CHAPTER VIII

THE BIRTHDAY QUEEN

IT was like a musical alarum, when Carolus, a bright golden canary,

began to trill one morning early to Mistress Clarice. His companion,

Chérie, who shared with him the pretty blue and white cage, thought

the song was meant for her, and began to stretch her wings and plume

herself as she listened. Blackbirds and thrushes called and chirruped

from the garden below; but the canaries could not see them, as the

nursery blind was not yet drawn up. Those merry singers on swinging

boughs outside in the clear morning sunshine made Carolus very

restless. He hopped from perch to perch, pecking up seeds faster and

faster, and peering through the slender wires with his bead-like eyes,

as if longing that the sleeper in the small white bed near the window

would awake and talk to him.

But Clarice was still in dreamland, and so was Milly in the opposite

cot; for it was only six o'clock, and even nurse, who was an early

riser, had not yet begun to stir.

Poor Carolus grew desperate, for the sunlight came slanting in between

the bars of the venetian blind in the most provokingly tempting manner.

At last, he piped his loudest, shrillest notes, and actually succeeded

in making Clarice open her eyes.

"Thank you, Carolus," she whispered, springing up lightly; "you are

the first to wish me many happy returns of my birthday. Oh, it is a

fine day! I so am glad. Is Milly awake, I wonder? Yes, the clothes are

moving."

In another moment two little feet were standing on the cane chair by

the window, and Carolus came to the bars of his cage to take some hemp

seed from a pair of red lips. One peep through the blind, out into the

garden lying in sunlight and cool shadow, a happy look towards the

rosy-tipped clouds in the blue sky, and Clarice skipped across the

floor to the other cot.

"Hush! Don't wake nurse and baby," said the elder child gravely, with

upraised finger. "Come into my bed. I want to talk to you about so many

things."

Milly rubbed her eyes as if she could not quite tell what was

happening, then her arms were round her sister's neck in a loving

clasp. "Do you know what I am going to give you for a birthday

present?" was Milly's first question.

"No. Shall I guess?"

"Yes, you may guess it; but I cannot tell you if you are right, because

it is a great secret."

"One of your white rabbits?"

"No."

"A gardening-basket?"

"No."

"A story-book?"

"No."

"Something to use?" suggested Clarice.

"Oh, please don't guess any more! I am so afraid you will find it out;

and you must not ask me about any of the parcels I saw in mamma's room

last night. One was such a funny shape, I wanted to open it, and peep."

"Who is awake so early, I wonder?" laughed nurse, for it was in vain to

try any longer to close her ears to the whispering buzz. "Many happy

returns of the day, my dear Miss Clarice."

"Oh, nurse!" pleaded Milly. "Please dress me very early to-day, because

I want to go to my garden before breakfast. You know what for, nursey

dear."

"Oh yes, I know," answered nurse; "but you must have a little patience.

There! You have wakened baby with your chatter. I thought you would.

Now I wonder if you two little girls can keep him quiet, and amuse him,

till I am ready."

"Oh yes! Oh yes!" chimed in both voices. "Come here, you darling

baby-brother!"

Baby allowed himself to be transferred from the cradle to his sister's

bed with the greatest equanimity, only opening his large solemn eyes a

little wide as they laughed and played with him.

"Baby George has only had one birthday since he was born," cried

Clarice, kissing him. "I have had eight; that is seven more than he. I

don't think he cared much about his presents, not even the pretty coral

and bells that grandmamma gave him. Did you, darling?" she added, proud

of the responsibility of holding him in her arms. "One, two, three,

four, five kisses more for the sweetest baby that ever lived."

A merry shout from the adjoining room told the sisters that Alfred and

Arthur were also awake.

"Many happy returns of the day!" they cried, peeping in at the door.

"Make haste, Milly; we want you in the garden."

Just then mamma appeared to give the birthday kiss and carry off baby.

When the chatter ceased, the children were got ready for breakfast; and

Carolus went on with his song through everything, trilling out his full

clear notes in the summer sunshine, which now flooded the room.

