_ CHAPTER XIII. A BIRTHDAY
"Mopsy," said Uncle Steve one morning, "I understand that next week Thursday has the honor of being your birthday."
"Yes, Uncle Steve, and I'll be twelve years old."
"My gracious goodness! What an old lady you are getting to be! Well, now for such an occasion as that we must celebrate in some way. So I'm going to give you a choice of pleasures. Would you rather have a party, a picnic, or a present?"
Marjorie considered. She well knew that a present which would balance against a party or a picnic would be a fine present, indeed. And so, after a moment's thought, she replied:
"I'll take the present, thank you, Uncle Steve; for somehow I feel sure we'll have picnics this summer, as we always do; and I don't care much about a party, because I know so few children around here."
"All right, then, Midget; a present it shall be, but with this stipulation: you must promise not to go down into the south orchard from now until next Thursday."
"Why not?" asked Mopsy, her eyes wide open with astonishment.
"Principally, because I tell you not to, and I want you to obey me; but I don't mind explaining that it is because I shall be there, at least part of the time, making your present; and as I want it to be a surprise, you mustn't come peeping around."
"All right, Uncle Steve, I won't; but why do you make it down there? Why not make it up here at the house?"
"Midget, your curiosity will some day get you into trouble. I prefer to do the work in the meadow. Perhaps it is sewing, and I shall take my work-basket and sit under the big maple-trees to sew."
Marjorie laughed to think of Uncle Steve sewing, but was really burning with curiosity to know what he was going to do.
However, she had given her word, and she conscientiously kept it. Not once during those intervening days did she so much as look toward the south meadow, though if she had done so she would not have been able to discover what her birthday surprise was to be.
Every day she discussed the subject with Molly and Stella, and each formed an opinion. Stella thought it was a new flower garden that Uncle Steve was making for Midge; Molly thought he was having a swing put up, because she had seen Carter carrying some long timbers over that way. But the girls considered themselves bound by Mopsy's promise to her uncle, and conscientiously refrained from going down to the meadow to investigate.
Grandma, of course, was in the secret, and as a result she often shut herself into her own room, telling Marjorie she must not come in. She would stay there for hours at a time, and Mopsy felt sure she was sewing on something connected with the birthday surprise, as indeed she was.
As the day came nearer, all the members of the household seemed to be in a state of great excitement. Carter was running about, bringing mysterious-looking parcels from the express office, and taking them to the barn to unpack them.
Eliza was concocting delicious-looking creams and jellies, but they, Marjorie knew, were for the birthday feast, which would, of course, be a hilarious festival, although not a party.
At last Thursday morning came, and Marjorie awoke bright and early; and very soon, arrayed in a fresh, pink gingham frock, went dancing downstairs.
So early was she that the others had not yet come down, and she went out into the kitchen to talk to Eliza.
"Oh, me!" she sighed. "I wish Uncle Steve would hurry. It just seems as if I couldn't wait any longer to know what my birthday surprise is going to be. Do you know, Eliza?"
"Faix, an' I do, Miss Midge, an' it's a foine gift yer uncle has for ye!"
"Don't tell me, Eliza, because Uncle Steve said I mustn't ask questions about it; but do you think I'll like it?"
"'Like it,' is it? 'Deed an' you will thin! Ye'll go crazy as a loonytic wid joy and delight! An' I'm thinkin' you and Miss Molly will be after breaking your necks in it, but the little lady Stella,--I'm feared she won't get in it at all, at all; she'll be too sheared."
"Then it IS a swing," exclaimed Midget, and she felt a little disappointment, for though a swing was lovely to have, yet she had one at home, so it was no especial novelty; and, too, she hadn't thought Uncle Steve would make such a fuss about having a swing built.
"I'm not sayin' it isn't a swing," said Eliza, "and I'm not sayin' it is. And I'm not sayin' it isn't a merry-go-around-about, or whativer ye call thim noisy things that they do be havin' down by the circus tent, and I'm not sayin' it is."
"Don't say any more about what it is or isn't, or I'll guess."
"Indeed you wouldn't, Miss Mopsy, if ye guessed from now until ye're gray-headed."
This made Midget think that the gift was not a swing, as she had already guessed that,--and then she heard Uncle Steve's voice calling her, and she ran gayly back to the dining-room.
The birthday breakfast was a festival indeed. Marjorie's place was decorated with flowers, and even the back of her chair was garlanded with wreaths.
At her plate lay such a huge pile of parcels, tied up in bewitching white papers and gay ribbons, that it seemed as if it would take all day to examine them.
"Goodness me!" exclaimed Midget. "Did anybody ever have so many birthday gifts? Are they all for me?"
"Any that you don't want," said Uncle Steve, "you may hand over to me. I haven't had a birthday for several years now, and I'd be thankful for one small gift."
"You shall have the nicest one here," declared Marjorie, "and I don't care what it is, or who sent it."
"The nicest one isn't here," observed Grandma, with a merry twinkle in her eye, and Marjorie knew that she was thinking of the surprise in the orchard.
"Of course, I mean except the swing," said Marjorie, looking roguishly at Uncle Steve to see if she had guessed right.
"You've been peeping!" he exclaimed, in mock reproach, and then Marjorie knew that whatever it was, it wasn't a swing.
"You know I haven't--you know I wouldn't," she declared, and then she began to open the lovely-looking bundles.
It did seem as if everybody that Marjorie knew had remembered her birthday. There were gifts from everybody at home, to begin with. Mrs. Maynard had sent the sweetest blue-silk sash, and Mr. Maynard a beautiful book. The children all sent toys or games or trinkets, and every one seemed to Marjorie to be just what she had wanted.
