Happy birthday to you!”
“Dorothy rah! Dorothy rah! Rah-rah, Dorothy!”
“Did you notice her name on the frosting?—Dorothy, in cinnamon drops.”
“Yes, Isabel, I certainly did,” said Virgie. “I never had a birthday celebration in my life. I wish my birthday came in camp time.”
“When does it come?”
“September first! Not even in school time!”
“My, what a pity. You could almost have one.”
“I’ve half a mind to change it, put it in August some time. Why not?” asked Virgie, laughing.
“There was a girl that did that once,” said Frances. “She went clear through with it, then somebody told.”
“What did they do to her?”