother, and she looked like a little princess, with her long golden curls and dark eyes.

Bo wore his black velvet kilt, with a large lace collar, and the sweet little face, peeping out from beneath his crown of curls, might have been taken for something angelic, if one did not get a glimpse of his mischievous gray eye.

Promptly at four, the children trooped in; Amy did the honors in a most charming manner, and Bo amused the boys by showing them his numerous pets. Games of all kinds were played, and judging from the laughter and noise, Amy's guests were having what is called "a good time."

Never was there a more glorious twenty-first of June; the sky was so blue and bright, not the least bit of a cloud was to be seen, the air was balmy and entirely free from dampness, so the table for the children was set under the trees on the lawn. A snowy white cloth was spread and places arranged for fourteen. Before each cover was a pretty box containing candied fruit, to each box was attached a card with these words in gilt letters: From Amy to her friends; this was to be carried home as a souvenir. In the centre of the table the birthday cake stood on a bank of red and white roses. These bouquets of flowers were placed between pyramids of ice cream and mounds of toothsome dainties. Delicious white and red and pink raspberries were served on plates resembling green leaves.

As the clock struck six, the children were called to take their places at the table, but just as they were seated, who should walk up the garden path, but Father Leonard, the dearest friend of the family. Mr. and Mrs. Allen hastened to greet him: "Well, well," said he, "what is all this?" Amy ran to welcome her favorite and told him it was her birthday party. "Now my little daughter," said the good father. "I feel very much slighted at not receiving an invitation." "Oh!" replied the little lady, "please do not be offended, but come sit at the head of the table and ask blessing on my feast." This the good father did most joyfully, and when the youngsters were seated, every one showed his appreciation of the good things by the dispatch with which the platters were cleared. Aunt Lucy's famous drop cakes disappeared in such numbers, that some of the Mammas began to fear they would have to nurse cases of indigestion.

At length the time came to cut the birthday cake. The seven candles upon it had remained lighted during the repast and Mr. Allen put them out before dividing it; he was just going to extinguish the last one, when Master Bo jumped on the table, regardless of all propriety, and cried out, "Oh, Papa, let me blow out the middle candle, that is a blessed one and I want to breathe the holy smoke."

There was a hearty laugh at this and Father Leonard enjoyed the joke more than any one. When he could manage to speak after the hilarity had subsided he asked: "Bo, why did you want to breathe the holy smoke?" "Because," answered the boy, "Hetty says the mischief spirit is in me, and I wanted to smoke it out." Again there was an outburst of laughter, although only the older folks understood the wit of Bo's remark.

After supper the children prepared for the entertainment. Those who were to speak or sing went with Aunty Lucy and Miss May to have some last finishing touches put to their toilet, and make sure they remembered their pieces.

The end of the piazza had been arranged as a stage. Three large Japanese screens formed a back ground and an arch of white climbing roses and honey suckles served instead of a drop curtain. Groups of electric lamps had been placed so as to have the light fall directly on the little actors. Chairs and benches for the audience were arranged on the lawn just opposite the arch. At half past eight o'clock, it was sufficiently dark to bring out the illumination on the piazza, so the show began.

The first scene represented Amy seated on a chair, which was draped with gilt paper, festooned with flowers and resembled a veritable golden throne. From behind the scene came seven children carrying flowers and singing:

Then one of the little girls placed a crown of Lilies of the Valley on the little queen's head, and the other children laid their flowers at her feet.

This was a total surprise to Amy, for the children had been told not to let her know they were learning the song; her sweet face was a study while she received the homage of her little friends, but she was equal to the occasion, and rising from her seat made a profound bow and said, "Thank you! Oh! I thank you so much." After this came a violin solo by Adolph Lane, which was extremely well rendered. Edith Scot and her brother danced the "Sailors' Hornpipe" dressed in fancy costume.

Bolax and his chum, Robbie Thornton, spoke Whitcomb Riley's "When the World Busts Through." Suggested by an earthquake.

The little fellows recited this with scared faces and such comical gravity as to keep every one laughing. Amy came next with "Songs of Seven," by Jean Ingelow.

This was beautifully rendered and such a very appropriate selection for a seventh birthday. The entertainment ended, every one prepared to go home, one and all expressing their delight and declaring it was the most enjoyable birthday party they had ever witnessed.