"To-morrow is the shortest day in the year," Ivra told Eric one night after they were in bed. He did not answer, for he was very sleepy. But after a minute she spoke again. "It's my birthday too!"

Then he opened his eyes and sat up, for her voice sounded very queer and far away. He saw that she too was sitting up, her hands folded under her chin. "Mother always had a party for me," she said. "Such fun!"

"Perhaps one will happen to-morrow even with her away," Eric comforted. "Oh, goody! I do hope so!"

"Perhaps. Anyway I'm going to pretend there's a party waiting for me to-morrow. You pretend too, Eric, and then even if it doesn't come true we will have had the pretending at least."

Eric agreed to pretend. It was one of his favorite games. And very soon the two children nestled down under their covers and drifted into sleep and dreams of a party.

They were roused early in the morning by something tapping lightly on the doors and windows. Eric was out of bed first, and saw the Wind Creatures, half a dozen or more of them, looking in and beckoning. Their purple wings gleamed gold in the early morning sun. Wild Star was standing in the open door.

"Happy birthday!" he cried and tossed a snow ball into Ivra's bed. She popped to her knees, laughing and rosy with sleep. But then she was grave in a minute. "There's to be no party, Wild Star," she said. "Mother's not back yet. Are you all here for that?"

"Yes, we're here for that, and there is to be a party, an all day one too. Your Forest Friends have seen to that."

The children were radiant with joy. And Ivra whispered to Eric, "We had our pretending, too!"

The Wind Creatures would not come in to breakfast, for of course they do not like in-doors at all, and besides, they need very little food. So they played in the garden while the children dressed and ate. Very soon the children were done, though, and came leaping out ready for a day's joy.

The Wind Creatures led them then out through the forest. The Tree Girl was watching for them at her door. It was plain to be seen, when she joined them, that she carried something in her arms very secretly under her white cloak. But no one mentioned it. Ivra knew it must be a surprise for her birthday. Where the party was to be no one told her, and she did not ask. She liked surprises.

They came to the Forest Children's little moss village. The youngest Forest Child of all was the only one up so early. He was busily breaking dead twigs from bushes to build his morning fire and making up a little rhymeless song about Ivra's birthday as he worked.

This is her birthday,
Spring's little daughter—
Spring's little daughter—
This is her birthday.
Wake now, wake now,
All you Forest Children,
Wake for her birthday
And tie your sandals on.

When he saw them he cried, "Hurrah! Happy birthday, Ivra!"

At his cry all the little windows in the little moss houses opened and there were the tousled heads of the Forest Children, their eyes blinking sleepily against the gilded morning light.

"Thank you, thank you," Ivra cried back to the youngest Forest Child. "Hurry and follow."

Before they had gone on their way five minutes more the Forest Children were up with them, tugging at buckles and sandal strings as they ran, begging not to be left behind. Soon they came to Big Pine Hill, a hill deep in the forest with no trees but a giant pine at the top. The Wind Creatures had built a slide there by brushing away the snow and leaving a broad track of shining blue ice. Up under the pine were sleds enough for every one, made all of woven hemlock branches. They needed no runners for the ice was so slippery and the hill so steep anything would go down it fast enough. Ivra's Forest Friends must have worked all the day before to make those sleds—and now her shining face and clasped hands were reward enough.

She was the first to try the hill. She threw herself on her sled and down she flashed. At the bottom she tumbled off, and still on her knees shouted up to Eric and the others at the top, "Oh, it's splendid! Come on!"

Then the hill was covered with speeding sleds. The Bird Fairies had none of their own, for they were so little they might have come to harm on that hill. But they had just as good a time for all of that, catching rides with the others, clinging to shoulders or heads or feet as it happened.

Every one was there, even the Snow Witches who had not been invited. They came whirling and dancing through the forest almost as soon as the sliding had begun. Ivra gave them glad welcome in spite of their rough ways and stinging hair. For she, the only one of all who were there, liked them very well and had made them her comrades often and often on windy winter days. And they, who cared for nobody, cared for her. "She is not like anybody," they explained it to each other. "She is a great little girl."

But they would not take Ivra's sled as she wanted them to. They had not come to spoil her fun. Instead they raced down the hill behind her or before her, pushing and pulling, their stinging hair in her face. But that only made her cheeks very red, and she did not mind them at all. Then she tried sliding down on her feet, with the long line of witches pushing from behind, their hands on each other's shoulders. That was the best fun of all, and almost always ended in a tumble before the bottom was reached. Though the others avoided the witches as much as they could they admired Ivra for such hardy comrading.

Before noon every one was very hungry. Then the littlest Forest Child said, "Follow me. The Tree Girl has gone ahead."

It was true, she had slipped away when no one noticed.

The littlest Forest Child led them away to a little valley-place where hemlock boughs had been spread to make a floor and raised on three sides to make a shelter. When they had come close enough for Ivra to see what it was perched so big and white in the middle of the hemlock floor she stopped and sighed with joy while she clasped her hands.

