"It comes only onst a year," she said, "an' she's the only child I've got. I'll buy 'em some cookies an' gingerbread, an' a half-dozen limons to make some limonade wid; an' I hope they'll be satisfied, for I can't do no more."
So Biddy, to her great joy, was allowed to invite half a dozen little girls, her most "intimate" friends, to her "party," which would take place Thursday afternoon of the following week.
When Mrs. Keaney took Mrs. Ray's clothes home Thursday afternoon, she told Eliza, the chamber-maid, as a good joke, about her little girl's "party" and the expected guests.
Thursday afternoon came, and about four o'clock "Lame Jim" and his sister arrived, and were received by Biddy, fresh and sweet as a pink in her clean cambric frock, with a rose-colored ribbon tied above her shining hair. Mrs. Keaney had but two little rooms in the third story of a tenement-house, but though poor and scantily furnished, they were kept as clean and sweet as broom and scrubbing-brush could make them.
How happy little Jim was! How his sweet wan face brightened like a pale flower brought into the sunshine! Mrs. Keaney placed him in her one rocking-chair, and gave him and little Annie a drink of milk and a goodly slice of bread and butter straightway, for she knew how little they had to eat at home.
And soon arrived the six girls all together; and what a merry clatter of tongues there was in that little kitchen! They were just as happy as if they had worn silk dresses and kid slippers—happier, perhaps. Soon all were engaged in a merry game of "hide the thimble," Jim as active as any one, hopping nimbly about on his crutches. At last they found the thimble snugly hid in his pocket, where Kitty Fay had cunningly slipped it, unknown even to the boy himself.
Game followed game in quick succession, until Mrs. Keaney, who had been looking on smiling, ordered them into the bedroom.
"Guess she's settin' the table," said Mary Connor: "I hear the dishes rattlin';" and hereupon they all fell a-chuckling. A few moments after, they were called into the next room.
"Ain't it jist illegant?" whispered Ann Gormly to Sally Flynn. "Look at the sugar-cookies! and, oh my! there's limonade. I smell it."
"Can't you behave?" said Sally, reprovingly. "One 'ud think you'd niver been to a party before."