“Huh,” boasted Tommy, “I am going to get rich, if I didn’t find the money in the cake.”

“Sailors don’t get rich,” said the Captain.  “It’s a poor profession.”

“Aw, a sailor,” stammered Tommy, getting very red, “I’m not going to be a sailor.  I’m going to learn typewriting, and go to the city in an office.”

And thus ended the Cause of Thomas, the Downtrodden!

But Amelia’s plans proved the most interesting.

“I’m going to write,” she announced, placidly.  “I wrote a poem for Judy’s birthday.”

“Read it,” they demanded, and Amelia, feeling very important, delivered the following: 

  “Oh, candy, oh, sugar, oh, cake, and oh, pie,
  Are not half so sweet as dear J-U-D-Y.”

It brought down the house, and Amelia was overcome by the honors heaped upon her.

“It isn’t very good poetry,” she confessed modestly, “but it means a lot.”

And then the Captain made a little speech, in which he thanked Judy’s friends for the happy summer she had spent among them.  And then Launcelot made a speech and thanked Judy for the good times she had given them.  And while Launcelot’s speech wasn’t as polished as the Captain’s, it was so earnestly spoken that Judy was proud of her boy friend.

And after that they filed out to the old garden, the Judge and Mrs. Batcheller, and the Captain and Judy, Launcelot with his fair little friend Anne, and behind them the smaller fry, and Perkins—­the wonderful Perkins at the end, with the coffee.

And there we will leave them, there in the old garden, where Judy had found hope and happiness, and where the little fountain sang ceaselessly to the nodding roses, of life and love, and of the things that had been and of the things that were to be.

THE END.