It was a beautiful frosted birthday cake with nine brave candles of all colors and burning steadily, just the kind of cake her mother had always baked for her birthdays.—Only last year there had been eight candles. She had not hoped for this final delight. She ran quickly forward and was the first to kneel down by it. The Tree Girl was there waiting, and now Ivra knew it was the cake that she had been carrying so secretly under her cloak.

The Snow Witches did not follow into that shelter. They have a great fear of shelters, you must know, for when forced into them they quickly lose their fierceness, and their fierceness is their greatest pride. But before they left the party one of them came close to Eric, so close that tears were whipped into his eyes and quickly froze on his lashes. "Take this to your little comrade," shes said, thrusting a box made of pine cones into his hands. "It's for her to keep her paper dolls in. We witches made it."

Then all the witches went screeching and swirling away through the forest, and Ivra, Eric and the others settled down to the business of eating the birthday cake.

But first the Tree Girl, who is very sensible, insisted that they eat some nuts and apples. Indeed, she would allow no one a bite of the wonderful cake until he had eaten at least one apple and twenty nuts.

Before Ivra cut the cake the others blew out the candles, one after another, and made her a wish in turn for every candle. The Tree Girl wished her a bright new year, the Bird Fairies that her mother would soon return, the Wind Creatures that she would keep her gay heart forever, the Forest Children that she would become the most famous story teller in the Forest World.

And then it was Eric's turn. He had never been to a birthday party before, and never had he made a wish for some one else. So he was a little puzzled. But at last he had an idea and cried, "I wish that your hair will grow golden and curly before to-morrow morning." All princesses Ivra had ever told him about had curly golden hair, and though she had never said it, Eric had suspected for some time that Ivra would like that kind of hair herself. Then he puffed his cheeks and blew out his candle, a fat green one. Ivra laughed.

"The Snow Witches would never let me keep curly hair," she said. "They'd whip it straight in an hour."

That reminded Eric of the pine cone box and he gave it to her and told her about it. She was almost as delighted with that as with the cake.

What a wonderful cake it was! Such food Eric had never dreamed of, and he was a great dreamer! The frosting was over an inch thick.

Then, of course, Ivra must tell them stories. All the Forest People loved her stories. They built a fire to keep from freezing. The Wind Creatures sat a little way off where it was cool enough for their comfort, but not too far to hear Ivra's clear voice. This time she told all she knew about the birthday of this Earth, one of the most magical and splendid and strange of her stories.

But it was the shortest day in the year, Ivra's birthday, and night fell all too soon. Then the Tree Girl, who seldom forgot to be sensible, said they had better go home. The littlest Forest Child was already asleep, curled close by the fire. They roused him gently. Good-nights were called and a few minutes after, the shelter was deserted, and the fire out. And by starlight could be seen many footprints leading away in the white snow out into all parts of the Forest.

Eric and Ivra walked toward home hand in hand. They had to pass the morning's slide on the way. When they came in sight of it they began to walk more quickly and quietly and to look intently. The blue ice shone bluer than ever in starlight, but more than the ice shone. Shining people were using the sleds and the hill was covered with them.

"Why, they must be Star People," Ivra cried excitedly.

When they were quite near they stood to watch.

The strange Star folk were very silent, never calling and laughing as those who had slid there in the morning had done. Two, a little boy and a young girl, came spinning down on the same sled and stopped so near that Ivra and Eric might have touched them by leaning forward. But the Star-two must have thought the Forest-two shadows, for they paid no attention to them at all.

Now that they were so near Eric could see that their hair was blue, like the shadows on snow, and their faces a beautiful shining white. Their straight short garments were blue like shadows, too, and their arms, legs and feet were bare. But they did not seem conscious of the cold. Eric did not hear them speak, but they looked at each other as though they were speaking, and then suddenly the little boy laughed merrily, as though the young girl had just told him something very amusing.

Soon the girl turned and ran away up the hill. But the little boy was as quick as she and threw himself on the sled while she never slackened her pace, but drew him straight and fast up the steep slope.

"I have never seen them before," Ivra whispered to Eric. "But mother has told me of them. They don't talk as we do you see. They don't have to. They know each other's thoughts. They almost never leave their Stars. Do you think—perhaps, to-night they saw our slide shining, and wondered so much about it they had to come down? Even mother has never seen them. It was Tree Mother told her."

Eric was very silent, for he had never seen such beautiful people. The little boy had had a face like a star, and great shining eyes. The young girl had been clear like the day, and without smiling her face had been brimmed with happiness.

But now he felt Ivra trembling. She whispered again, "You know, Eric, it is wonderful for us to see them like this. Some day, mother says, we may get to be like them!"

"And speak without words?" Eric asked wondering.

"Yes, and more than that. We may be as alive as they. Now we're only Forest people, and not all that even—almost dreams. They are real!"

Then she took his hand and drew him away. "I cannot look any more," she said; "can you? They are too beautiful!"

Eric put his fingers to his eyes as he walked. "Yes, it's hard to see the ground now. My eyes ache a little."

But how the children wished their mother were waiting for them in the little house to hear the tale!