HILARY’S BIRTHDAY BOX
A curious friendship had sprung up between Cathalina and Isabel Hunt.
Perhaps the first tie was the devotion to Cathalina of Avalon Moore,
Isabel’s roommate. Then Cathalina was a revelation to Isabel, crude,
motherless little girl that she was. For Isabel had been brought up by a
father troubled about business affairs, by a queer old cousin who kept
house, and by four older brothers.
“No wonder Isabel talks as carelessly as she does, Mamma,” wrote
Cathalina. “I could not bear her at first. But she has the dearest,
warmest heart, and is such a little wild rose of a thing, with her curly
hair and rosy cheeks, that I’ve changed my mind. Miss Randolph said that
she is ‘a dear little girl that ought to have more love and care.’ She
and Avalon hang around our ‘bunch,’ as Isabel calls us, as much as
possible and are delighted to make themselves useful.
“Now, dearest Mothery, don’t forget what I told you about Hilary’s
birthday. Please let me give her something nice, won’t you? I’ll run the
risk of her feeling ‘under obligation.’ She is such a dear and has been
so lovely to me. I’ll never even tell her before _my_ birthday. Besides,
my birthday does not come in school time. Hilary will be sixteen! I’m
glad she is older than I; I’ve depended upon her a lot. She knows so
much more about people, someway, than I do. Her mother is going to send
her a birthday box and I’m ever so curious to see what a real birthday
box at school is like.”
The “bunch” to which Cathalina referred was the group of girls who lived
for the most part on Lakeview Corridor. It was not a “clique”,
exclusive, but merely the usual drawing together of a merry group that
chanced to become better acquainted through association in classes or
some personal attraction to each other. But there were other nice girls
on this corridor and elsewhere, with whom in time Cathalina and Hilary
formed many pleasant friendships.
Three exciting events were on for the last week of October: Hilary’s
birthday, the election of captain for the Junior (Academy) basketball
team, and the Hallowe’en masquerade. Tongues were gabbling and fingers
flying on costumes in the interesting hours between recitation, study
hours, mealtime and bedtime. Lights were rarely out on time and many
were the dread reproofs from teachers on the different corridors.
Cathalina was on the committee for the Hallowe’en performance, while
Hilary was deep in the interests of basketball. She was “out for the
team” and the recipient of confidences on all sides.
On the day of her birthday, Hilary was flying down the hall, tapping at
different doors.
Isabel’s brown curls lifted from the remarkable costume on which she was
sewing with unaccustomed fingers. “Where’s Avalon?” Hilary asked, as she
held the door part way open.
“She has not been up since lunch.”
“Then invite her for me, please, when she comes in. I want both of you
to come to our feast tonight. I am to have a box from home if nothing
happens. It is to arrive this afternoon, so the things will be fresh. If
it _should_ be delayed, we’ll have the feast tomorrow.”
“O, goody!—you’re a duck, Hilary. I’ll be dee-lighted and so will
Avalon. It’s awfully good of you to invite us with the big girls!”
Isabel jumped up, dropping scissors and work on the floor, while she ran
to take Hilary’s face in her two hands and kiss her. “Many happy
returns!”
Hilary looked embarrassed, for she “wasn’t much at kissing.”
“Be sure to come,” she said hospitably, as she vanished to tap at the
next door. “What in the world is this!” and Hilary pretended to start
back in fright. A fierce growl greeted this question, as Diane in a
bear’s costume, to which Helen had been putting a few last stitches, sat
up, waved brown paws and started a rolling dance.
“Isn’t it good?” asked Helen.
“Great!” Hilary replied, clapping her hands in applause.
“This, ladies and gentlemen, is the only Cinnamon-Black Bear in
captivity,” said Helen, as she slipped into a rough coat and adjusted a
man’s slouch hat over her eyes. “Here is his chain.” She threw a long
iron chain around Diane’s neck. “This is the worst place to get
anything. I wish Miss Randolph would let us go to the city for
costumes.”
“She said we’d have just as much fun with inexpensive things. But I’m
forgetting my errand. Cathalina Van Buskirk and Hilary Lancaster will be
at home this evening at eight o’clock and will be happy to see Miss
Diane Percy, Helen Paget, Miss Lilian North, and Miss Betty Barnes at
that time,—very promptly—if we don’t send for you to help before!”
“Don’t worry. We wouldn’t miss it. Has the box come?”
“No; but Mother said it would before night, and what Mother can’t put
through has not yet been discovered! Miss Randolph said we could sit up
a while after ‘lights out,’ so we can have a good time and not hurry.
Yum-yum, I know Uncle Andrew’s chickens from Brookdale farm will be in
it!”
“Did you say ‘CHICKENS’? in the _plural_?” asked Diane in deep and husky
tones, while she made her eyes big and waved her claws again.
“Ow! Let me escape, fierce beast!” and Hilary disappeared.
