Mary Jane: Her Book

by Clara Ingram Judson

Such fun as they did have down town! They bought pretty little invitations with a picture of a little girl with a pink parasol in one corner; they bought cracker bonbons with pink frills outside and folded up paper baskets inside and they bought gorgeous big paper hats in all the gay colors.

And then, when they got home, they wrote invitations to five little boys and to four little girls, Mary Jane was the fifth little girl, you see. And then they began making things for the party. Alice made a game to be played with paper balls; father drew a big teddy bear on a sheet and mother made a big black nose for him, a nose that little folks, with their eyes blindfolded, were to try to pin on in the right place. And Amanda planned cookies and cake and candy. Never was there such a party for it was Mary Jane's first, you see.

At last the birthday came (Mary Jane had begun to fear it never would for the days seemed three weeks long, every one) and the house was set in order and the time came to dress. Mary Jane was to wear her brand new dress with the pink sash, a new one that her grandmother had sent on purpose for the party; and her new white shoes that father had given her and her new silk stockings that her great-grandmother had sent. She felt very old, and grand, and grown-up when she walked dignifiedly down the stairs and into the living room. She had looked in the glass most carefully and the glass had told her that she looked just as nice as any little girl could and quite grown-up too.

She stood just inside the living room door and her heart beat quickly when Amanda went to answer the first ring at the front door—just think the wonderful party was beginning!

Junior came first, naturally, because he lived nearest and Mary Jane noticed that his pocket bulged in a most curious fashion.

"Of course you didn't have to bring me a present," she said calmly, "but if you did, why don't you give it to me right away now, so it don't muss up your pocket?"

Junior, who had been puzzling all the way across the street about how he was to give Mary Jane that present, was greatly relieved to have the matter so easily settled. He pulled out the be-ribboned package and eyed it carefully while Mary Jane undid it and exclaimed over the beautiful new party coat for Marie Georgiannamore. Mary Jane scampered back upstairs to get the forgotten doll and the two children, and the others who began dropping in were so busy dressing the dolls that they quite forgot "company" manners and had a good time from the start.

[Illustration: There's no need to tell of all the good times at that party.]

There's no need to tell of all the good times at that party; of all the games and the fun; the scramble into the ten chairs at the candle lighted table in the dining room; of the sandwiches which disappeared so quickly; the ice cream in the shape of circus men; the big white cake with its five pink candles and one white one in the middle to grow on—you know all about that yourself because you've been to parties and know what fun they are.

When all the goodies were eaten up; when not a child could have eaten another bite had the table been full again, Mrs. Merrill passed around the paper bag favors and each guest put the candy he couldn't eat and the nuts and the paper caps and the flower favors and a piece of the birthday cake into his or her bag and then each bag was laid carefully by each little guest's hat and coat ready to take home. And then the five little girls and the five little boys slipped down from their chairs and ran out of doors for a final romp.