"Your little boy won't be mad at you?"
"No, Bobby. He was always generous—just like his father." Then she said something that Bobby decided was addressed to herself and not to him. "I can't be less generous."
Bobby squeezed her neck until his arms ached. Then he remembered something she had just said.
"Did your little boy have fathers, too?"
"Yes. He's waiting in the car. Let's go to him, will you? Mrs. Eller is going to let you spend the night with us."
Holding hands, they went out through the yard, while the deserted puppy sat on his haunches and stared forlornly after his little playmate who did not even look back.
When they got to the car, there sat the Man With the Pocketful of Quarters! So that was the fathers of the little boy who was going to lend him a birthdays!
"Well, son," said the man as they solemnly shook hands, "we're going to show you what a real birthdays is."
"Yes'm?" queried Bobby as he was lifted into the 'mobile.
"Sure thing. It will be birthday all day long, from the moment you open your eyes until the Sandman comes."