THE PARTY.
Great preparations were made for Amy's seventh birthday. Uncle Dick, who
was an electrician, sent a number of portable electric lamps to help in
the decorations.
Aunt Lucy proposed having tableaux and pieces for the evening
entertainment, as a welcome home to Papa Allen, who was expected soon to
return from his Western trip.
Amy wanted everything arranged in "sevens," as she expressed it. So she
invited seven girls and seven boys and seven grown up people. There were
to be seven kinds of candy and cakes, etc., and Mamma and Aunt Lucy
worked with all their hearts to make Amy's seventh birthday a
never-to-be-forgotten pleasure.
It was agreed that every eatable which was set on the table for the
children, should be made at home, so Miss Sweetwood, who was an expert
in candy making, came to spend a week, and devoted her time to the
manufacture of all manner of dainty bonbons.
Aunt Lucy and Hetty took charge of the cooking, and the birthday cake
came from their hands a most beautiful, as well as delicious,
confection. There were seven sugar ornaments made like sconces to hold
the candles, the one in the centre resembling a white lily, was for a
blessed candle; Mrs. Allen always managed to smuggle a pious thought
into every act connected with the children.
Two days before the party, Papa Allen arrived, bringing a present for
Amy, which was received with wildest shouts of delight from both
children, but was not so welcome to the grown-up members of the family,
viz.--A goat.
Hetty came to bid a "welcome home" with the rest of the family, but held
up her hands when she saw the new arrival and exclaimed. "Fo' de land's
sake! Massa Allen, you done brought a match for Bolax now, for sure."
Early on the morning of the twenty-first, before anyone else in the
house thought of stirring, Bo's eyes were wide open.
A robin perched on a bough of an apple tree just outside the window, was
singing his merriest, the sun was shining straight into the room and
upon Bo's crib. "Guess that sun woke me up," said he, watching with
delight the bright beams as they glanced and shimmered about the walls
and over the carpet. "When it gets to Mamma's bed it will wake her up
too." "Oh! I'm so tired waiting." Then jumping out of his crib, he ran
over to Amy's bed, and sang out. "One, two, three, four, five, six,
seven. Hurrah! for your birthday, sister." Amy rubbed her eyes, and
having made the sign of the cross, for she never forgot to give her
first thought to God, was ready to join Bolax in hurrahing for the
anticipated pleasures of the day.
First of all, the goat was remembered, and scarcely waiting to dress,
both children ran to play with the new pet.
For a short time Bo allowed Amy to enjoy her present, but soon he began
to tease, and would not let her lead the goat where she pleased.
"It's my own pet!" cried she, "Papa brought it to me." "Well," said Bo,
"you might let me have a lend of it." "Yes, but you take such a long
lend, and you are so cruel," and Amy tried to pull the goat away, but Bo
held on, screaming and getting into a temper.
Papa heard the noise and called out to know the cause of the
disturbance. "Papa," said the gentle little girl, "I am willing to let
Bo have Nanny for a long time, but he won't give me a chance to play
with her at all, and he's tormenting the poor thing, making Don bark at
her, just to see her try to butt."
Aunt Lucy ran out to settle the dispute. Just then the breakfast bell
rang and Nanny was left in peace. After breakfast Mamma recommended the
children not to tire themselves, as the party would begin at four
o'clock in the afternoon, and they must be ready to receive their little
friends and help to amuse them. But nothing would induce Bo to give up
playing with the goat, at dinner time he was still taking "one more lend
of her."
Gentle Amy, who generally gave up to her little brother, could not help
feeling sorry for the unfortunate animal, and begged to have it sent to
the stable.
"Bo, dear," said Aunt Lucy, "do let poor Nanny rest a while, you have
not given her time to eat today." "Why Auntie she's had lots to eat. I
gave her two of my handkerchiefs, and one of Amy's, and she ate them up,
but she seems not to like colored handkerchiefs, for I gave her one of
Hetty's, and she just took a bite, then spit it out."
Hetty happened to come to the pump just as Bo was showing the
handkerchief, and she fairly screamed when she saw it.