Pale blush roses, with the dew still upon them, nodded in at the

window, and ivy-twigs bent and trembled as the free birds alighted

on them every moment, charmed and attracted by the clear song of the

captive canary.

The four elder children were allowed to breakfast downstairs with papa

and mamma on birthday mornings; and this was considered a special

treat. Clarice felt quite shy when Milly met her at the dining room

door with a wreath of flowers, wherewith to crown her queen of the day,

and papa led her to the chair beside him.

A number of tempting unopened parcels half-buried in flowers quite

covered her plate, as though she were not expected to eat any

breakfast. Then all the servants came in to prayers, and papa asked God

especially to bless his dear little girl on her birthday by giving her

His Holy Spirit, to teach her to walk in the heavenly way all the years

of her life.

Clarice herself joined earnestly in the petition, for she had lately

learned by experience that being happy meant being good, and this

made her long that God would teach her the way. It was a great puzzle

to know which packet to open first, there were so many. A reference

Bible from papa; a writing-case from mamma, fitted up with everything

a little girl could want to write a letter with; a birthday text-book

from Milly; a silver thimble from Alfred and Arthur; a blue sash

from Aunt Emily; and last of all, in a little box to itself, an

old-fashioned embroidered silk purse, with a golden sovereign shining

inside.

Clarice gave a cry of delight, and clasped her hands together. Papa

looked grieved as he saw the fascination the piece of gold had for her,

and said, "I hope my Clarice is not too fond of money?"

"No, papa dear; I am sure you would not think that, if I could only

tell you something. I am so glad I can do it now. I thought I should

have to wait for months and months."

"Do what?" inquired mamma.

"Oh, mother, please don't ask! It is a real secret—only old Jonathan

knows about it; and he will be so glad too. Papa, I shall whisper to

you about it by and by. There! I won't talk about it any more now,"

said the delighted child, closing the snap of the purse resolutely, and

beginning to admire the other presents over again.

"There is the postman coming up the avenue," said Alfred. "Let me go.

Three letters for Clarice!" he cried, after a speedy return. "One

from grandmamma, one from auntie, and here is another with the London

postmark, and a roll of music. That must be from Uncle George. How rich

you are, Clarice! I wish my birthday was coming soon!"

Breakfast over, and the presents removed to a side table, Clarice sat

herself down in one of the bay windows to read her letters over and

over again, for one contained an invitation from Uncle George to go to

London with papa next month. The other children had left her alone,

to run off and watch the erection of a large white tent on the lawn;

for Clarice had begged, as her birthday treat, that she might have the

school children and their parents to tea. To this request her father

and mother had willingly consented, so glad were they to encourage kind

thought for others in their little ones. The shouting and laughing

outside soon drew Clarice from her retreat; and, as it was a whole

holiday, the morning was spent in decking the interior of the tent with

evergreens and flowers, Jonathan and Robin assisting.

"Jonathan," whispered the birthday queen, after enumerating to him

her various presents, "only think: grandmamma has sent me a golden

sovereign. Will that be enough to buy mamma another vase?" she added

wistfully.

Robin heard the question and the assenting reply. "Ah, if Miss Clarice

could only know the truth about the broken handle!" thought he. "I hate

cook for making me so wicked," he said, half aloud, as he went off to

the shrubbery for more green boughs. "I never was so unhappy in my

life."

And all through that bright birthday there hung a gloom over the boy

that he could not shake off; its shadow pressed upon him as he watched

the merry groups of people trooping through the gate by Jonathan's

cottage, and saw their smiles of satisfaction and delight as the white

tent appeared in view. He had scarcely any heart to go home and fetch

Corrie and mother, though Miss Clarice had herself told him how glad

she should be to see them.

Once more he tried to forget as he watched the bright face of his

little crippled sister, and saw that in his mother's eyes the weary

look of toil had given place to one of real enjoyment and delight.