As Hilary came into the room, Cathalina, who like all the rest was
industriously sewing, pointed with a smile to the birthday box, just
deposited near the table by the janitor. The top was open and the nails
carefully drawn from the boards.
“Hooray!” cried Hilary. “But I’m not going to take a thing out till
after dinner.”
“How can you wait so long?”
“Because I think it will be fun to take it all out at once, and it will
spoil our appetites to nibble at things,—and how could we help it?—and
then, Mother has packed that box and I know that the eats and everything
are in glorious shape. They’ll be better to stay as they are until we
are ready. I hope the girls won’t eat much at dinner.”
“If I were Pearl Opal I’d exclaim—‘eat much? here?’”
“Poor Pearl! How she hates it here!”
“When are you going to have the feast, Hilary?”
“About half-past eight or nine o’clock, though it’s supposed to be a
‘midnight feast.’ We’ll begin to borrow dishes and fix up soon after
dinner. Won’t it be jolly? It isn’t every girl that can be at Greycliff
and have a birthday and a big box from home.”
“A little package came to me, too,” said Cathalina, putting down her
work and going into the bedroom. In a moment she appeared with a little
black leather case.
“O, what did they send you?” asked generous Hilary, who was always glad
for the good fortune of others. Cathalina opened the case. There on soft
ivory satin lay a delicate gold chain with an exquisite little pendent
of opals and tiny diamonds.
“How beautiful!” exclaimed Hilary, looking closely.
“Try it on,” Cathalina invited, her eyes dancing.
“Isn’t it the sweetest thing, Cathalina! It will be so pretty with all
your low-necked dresses.”
“Yes it—won’t, Miss Hilary,” replied Cathalina, who could not wait any
longer. Putting her arm about Hilary, she held the hands that were
beginning to unfasten the clasp. “It’s yours, girlie, with ‘many happy
returns.’ I had Mamma get your birthstones, for it’s lucky, they say for
October girls to wear opals.” Cathalina laughed at Hilary’s astounded
look. “I hope that you will enjoy it and remember your old goose of a
roommate when you wear it.”
“You old darling!—but I can’t, really, it’s too nice,—opals and
diamonds!”
“It isn’t much, honestly. I wanted Mamma to get something nicer, but she
knew best, I suppose.”
“What _could_ be nicer? O! It is so lovely!” and Hilary looked in the
mirror again. “It surely is a surprise. I don’t feel I ought to have it,
but thank you a thousand times!” Hilary hugged the happy Cathalina, who
said, “Put on for dinner your white organdy with the V neck and see how
this looks with it.”
“All right. I’ll have to change again, though, can’t risk my pretty
dress unpacking.”
“Grace says that the girls usually wear their kimonos at a late spread.”
As she spoke, Cathalina smiled, thinking what her mother would say if
she saw her daughter in the big figured kimono which she had purchased
at the Greycliff Heights “emporium”. Her lacy negligee she had found
scarcely suitable for Greycliff “stunts”.
Lessons, Gym practice, dinner, committee meetings and a turn outdoors
were all over at last. Hilary’s “sparkler”, as Isabel called it, had
been duly admired and commented on by dozens of girls. She and Cathalina
flew up to their suite and were joined by Isabel and Avalon, who had
begged to be allowed to help.
“We’ll get the dishes all ready before we unpack the box. Then we can
set the goodies right on the table, Isabel. Will you please go to 57 and
borrow the girls’ kettle for the cocoa?”
“I’ll make that,” offered Avalon. She was taking domestic science and
welcomed a chance to practice.
“All right; I brought up the milk and put it out on the window ledge.
And I wonder if you wouldn’t help gather up dishes now. Run around to
Grace and Eloise first. With theirs and those from fifty-one, and ours,
of course, we’ll have enough, I think. O, yes,—tell ’em to bring what
spoons they have.” So directed Hilary.
Books and papers were piled on window sills and floor. Whisk went the
table runner and Cathalina came trotting with a dust cloth. A clean
dresser scarf and paper napkins made sufficient covering for the table,
and a pile of wooden plates was placed on one end. “Now let’s see,”
pondered Hilary. “Two can sit on the cedar chest here, three on your new
box, Cathalina,” whirling around a light box which had been another
purchase at the Emporium, and contained little of weight as yet. “That’s
five, and four chairs, nine; and when the box is empty it can stand on
end with a cushion on it. A few chairs from Lil’s will finish out
nicely.”
“What’s the matter with cushions on the floor?”
“O, well, we’re having more than light refreshments and I’m afraid it
would get tiresome.”
Bright pink spots burned on Hilary’s cheeks as she hurried around to get
everything ready. Then she began to draw one package after another out
of the birthday box. First came a flat paper box, which contained some
acceptable little gifts for the sixteen-year-old daughter. Within the
tissue paper lay some bright hair ribbons, a pair of kid gloves, a
dainty handkerchief and some fragrant sachets made by June from satin
ribbon. These were admired by the girls who stood or sat near, but they
were much more interested in the rest of the contents. A birthday letter
Hilary slipped into her belt to read presently.