"For de land's sake! you Bolax. Look what you been a doin'. Here's my
best Bandanna half chewed up by dat goat." "Well, Hetty, you told me
goats like to eat clothes, and I thought your bandanna would taste good
to Nanny, because it is so pretty, but she didn't like it."
"Oh, you just shut up, you bad boy: you is made up of mischief; you'
bones is full of it. Clar to goodness, I never was so put upon, no time,
no whars."
Bo was very much surprised at Hetty's outburst of anger and looked quite
frightened, he offered to give her all the pennies in his bank to buy a
new bandanna, but she would not be pacified, and still continued to
scold.
"Hetty, dear," said the little culprit, "please don't speak so hard, it
hurts my heart." But angry Hetty continued with: "You certainly is one
of dem. Massa Bo, you'se done so much mischief dis here day, and it's
Miss Amy's birthday too; if I was you I'd go to de Oritey and pray de
good Lord to hold you in, if He kin, just for de rest of dis day. I'se
afraid you g'wine to spile all de fun dis arternoon by some of your fool
tricks."
Bo seeing Hetty was determined to remain angry, ran off to escape
further scolding. When he was gone Aunt Lucy told Hetty she must blame
herself for the loss of her handkerchief, as she had told the child
about the calves and goats feeding on such things. "You see, Hetty, as
yet Bo does not know what an untruth means, and cannot distinguish
between joke and earnest, he firmly believes all that grown up people
tell him, and I have no doubt, thought that he was giving a dainty
morsel to the goat, when he offered her your best bandanna."
"Oh you! Miss Lucy, you always takes up for dat boy."
"Yes, and there's some one else, 'takes up' for him, sometimes, and her
name is Hetty."
At three o'clock Mamma and Aunt Lucy dressed the children. Amy was as
usual in blue and white, for she had been consecrated to the Blessed
Virgin, from the time she was a baby. Her dress for the occasion was
very beautiful, trimmed with soft laces, a present from her Godmother,
and she looked like a little princess, with her long golden curls and
dark eyes.
Bo wore his black velvet kilt, with a large lace collar, and the sweet
little face, peeping out from beneath his crown of curls, might have
been taken for something angelic, if one did not get a glimpse of his
mischievous gray eye.
Promptly at four, the children trooped in; Amy did the honors in a most
charming manner, and Bo amused the boys by showing them his numerous
pets. Games of all kinds were played, and judging from the laughter and
noise, Amy's guests were having what is called "a good time."
Never was there a more glorious twenty-first of June; the sky was so
blue and bright, not the least bit of a cloud was to be seen, the air
was balmy and entirely free from dampness, so the table for the children
was set under the trees on the lawn. A snowy white cloth was spread and
places arranged for fourteen. Before each cover was a pretty box
containing candied fruit, to each box was attached a card with these
words in gilt letters: From Amy to her friends; this was to be carried
home as a souvenir. In the centre of the table the birthday cake stood
on a bank of red and white roses. These bouquets of flowers were placed
between pyramids of ice cream and mounds of toothsome dainties.
Delicious white and red and pink raspberries were served on plates
resembling green leaves.
As the clock struck six, the children were called to take their places
at the table, but just as they were seated, who should walk up the
garden path, but Father Leonard, the dearest friend of the family. Mr.
and Mrs. Allen hastened to greet him: "Well, well," said he, "what is
all this?" Amy ran to welcome her favorite and told him it was her
birthday party. "Now my little daughter," said the good father. "I feel
very much slighted at not receiving an invitation." "Oh!" replied the
little lady, "please do not be offended, but come sit at the head of the
table and ask blessing on my feast." This the good father did most
joyfully, and when the youngsters were seated, every one showed his
appreciation of the good things by the dispatch with which the platters
were cleared. Aunt Lucy's famous drop cakes disappeared in such numbers,
that some of the Mammas began to fear they would have to nurse cases of
indigestion.
At length the time came to cut the birthday cake. The seven candles upon
it had remained lighted during the repast and Mr. Allen put them out
before dividing it; he was just going to extinguish the last one, when
Master Bo jumped on the table, regardless of all propriety, and cried
out, "Oh, Papa, let me blow out the middle candle, that is a blessed one
and I want to breathe the holy smoke."