"It would break her heart if she only knew how bad I am; if it were not

for that, I think I would make up my mind to tell her all."

"Robin does not look a bit glad," said Clarice to Arthur as she ran

forward to welcome the trio. "Has Jonathan been scolding him, I wonder?"

"Mountains of cake!" shouted her brother in answer. "Look, Clarice, at

the trays going into the tent. They will never eat all that."

It certainly did seem an endless supply.

Nevertheless the trays returned again and again to the house to be

replenished, as the happy entertainers went in and out among those

seated at the long tables, to see that everybody had plenty and enjoyed

themselves.

Milly took especial care of poor little Corrie, and sat beside the

basket carriage, holding her plate and cup. She had not forgotten the

lesson of unselfishness learned while decking Corrie's fir bough. It

had formed a link between the two children, that would never be broken.

A few kindly words were spoken by the master of Oaklands at the close

of the feast. He said he hoped they would all remember the greatest

birthday that had ever dawned upon this world, the birthday of the King

of Glory, without whose presence and blessing no life could be a real

true life.

"Everybody," continued he, "who loves God has had two birthdays in

their history: the first, when they were born into this world; the

second, when God opened their eyes by His Holy Spirit to know and love

Him in believing on His dear Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who loved us,

and washed us from our sins in His own blood. For those who, in the

power of this new birth, have entered the true life of the children of

God there can be no doubt; for, when their earthly life is over, God

will Himself open to them the gate of everlasting life. I want you all

to remember about this wonderful soul-birth. You may all of you have it

if you will, for the Holy Spirit waits to breathe upon you the breath

of life; and God has promised to give that blessed Spirit to those who

ask—'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.' May

our heavenly Father, who loves you, bless you one and all."

Clarice stood by her father to shake hands with everyone as they went

away; and in that calm summer evening, as the happy village folk wended

their way to their several homes, that message of peace and goodwill

echoed in their hearts, causing many of them to covet earnestly the

best gift—that blessing of the Lord which maketh rich, adding no sorrow

with it.

"'Truly the Lord is good,' 'and His tender mercies are over all His

works,'" said old Jonathan to himself as he lifted the latch of his

cottage door, after bidding good-night to the last straggler at the

gate.

It was not till the festivities of the birthday were over, that Clarice

returned to the dining room to fetch her presents from the side table,

where she had left them in the morning. She began gathering them up one

by one, and only lingered yet another moment to unsnap her purse, and

take one more look at her golden sovereign. It was gone! The pretty

purse was quite empty. A look of dismay crossed the hitherto untroubled

face; tears welled quickly into the blue eyes, and, a few minutes

after, the little birthday queen was sobbing bitterly in her mother's

arms.

"Oh, mamma! You don't know how dreadful it is to bear, because I can't

tell you my secret. Who can have touched it? I put it so carefully into

the purse this morning. Surely nobody can have come in from the garden

to steal it!"

The poor excited child was gradually soothed and calmed, till nurse,

with a pitying look, suggested she should go to bed. The search

continued through the house. The servants were diligently questioned,

and all set to work to look for the lost money, but in vain.

"Little missy must have thought she put it back into the purse," said

cook, who, down on her knees, feeling all over the dining room carpet,

was foremost in the search. "It must have rolled away into a corner."

Poor little Clarice dried her tears, and said good-night to her father

with a desperate effort. She knew well that no one could be more sorry

than he that a dark cloud should have come to overshadow her happy

birthday. Yet when the nursery door was shut, and Milly asleep, another

shower of tears wetted the tired child's pillow ere she sank into

forgetfulness of her trouble.

"I never heard before that a piece of money had legs to walk away

upon," said Jonathan the next morning, as the tale of the lost

sovereign was repeated to him by cook. "Let those who hide find, say I."

"You don't suppose the thief is In the house!" replied the woman

tartly. "I am as honest as yam, old Jonathan."

"I am glad to hear it," was the gardener's quiet comment as he went out.

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