“I’m going to write Kit all about it,” said Marjorie; “she’d have loved that game, if she’d been here.”

“She loves any make-believe game,” said King.  “You write to her, Midget; I’ve got to write up The Jolly Sandboy paper.”

“I should think you had!  You haven’t done one for two weeks.”

“I know it; but it’s because nobody sends in any contributions.  I can’t make it all up alone.”

“’Course you can’t.  When I write to Kitty, I’ll ask her if she hasn’t some things we could put in it.  She and Uncle Steve are always making up poetry and stories.”

“Good idea, Mops!  Tell her to be sure to send me a lot of stuff, first thing she does!”

“Well, I will;” and Marjorie set to work at her letter.

It was finished by dinner time, for Marjorie’s letters to her sister were not marked by any undue precision of style or penmanship, and as Marjorie laid it on the hall table to be mailed, she told King that she had given Kitty his message.

“Father,” said Midget, at dinner, that night, “what day did Cousin Jack say was Pocahontas’ birthday?”

“I don’t remember, my dear; but I’m quite sure he doesn’t really know, nor any one else.  I fancy he made up that date.”

“Well, do you know of anybody, anybody nice and celebrated, whose birthday comes about now?”

“The latter part of July?  No, Midget, I don’t.  Why?”

“Oh, ’cause I think it would be nice to have a celebration, and you can’t celebrate without a hero.”

“Do you call Pocahontas a hero?” asked King, quizzically.

“Well, she’s a heroine,—­it’s all the same.  When do you s’pose her birthday was, Father?”

“I’ve no idea, Midget; and Cousin Jack hasn’t, either.  But if you want to celebrate her, you can choose any day.  You see, it isn’t like a birthday that’s celebrated every year, Washington’s, Lincoln’s, or yours.  If you’re just going to celebrate once, you can take one day as well as another.”

“Oh, can I, Father?  Then, we’ll have it next week.  I’ll choose August first,—­that’s a nice day.”

“What’s it all about, Midge?” asked King.

“Oh, nothing; only I took a notion for a celebration.  We had such good times on Fourth of July and on my birthday, I want another birthday.”

“I think it’s a good idea to choose some uncelebrated person like Pocahontas,” said Mrs. Maynard; “for if you don’t celebrate her I doubt if anybody ever will.”

“And you see we can have it all sort of Indian,” went on Midget.  “You know we’ve a good many Indian baskets and beads and things,—­and, Father, couldn’t you build us a wigwam?”

“Oh, yes, a whole reservation, if you like.”

“No, just one wigwam.  And we’ll only have the Sand Club.  I don’t mean to have a party.”

“All right, I’m in for it,” declared King, and right after dinner, the two set to work making plans for the celebration.