Now, some people couldn’t do very much with the funds at Cousin Susy’s disposal, but she could, and when Jack’s money was spent for refreshments what do you think they had?  Why, a great big pan of gingerbread, all marked out in squares with the knife, and raisins in it; and a round loaf of cup cake, frosted over with sugar, with thirty-six tiny tapers all ready to light, and a pitcher of lemonade, a plate of apples, and a big platter of popped corn.

Jack danced for joy, but softly, for mother had come home from her day’s work and was tired, and the party was to be a surprise, and she was not to be allowed to step into the little square parlor.

That parlor was the pride of Jack and his mother.  It had a bright rag carpet, a table with a marble top, six chairs, and a stool called an ottoman.  On the wall between the windows hung a framed picture of Jack’s dear father, who was in heaven, and over the mantelpiece there was a framed bouquet of flowers, embroidered by Jack’s mother on white satin, when she had been a girl at school.

“Seems to me, Jack,” said Mrs. Hillyard as she sat down in the kitchen to her cup of tea, “there is a smell of fresh gingerbread; I wonder who’s having company.”

Jack almost bit his tongue trying not to laugh.

“Oh!” said he grandly, “gingerbread isn’t anything, mamma.  When I’m a man you shall have pound-cake every day for breakfast.”

By and by Mrs. Maloney and Patsy dropped in.

“I thought,” said Mrs. Maloney, “it was kind o’lonesome-like at home, and I’d step in and see you and Jack to-night, ma’am.”

“That was very kind,” replied Mrs. Hillyard.

“Why, here comes Mr. Ralph,” she added.  “Well the more the merrier!”

Tap, tap, tap.

The neighbors kept coming, and coming, and Jack grew more and more excited, till at last when all were present, Cousin Susy, opening the parlor door, displayed the marble-top of the table covered with a white cloth, and there were the refreshments.

“A happy birthday, mother.”

“Many returns.”

“May you live a hundred years.”

One and another had some kind word to say, and each gave a present, a card, or a flower, or a trifle of some sort, but with so much good will and love that Mrs. Hillyard’s face beamed.  All day she stood behind a counter in a great big shop, and worked hard for her bread and Jack’s, but when evening came she was a queen at home with her boy and her friends to pay her honor.

“And were you surprised, and did you like the cake and the thirty-six candles, dearest, darling mamma?” said Jack, when everybody had gone home.

“Yes, my own manly little laddie, I liked everything, and I was never so surprised in my life.”  So the birthday party was a great success.

    A Coquette.

    BY AMY PIERCE.