There was a hearty laugh at this and Father Leonard enjoyed the joke
more than any one. When he could manage to speak after the hilarity had
subsided he asked: "Bo, why did you want to breathe the holy smoke?"
"Because," answered the boy, "Hetty says the mischief spirit is in me,
and I wanted to smoke it out." Again there was an outburst of laughter,
although only the older folks understood the wit of Bo's remark.
After supper the children prepared for the entertainment. Those who were
to speak or sing went with Aunty Lucy and Miss May to have some last
finishing touches put to their toilet, and make sure they remembered
their pieces.
The end of the piazza had been arranged as a stage. Three large Japanese
screens formed a back ground and an arch of white climbing roses and
honey suckles served instead of a drop curtain. Groups of electric lamps
had been placed so as to have the light fall directly on the little
actors. Chairs and benches for the audience were arranged on the lawn
just opposite the arch. At half past eight o'clock, it was sufficiently
dark to bring out the illumination on the piazza, so the show began.
The first scene represented Amy seated on a chair, which was draped with
gilt paper, festooned with flowers and resembled a veritable golden
throne. From behind the scene came seven children carrying flowers and
singing:
We come, we come from hill and dell
To welcome her we love so well.
We come on wings of silver light,
For 'tis our Amy's festal night.
We bring her from our fairy bowers
Tiny buds and opening flowers,
In mystic language they all shall tell
We love our darling Amy well.
Then one of the little girls placed a crown of Lilies of the Valley on
the little queen's head, and the other children laid their flowers at
her feet.
This was a total surprise to Amy, for the children had been told not to
let her know they were learning the song; her sweet face was a study
while she received the homage of her little friends, but she was equal
to the occasion, and rising from her seat made a profound bow and said,
"Thank you! Oh! I thank you so much." After this came a violin solo by
Adolph Lane, which was extremely well rendered. Edith Scot and her
brother danced the "Sailors' Hornpipe" dressed in fancy costume.
Bolax and his chum, Robbie Thornton, spoke Whitcomb Riley's "When the
World Busts Through." Suggested by an earthquake.
Where's a boy a-goin';
An' what's he goin' to do,
And how's he goin' to do it
When the world busts through?
Ma says "she can't tell
What we're comin' to!"
An' Pop says, "He's jest skeered
Clean-plum through."
Second Boy.
Suppose we'd be a playin'
Out in the street,
An' the ground 'nd split up
'Bout forty feet!
Ma says, "She jest knows
We 'ud tumble in;"
An' Pop's says, "Bet you,
Den you wouldn't grin."
First Boy.
S'pose we'd jest be pretendin'
Like we had a show,
Down in the stable
Where we mustn't go--
Ma says, "the earthquake
Might make it fall;"
An' Pop says, "more'n like
Swaller barn an' all."
Landy! ef we wuz
Runin' away from school,
Down in the shady woods
Where it's all so cool!
Ma says "a big tree
Might squash our head;"
An' Pop says, "chop 'em out
Both killed-dead."
Both Boys.
But where is a boy a-goin',
An' what's he goin' to do,
An' how's he going' to do it,
Er the world bust through.
The little fellows recited this with scared faces and such comical
gravity as to keep every one laughing. Amy came next with "Songs of
Seven," by Jean Ingelow.
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There's no rain left in Heaven,
I've said my Seven times over and over,
Seven times one are seven.
I am old, so old, I can write a letter,
My birthday lessons are done;
The lambs play always, they know no better;
They are only one times one.
Oh, moon! in the night I've seen you sailing
And shining so round and low,
You were bright; ah, bright! but your light is
Failing, you are nothing now but a bow.
You moon, have you done something wrong in Heaven
That God has hidden your face?
I hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven,
And shine again in your place.
Oh, velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow;
You've powdered your wings with gold;
Oh, brave Marsh--marigold rich and yellow
Give me your money to hold.
And show me your nest with the young ones in it;
I will not steal them away!
I am old, you may trust me, Linnet, Linnet,
I am seven years old today.
This was beautifully rendered and such a very appropriate selection for
a seventh birthday. The entertainment ended, every one prepared to go
home, one and all expressing their delight and declaring it was the most
enjoyable birthday party they had ever witnessed.