But the ladies mourned so for the blond little Pockeyhockeyclutteryar that he had to come alive and join in a hunting expedition, during which they shot all the chairs for buffaloes and deer, and came home to roast a sofa pillow over their fire, and feast thereupon with the relish of hungry hunters.
These exploits were brought to an end by the arrival of more friends, with more gifts, and the introduction of the birthday cake. This was cut by the queen of the fête, and the panting chiefs handed it round with much scuffling of big moccasins and tripping over disarranged blankets.
Then all filled their glasses with water, and drank the toast, "Grandma, God bless her!" After which the entire company took hands and danced about the big chair, singing in chorus:—
"Long may she wave, and may we all
Her dear face live to see,
As bright and well at seventy-four
As now at seventy-three."
The clock struck ten, and every one went home, leaving the family to end the day as they began it, round grandma's bed, with good-night kisses and the sound of her last words in their ears:—
"It has been a beautiful and happy day, my dears, and if I never see another you may always remember that I thought this one my best and brightest birthday."
Cambridge: Press of John Wilson & Son.