So, you see, though they were twins, Taro and Take didn't have the same birthday at all.
Take's birthday came first. She knew days beforehand that it was
coming, for every once in a while she would say to her Mother,
"How many days is it now?" and her Mother always knew she meant,
"How many days is it to my birthday?"
One morning when she woke up, Take said, "Only six days more."
The next morning she said, "Only five days more." One morning she
jumped out of bed very early and said, "Oh, it's to-day! To-day!
It begins this very minute."
Taro didn't get up early that day. When he heard Take singing, "It's to-day," he just buried his nose under the bedclothes and pretended to be asleep!
He remembered Take's last birthday, and he remembered that boys seemed to be in the way that day. They weren't asked to play with the girls, and they wouldn't have done it anyway, because the girls spent the whole day playing with dolls! Taro didn't think much of dolls.
Before breakfast, her Father took Take out to the Kura. He reached up to the high shelf and brought down the big red box that held the dolls. It was as big as a trunk. Then he reached down another box and carried them both into the house.
Although it was so early in the morning, the Mother had already put fresh flowers in the vase, in honor of Take's birthday.
The bedding had been put away, and on one side of the room there were five shelves, like steps against the wall. Take knew what they were for.
"Oh," said Take, "everything is all ready to begin! May I open the boxes right now?"
Her Mother said, "Yes." She even got down on her knees beside the boxes and helped Take open them. They opened the red box first. It was full of dolls! A whole trunkful of dolls. Thirty-five of them!