The solution finally came via the unwitting agency of the Duchess. She called on Mrs. Forge to purchase some geranium slips and remained to discuss the precocity of Bernice-Theresa.
“I am convinced she will be literary,” the Duchess declared. “She has already finished the Bible, ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ and ‘Rollo’s Travels in Switzerland.’ I think I shall start her next on the poets.”
Nathan’s mother asked which poets. And the Duchess answered: “I understand ‘Dauntless Inferno’ by John Milton is being read these days by all the best people. After that I shall try Shakespeare. He’s so romantic!”
Nathan lay in bed that night, turning this sudden literary proclivity of the Gridley girl over in his mind. Then, by the strange and wonderful convolutions of a boy’s brain, he had it! He could scarcely wait until morning to get to Weathersbee & Hawkins’ Second-hand Furniture Store. There, after much mysterious maneuvering, he contracted for the article he sought, agreeing to saw wood for Mr. Hawkins Saturdays to pay for it. He carried it home the night before the memorable birthday party and hid it in the loft of the Forge woodshed.
The affair began at two-thirty the next day. Twenty-seven boys and girls, painfully starched and ironed, gathered awkwardly upon the Gridley lawn. A table had been placed beside the veranda steps and upon it the birthday gifts were deposited. Article by article the pile grew, some of them pathetically inexpensive, a few indicating want of taste far more than worldly goods.
When the Forge boy looked upon the daintiness and delicacy of most of the gifts, an awful qualm smote him. He wondered if he might not have overdone the present business in his anxiety to make an impression? But Bernice was demanding impatiently to know how he had fulfilled his promise. There was no time to reconsider now—certainly not to go back and buy another present. He went to a secret place in the hedge and brought his gift from its hiding.
Across the lawn he carried it with difficulty, for it was nearly as large as himself. To the gift-altar he brought it, small heart palpitating painfully.
“My goodness!” exclaimed the little patrician. “Whatever can it be?”
The children, patronized by a few mothers, gathered around to learn what the Forge boy had brought his dainty little hostess which should leave all present speechless by its cleverness and elegance. Nathan, badly scared, unwound copious quantities of newspaper and cast them aside. Then, using all his thirteen-year strength, up onto the table amid the lesser gifts, its weight causing that table to rock rather groggily for a moment, Nathan added—a life-sized bust of Julius Cæsar. Cæsar. In chalk!
The Duchess raised her lorgnette. She and Cæsar exchanged mutual glances of stupefaction for an instant.