"O Berta! you don't want to kill poor Fluff, do you? She was almost smothered in the basket with that thick rug tucked in all around it; and I'm sure I wouldn't think that stiff straw very comfortable."

"Mary, I think you is jes' drefful! You is spoiling all our nice s'prises ev'y single time, so you is! And we's not going to tell you 'bout the telefome book, so now!"

"Ye----es," big tears filled Beth's eyes, "we thinked we is making beauty s'prises for Daddy when we wrapped ev'y single nail so nice and smooth and packed the telefome book 'way, 'way down in the bottom of our box; and now you come and say they isn't nice s'prises at all, and----and----"

"Why, Bethy, I know you meant to make the loveliest surprises in the whole world, but you just made a little mistake, don't you see?

Wilhelmina and I have made ever so many mistakes, and we didn't mind when Mother or Aunt Etta told us to unpack a great big trunk and pack it all over again a better way. But I know something that would be a beautiful surprise for everybody in the whole house, and I am sure that no one else would think of doing it. There are things in the yard that we shall need at Bird-a-Lea, and if you three would go around and mark them with some lovely colored chalk that I shall give you, it will save poor Father ever so much time and trouble. Wait for me on the side porch while I run upstairs for the chalk. Berta shall have a red stick, because red is her color; and Beth must have blue; and what color would you like, d.i.c.k?"

"Yellow's a pretty good color, Mary, and it shows, too."

In a very short time, Mary returned with the chalk, and to Beth's question, "Must we make ev'ything all red and blue and yellow all over?" she hastened to reply, "Indeed, no. Just a little criss-cross on the things you think we should take."

"But what kind of things, Mary?"

"I'll show you, Berta. I see one right now." And d.i.c.k bounded down the steps to put a yellow mark on a rake leaning against a tree.

"Oh, I know where they's whole lots of things. I saw them this morning-time when we went to get the basket. Come on, chilluns!"

Berta led the way around to the back steps. A hoe and a spade stood between them and the fence and were promptly marked. Beth next spied a broom on the porch; and d.i.c.k, a basket of clothes pins.

"'M, 'm, 'm, it's going to take a puff.e.c.kly drefful long time to mark ev'y single one of these."

"Just mark the basket, Berta," said d.i.c.k.

But the little girl thought each pin should be plainly marked, and the three were very busy for some time.

"Does you think we ought to mark the steps, Beth?"

"Why, Berta, they's plenty of steps at Bird-a-Lea, _plenty_! Doesn't you 'member? They's some in front and some in back and some at both sides all going up to the porch."

"W----ell, what else is they to take? Oh, I know! The wheely-ba'l, so we can have nice rides in our own garden same as Danny gives us in his wheely-ba'l in the garden at Aunt Mary's."

"If you'll come home with us, I'll let you ride in my billy goat cart."

"What _is_ that, d.i.c.k?"

"Why----why, it's a dandy, little, red cart that we harness a billy goat to, 'stead of a pony or horse."

"But what _is_ a billy goat?"

"A billy goat? Didn't you girls ever see a billy goat? He's just an animal for pulling carts and----and----"

"What kind of a ama.n.a.l, d.i.c.k?"

"How big is he?"

"What color is he?"

"He's about as big as Thor--that's our dog--and he's a sort of a white color 'cept when he rolls in the dust, and he's got horns, and when he gets mad you've got to look out or he'll stick them into you----"

"Oh, oh! I guess I like a wheely-ba'l best of all."

"But, Beth, somebody has to push you in that, and you can drive our Billy 'zactly the same as a horse. He doesn't get mad very often; and when he does, we run behind trees so he can't get at us. Ask your father and mother to let you come home with us. We'll have no end of fun."

"But----but I 'splained to you, d.i.c.k, the why we can't go home with you. We has to live in our own house with Father and Mother and Uncle Frank and Mary. It would be ever so much better if you would bring your billy cart and come to live at Bird-a-Lea. They's so many chilluns in your fambly, and they's only three in ours, and we hasn't nenny little brothers 'cept two in heaven."

"But, you see, Berta, it doesn't make any diff'runce how many children we have in our family. A fellow's s'posed to live with his own father and mother."

"Maybe Daddy and Mother will take us to see d.i.c.k and Jack sometime, Berta; and then you will ride us in your billy cart, won't you, d.i.c.k?

And when you come to see us at Bird-a-Lea, you can have a nice ride in our wheely-ba'l, so you can."

They next marked the garden benches and porch chairs.

"And I'se quite sure Daddy will say we must take this nice white walk.

They's only all little stones on the walks at Bird-a-Lea."

"That's gravel. We have that on all our walks and on the driveway.

Everybody in the country has that 'stead of walks like this."

They went around and around the old-fashioned yard, putting colored marks on everything they thought should be taken to the new home, until there was very little left of their sticks of chalk.

"I know what ought to be marked. Ourselves. We're not going to be left behind."

"Oh, yes, d.i.c.k, let's mark our own selfs," cried the twins; and when poor old Aunt Mandy came to call them to get washed before luncheon, she threw up her hands in horror at sight of their faces streaked with red, blue, and yellow, in real Indian style.

After luncheon, Mr. Selwyn was taken out to see the "s'prise," and he had to turn aside and cough many times when he saw even the leaves of certain plants in the garden plainly marked.

"In course, Daddy, we know they's a big, _big_ garden of most beauty flowers at Bird-a-Lea; but p'raps they isn't nenny jes' 'zactly like these. And Beth and I can't 'member if they's nenny Kismus trees out there; so we thinked it would be better to take this nice little one so Sandy Claws will find it when he comes, you know."

"Oho! trust him to find dozens of Christmas trees ever so much larger and finer than this one in the country around our new home, pet. Santa Claus does not depend on city yards and parks for his Christmas trees.

No, indeed!"

The afternoon nap that day was very much shorter, for the three were bent on helping indoors. They were not very well pleased, therefore, when they were dressed for the afternoon and sent out to play in the yard. The Doctor, coming home early, saw them walking about in a listless way and went out to see what the trouble was.

"Well, what is wrong now, little folks?"

"O Uncle! ev'ybody is all the time saying, 'Not jes' now,' and 'After while,' and 'Not at present, thank you,' and all things same as that when we want to help, so they is," pouted Beth.

"Yes, and we didn't ask nennybody for presents, Uncle, not ever, ever at all."

"Not ever, ever at all. We jes' want to help."

"And when _is_ 'after while,' anyway, Uncle Frank. Seems to me big folks are always saying that, and it never comes," added d.i.c.k.

"Dear, dear, it is too bad to have your feelings hurt in this way. I must see what can be done about it. Surely there must be something for such willing hands to do."

"Oh, we did whole lots of things this morning-time. See all those red and blue and yellow marks we made on ev'ything?" Beth lowered her voice. "All 'cept Jack. He's too little, you know; but he's so cute."

"Yes, I saw the marks as soon as I came out here. May I ask what they mean?"