“Look, girls, the big box in the middle has the chicken, I know!” Hilary
lifted the lid and disclosed tempting pieces of fried chicken well
wrapped in oiled paper. “Please take them out, Isabel, and arrange on
some of the wooden plates, on a paper napkin, you know.”
“How many chickens do you suppose your mother cooked? Here’s nothing but
breast and second joints and nice things.”
“They’re having chicken pie on the remains,” said Hilary laughing.
“Here’s some of June’s famous salad, two quart cans,—and do you like
blackberry jelly, Avalon? Good, two glasses. That is all I was afraid of
that there wouldn’t be enough of the little things for the crowd. But
Mother knew little Hilary!”
A big birthday cake, candles in a box; nut bread; pimento and cheese
sandwiches; country butter; fresh rolls, home-made; a package of June’s
fudge and “divinity”; cream candies, made with fondant; a large candy
box of blanched almonds and hickory nut meats; olives and fine home-made
pickles, all came in quick succession from that still famous box. In the
corners and around about were tucked oranges and red and golden apples.
The girls shook every scrap of paper for fear they might miss something.
“And everything so wonderfully packed!” they exclaimed. As the table was
not large enough to hold it all, the cake and other goodies for dessert
were carried into the other room and the top of the dresser cleared to
hold them.
“I feel like a little piggy-hog,” sighed Isabel, looking at the table
full of good things.
“Help yourselves,” said Hilary, turning to the book-shelves and then
passing a box of chocolates which had reposed there, having arrived from
Aunt Hilary that morning.
“One chocolate and a pickle is my limit,” Avalon decided, and turned her
back on the table to enjoy those delicacies. “We must save our appetites
for the chicken. We can buy candy, but where can we ever get chicken
like that?” Avalon, long over her homesickness, was almost as full of
life as Isabel.
“Now for the cocoa, Avalon,—I’ll help.” Cathalina’s housewifely
instincts supplied what experience lacked and she found that she liked
to fuss around after this fashion.
Then the guests began to arrive. Diane Percy, Helen Paget, Lilian North,
Betty Barnes, Grace Barnard, Eloise Winthrop and two newer friends,
Juliet Howe and Pauline Tracy, came in, one or two at a time. Juliet and
Pauline, like Hilary, were “out” for basketball. Both were active,
athletic girls. Pauline, known as “Polly”, was a plump, rather solid
looking girl, with round cheeks, full, pleasant mouth, quantities of
long black hair, steady grey eyes, and strong, capable looking hands,
equally efficient for basketball, tennis, and rowing, or for driving,
and cooking for hungry cowboys on the ranch from which she came. “She
can do even more than Hilary, Betty says,” wrote Cathalina to her
mother. Cathalina had never met a girl just like Pauline, and was much
interested in everything about her. Juliet was known as Polly’s Shadow,
partly because of their intimacy. She was almost Polly’s twin in
complexion, hair and eyes, but was tall and thin, with long, slender
face. Swiftness and general activity were her particular recommendations
for basketball.
Grace came in the dress which she had worn to dinner and was sent back
by Isabel for a kimono. “Nobody can come without a wedding garment,”
cried she, picking up a last piece of oiled paper to tuck in the waste
basket, and bringing a cushion for the wooden box, which she had set on
end. “Come one, come all!”
“All right, kiddie,” said Grace, looking around with amusement at the
gay garments, “I’ll be glad enough to get into one.”
“Now excuse me just a minute while I read my letter. I can’t wait any
longer. I was not expecting to find one in the box or I would have
unpacked it before. You can pass the candy and pickles again, girls, as
an appetizer. Grace will be back in a minute.”
So Hilary ran into the bedroom, carrying her precious birthday letter
with its words of praise for past days and blessings and good cheer for
the days to come. She also opened a second package from Aunt Hilary,
taking out a silk workbag, all fitted out with scissors, new thimble and
all the accessories. “Look, girls,” she said, going back to her guests,
“this is one thing that we did not get ready last summer. I brought my
old work box.”
Such exclamations as there had been when each guest had caught sight of
the table. Betty Barnes, perched on the wooden box, shook her head when
asked to take a more comfortable seat. “Thank you, this is so handy to
the table!” With her little slippered feet she beat a tattoo against the
boards as she ate the pickle for which Hilary well knew each girl’s
mouth would water. Betty was in high spirits and all the girls in gay
humor. In a few minutes Avalon and Cathalina arrived with the steaming
kettle of cocoa, and after some skirmishing around for the proper number
of cups, plates and paper napkins, the feast began, much later than
planned, but as the girls all said, the later the better!