Brother made his wishes--they must not be spoken aloud--and then took a deep breath.

Pouf! Three of the candles went out

"Three wishes!" shouted the children. "You'll have three wishes come true!"

It was a lovely birthday supper. Everyone said so. They had chicken sandwiches, and cocoa, and vanilla and strawberry ice-cream, and of course the birthday cake, which Brother cut in slices himself with the big silver cake knife.

"Why--look!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sister in surprise, glancing up from her cake at the doorway.

Mother Morrison stood there, smiling, and in her hands she carried what seemed to be a very large pudding or pie baked in a milk pan.

"What is it?" said Brother curiously. "What is it?"

"It's a secret," answered his mother mysteriously. "Grandmother Hastings planned it for you."

"And you and Louise bought part of it," Grandmother Hastings a.s.sured him, nodding and smiling from the other doorway, the one that led into the hall.

She had come over, in her prettiest white and lavender gown, to see the end of the party.

Mother Morrison came up to the table with the pie and the children saw that the paper crust was full of little slits and that from each slit a ribbon hung out. Some were blue and some were pink.

"Each girl must choose a blue ribbon," said Mother Morrison. "The pink ones are for the boys. You pull first, Lucy."

Lucy Reed pulled one of the blue ribbons. She hauled out a little celluloid doll dressed in a gay red frock.

"How lovely!" Lucy cried. "Do we all get something?"

Each child was eager to pull a ribbon, and, wasn't it strange?--there were just enough ribbons to go round! After every one, including Brother and Sister, had had his turn, the "crust" was all torn, and not a single present or ribbon was left.

"Half-past five!" said Louise then, looking at her little wrist-watch.

"We must hurry with the fishing."

So they went into the living-room and had a delightful time fishing in the pond back of the table. There was a gift for everyone who fished, and when six o'clock struck, and it was time to go home, each small guest had a package to take along.

"We've had the nicest time," they called to Mother Morrison as they said good-bye. "We hope Roddy has a party every year."

CHAPTER IX

OUT IN THE BARN

"The party was a great success, eh?" asked Ralph at the breakfast table the next morning. "I judged so, because it was one o'clock before I could leave Dad's office to get some lunch. He and d.i.c.k insisted on holding me there till quarter past."

Brother looked at Sister. Sister looked at Brother. They had both forgotten they meant to telephone Ralph at half-past twelve!

"Don't worry over it, Brother," said Ralph, laughing. "No serious harm was done, old chap. I made Dad tell me the mysterious reason of the wait, and when you didn't 'phone in we all three concluded the party had been too much for you. I'm glad you liked the dog."

"Oh, yes!" Brother seized upon this safe topic. "It is the nicest dog, Ralph. And I did mean to say thank you,' only I forgot."

After Daddy Morrison and Ralph and d.i.c.k had gone off to the station, Brother and Sister began to have queer feelings. Yes'm, they both felt "somehow different," as Brother said.

"I don't want to clear off the table," complained Sister, drawing pictures on the tablecloth with a fork, a practice which Molly had always sternly forbidden.

"Neither do I," agreed Brother. "Let's go out in the barn and play."

"Jimmie won't like it," suggested Sister, taking up a cup so carelessly that some of the coffee left in it slopped over on the clean cloth.

"Jimmie doesn't own the barn," sniffed Brother crossly. "I guess we can just play in it without hurting any of his stuff."

"Here, here, what are you talking so long about?" demanded Molly good-naturedly.

She came to the dining-room door and inspected the table critically.

"Just as I thought," she said grimly. "Too much party yesterday!

Sister, give me that cup and stop marking the cloth. Run off and play, both of you, till you get over being cross. I'd rather do the work myself than listen to you grumble."

Thus dismissed, Brother and Sister wandered off to the barn. They ought to have felt happy with the extra time for play, but, for some reason, they were decidedly uncomfortable.

"Everybody's busy," grumbled Brother. "n.o.body cares what we do. Louise and Grace are sewing, and Mother is going to make strawberry jam. Let's try the rings, Betty."

They were inside the old barn now, and the swinging rings had always fascinated Sister. But she knew that Jimmie had said they were not to touch them, and indeed Daddy Morrison had warned the children not to play in the barn unless some of the older boys were with them.

"It is really Jimmie's and Ralph's gymnasium," he had explained. "They know how to use the apparatus, and you don't. When you are older, Jimmie will teach you and you may play there all you wish."

Sister looked longingly at the rings when Brother suggested them.

"Where's Jimmie?" she asked cautiously.

"Up in his room studying," answered Brother confidently.

Jimmie had been "conditioned" in the June examinations, and now spent part of every vacation day studying so that he might take another test before school opened in the fall.

"All right," agreed Sister, a.s.sured that Jimmie was not likely to walk in upon them. "How'll we get the rings untied?"

The rings were fastened up out of the way, tied to a nail on the side wall, so that when not in use they did not take up any room. Jimmie could reach this nail easily, but, of course, it was far above Brother's head.

"I'll get the step-ladder," announced Brother confidently. "You hold it for me."

The step-ladder was an old one and inclined to wobble. Brother mounted it slowly, and Sister sat down on the lowest step to hold it steady.

Her weight was not enough to anchor the ladder, and it still shook crazily when Brother reached the highest step and stood on his tiptoes to reach the string that held the swings on the nail.

"What are you kids up to now?" a voice asked suddenly.

It was Jimmie! He had come out to the barn to get a book he had left in the corner cupboard.