There was a cup and saucer from Eliza, and small tokens from Carter and Jane. For Marjorie was a great pet with the servants, and they all adored her.
But among all the bundles there was no gift from Grandma or Uncle Steve, and Marjorie wondered what had become of the mysterious work which Grandma had been doing all shut up in her own room.
But even as she was thinking about it, Grandma explained:
"Our gifts will come later," she said. "When Uncle Steve gives you his birthday surprise, I will add my contribution."
Just after the last parcel had been untied, Molly and Stella came flying in. That is, Molly came flying, while serious little Stella walked at her usual sedate pace.
"Many happy returns of the day!" cried Molly, "and here's my gift." She had in her arms a large and rather ungainly bundle, loosely wrapped in white tissue paper.
Together she and Marjorie hastily pulled off the papers, and there was a beautiful cat-basket trimmed with blue ribbons and lined with soft cushions for Puff to sleep in.
"Oh!" cried Marjorie, flinging her arms around Molly's neck, "that's just what I've been wanting ever since I've had that kitten." And grabbing up Puff, who was never very far away, she laid her in the basket.
Puff seemed delighted with her new bed, and, after curiously sniffing and poking into all the nooks and corners of it, she curled up and began to purr herself to sleep.
Stella's gift was a dainty, little white-silk parasol, with a frill around it, which seemed to Marjorie the loveliest thing she had ever seen.
"It's beautiful, Stella!" she exclaimed. "And I shall always carry it whenever I'm dressed up enough. I hope you girls will have your birthdays soon, so I can give you some lovely things, too."
"Have you had your surprise yet?" asked impatient Molly, who, according to her usual fashion, was prancing about the room on one foot; while Stella sat demurely in a chair, her hands quietly folded in her lap, though her eyes seemed to make the same inquiry.
"No, not yet," answered Uncle Steve for his niece, "but I think it's about time for us to see if we can find it."
"All right," cried Marjorie, "let's all go to the orchard!"
"I don't see, Midget," said her uncle, "why you think the surprise is down at the orchard, just because I told you I was making it down there. In fact I have my birthday gift for you right here in my pocket."
Marjorie looked rather blank. She knew Uncle Steve loved to tease her, but she had certainly expected some out-of-door gift, and to receive a little trinket that could be carried in a pocket was a surprise indeed.
In proof of his words Uncle Steve drew a neatly-tied parcel from a pocket of his morning coat and handed it to Marjorie. It was about the size of a one-pound box of candy, and sure enough, when Marjorie eagerly pulled off the paper, the gilt letters on the cover proclaimed it a candy-box. Marjorie felt positive that her uncle would not offer her candy as a birthday gift, for he often brought her that on any ordinary day of the year. But she was mystified, and she took off the cover, not knowing herself what she expected to see. To her surprise, inside the box was another parcel, a trifle smaller, and on the paper which wrapped it was written:
"I am not candy as you thought, I bring you joys that can't be bought."
Marjorie began to understand that it was one of Uncle Steve's elaborate jokes, and she didn't know whether further search would reveal a valuable, though tiny gift, or some absurd hoax.
She took out the second box and tore off the wrappings. Molly eagerly helped her pull off the ribbon and paper, and though Stella sat quietly by, she, too, almost held her breath to see what would happen next.
Marjorie opened the second box, and this time was not so much surprised to see that it contained another wrapped and tied box. On this one was written:
"Oho, Miss Mopsy, fooled again! Suppose you keep on trying, then."
"Indeed, I will," cried Mopsy; "I expect there are a thousand boxes, each smaller than the other, and when I get to the end I'll find a bright penny, or something like that!"
"If you think that," said Uncle Steve, "I'll offer you two cents for the bundle as it is now; and then, you see, you'll double your money!"
"No siree!" cried Marjorie, "for, you see, I don't know. It MAY be a diamond ring, but that wouldn't do me much good, as I couldn't wear it until I'm grown up."
"Hurry up," cried Molly, who was dancing about, both helping and hindering Marjorie, "let's see what the next box says."
On the next box was written:
"Just a hint I'll give to you; I'm of metal, tied with blue."
"Metal, tied with blue!" screamed Molly, "What can that be? A hoe, perhaps, tied up with a blue ribbon."
"What kind of a hoe could you get in such a little box?" said Stella.
"_I_ think it's a locket," said Marjorie, "on a blue ribbon to hang round your neck."
The next box said:
"Very seldom you will use me, But you'd cry if you should lose me."
"Ho!" said Marjorie, "if I'm going to use this thing so seldom I don't think I'd cry if I should lose it."
"Perhaps it's a something for Sunday," suggested Molly, "then you'd use it only once a week, you know."
"Oh, what a funny verse this is," said Marjorie, as she read:
"I'm nothing to eat, I'm nothing to wear; You can only use me high up in the air."
"I know what it is," said Stella, with her funny little air of decision; "it's a kite! You could only use that high in the air, you know; and it's that Japanese sort that squeezes all up to nothing and then spreads out when you open it."
"I believe it is," said Midge, "only you know it said it was made of metal. But just listen to this next verse!
"I am not pretty, I am not gay, But you'll enjoy me every day."
The boxes were getting very small now, and Marjorie felt sure that the one she held in her hand must be the last one, unless, indeed, the gift was a cherry stone. The verse read:
"At last, Dear Mopsy, you've come to me! Behold your birthday gift! only a--"
As Marjorie read the last words she opened the box, and when she saw the contents she finished the rhyme herself by exclaiming, "key!" _