"My gracious! what a noisy lot," exclaimed Grace, recognising her own small brother among them, and making mental note of a lecture she meant to give him after awhile.
"Oh, you ought to have seen how beautiful everything looked when they sat down," cried Mary, noticing Grace's critical glances, as she surveyed the wreck they had made of the table. "They've eaten up the lighthouse all but the lantern and the flag, and the watermelon ship was so pretty. Here's what the little boats looked like." She dashed into the pantry for her own gay little fleet of egg and orange and pickle boats with their many-coloured sails.
"How cunning!" said Grace, looking admiringly from the boats to the row of raisin-turtles. "But what a lot of time and trouble you all must have taken for those kids. Do you think boys appreciate it? I don't."
"My brothers do," said Joyce, stoutly. "We can't afford to have ices and fine things from the confectioner's, so we have to think up all sorts of odd surprises to take their place. Mother began it long ago when Jack and I were little, and she gave us our first Valentine tea. She said it was no more trouble to cut the cookies and sandwiches heart-shaped than to make them round, and it took very little time to decorate the table to look like a lace-paper valentine, but it made a world of difference in our enjoyment. Jack and I have dozens of bright spots to remember because she made gala days of all our birthdays and holidays, and it's no more than right that we should do it for Mary and Holland and the baby, now that she is so busy."
"We have something for every month in the year," chimed in Mary, "counting our five birthdays and Washington's, and New Year and Decoration Day and Christmas and Hallowe'en and Valentine and Thanksgiving."
"There are more than that," added Joyce, "for there's always the Fourth of July picnic, you know, and the eggs and rabbits and flowers at Easter."
"Yes, and April fool's day," Mary called out triumphantly after them, as the two girls walked slowly toward the house. "That makes fifteen."
"Can't you go over to Elsie Somers's with me, Joyce?" asked Grace. "That's what I stopped by for. It is only half-past five. I want to look at the centrepiece she is embroidering before I begin mine, and ask her about the stitch. Then I can begin it this evening after supper."
"Oh, I don't believe I can," answered Joyce, sitting wearily down on the doorstep, and making room for Grace beside her. "There's all that mess to clean up, and the boys will be coming in soon when it begins to get dark, for their bonfire stories. Do you see that enormous pile of leaves over there? We're going to have a jolly big bonfire after awhile, and sit around it telling stories. That is Holland's idea, and part of our way of keeping birthdays is to let the one who celebrates choose what he would like to do."
"Hum, bum! Here I come!" shouted several voices from the stable roof and alley fence, and Jack repeated it at the top of his voice, as he dashed around the corner of the house.