Chapter X Beth’s Birthday
The space between our birthdays seems to grow apace,
When we’re young they loiter; when we’re old they race.
It began with a bad time; and so did the next day, as things sometimes do, even though they turn out all right at the end, like a rainy morning that clears off into a blue and gold afternoon. Ethelwyn and Beth did not fall out very often, but then they didn’t have a birthday very often, nor Christmas, nor any other of the days when the land flows with ice cream and candy, and is bounded on the next day by crossness and pitfalls.
That was one reason.
That day early they had decided never to be bad again, never; “because,” said Ethelwyn, “it is very troublesome getting good again, and makes mother feel bad.”
“Uh huh,” said Beth.
They were not up yet, and the door leading into their mother’s room was open.
This was their “present” birthday, but they had not yet begun on their presents. For fear you shouldn’t understand this, I will tell you Beth’s way of explaining it.
“Sister and me is twin children two years all but a month apart, and on the first birthday which comes in July, we have presents, and on the second, in August, we have a party, or a trip away, or something, and we have all the month to choose in.”
They generally chose thirty different things. Their mother nearly always let them have the last one, but once or twice, as when they wanted to go up in an air ship, she compromised on a steam launch on the river, as safer, and nearer at hand.
This morning being “present” morning, they were glad to see the sunshine darting in at their window, and to hear the birds singing outside something like this—
“Wake up, children: the day is new.
It’s full of joy for dears like you.”
So they woke up laughing, at least Ethelwyn did, and told Beth what the birds sang; but Beth was sleepy and uttered her usual “Uh huh.”
“You are a very lazy child,” said Ethelwyn in a superior tone, “and are not thinking about your presents at all, nor the making of good revolutions.”
“What’s them?” asked Beth, still with her eyes shut.
“Something you need to make very much, for you are not too good a child, I’m sorry to say. Mother esplained about people making things like that at New Year’s, and birthdays, and so I’ve been thinking of some specially for you—”
“I can make my own,” said Beth, fully awake now, “and I can help make yours when it comes to that, I guess.”
“Well,” said Ethelwyn, “I have been thinking of a few for you to begin with. One is, never to be late for breakfast, and not to be selfish about getting the bath first, and never wanting to give up when your sister wants you to—”
“You can make your own, while I’m getting my bath first now,” said Beth, sliding out of bed. “I’m anxious to see my presents.”
Ethelwyn, speechless with rage, hastened her departure with a push, and then fell asleep until the breakfast bell rang. How mortified she felt after what she had said to Beth! Sierra Nevada hurried her through her bath and toilet as quickly as she could, but she would be late for breakfast anyway. When she came into the dining-room, her mother kissed her gravely, but she was not allowed to look at her presents until after she had eaten. She felt very miserable at the shrieks of delight from Beth, who was dancing around her doll house, with its two floors beautifully furnished, and dolls of every size, shape, and color living in it.
No wonder the oatmeal and the muffins lost their flavor!
But Ethelwyn effervesced quickly, and as quickly subsided. Presently she was glad again, for there were books, candy, games, a walking doll from Paris that could talk as well, and a camera from Aunty Stevens. The camera, she told her mother, she had been longing for for years and years.
Uncle Tom sent each of them some candy, and a five dollar gold piece, with a note intimating that they were to spend it as they liked. Then there were two bicycles from Uncle Bob, some more candy, a pony, and some home-made molasses candy from their grandmother. The pony was a real live pony, and Joe, a dear friend of theirs, from a near-by livery stable was to take care of it.
“I feel thankful that we are a large family of relatives,” said Beth, after a long and speechless period of rapture.
Their mother, being a wise woman, put away some of the candy, all but grandmother’s molasses, and a box or two for friends. Then came little Nora, the niece of their dressmaker, Mrs. O’Neal, with a quart of pecans, for the birthday. She went home with a box of candy, and told her little sister Katie about it.
“O I wanted to go too,” wailed Katie.
“You were asleep, dear, when I went, but I told them the nuts were from you, too.”
“But I wanted to hear them say, ‘thank you!’ Take me now.”
“I have to go down town for auntie. But she’ll let you go.”
“Yes, indeed,” said their busy aunt when asked.
So Katie went up-stairs to make herself tidy.
“It’s mesilf wants to take a ‘silvernear,’” she said as she scrubbed herself; and then in an evil moment, she beheld a small plate with a bunny on it, which Nora owned and loved.
“It’s just the thing,” thought Katie, “and kind of partly mine because it’s in our room.”
So she took it with her when she went, and it burned her little hand like fire.
Ethelwyn and Beth were preparing a tea party in the doll house.
“O Katie, how nice!” said Ethelwyn. “We’ll put it in the tea party. We were coming over to get you and Nora to come; there are some beautiful iced cakes coming up in a minute.”
“I can’t stay,” said Katie feebly, “I feel kind of sick inside.”
So saying she rushed home, but it was no use; poor Katie’s conscience grew worse all the time, and presently she came back.
“I—I—know you won’t like me any more,” she said, red and miserable, “but it’s Nora’s plate I gave you, and I’m no better than a thafe.”
But Ethelwyn and Beth put their arms around her, and comforted her dear little sore heart.
“I know just how you feel,” said Ethelwyn. “I took mother’s gold dragon stick-pin for my dolly’s blanket one day, because I was in a hurry, and lost it of course, and felt so mizzable, as if nothing could ever be nice again. Now take the plate and go and get Nora, dear, and we’ll have the best tea party.”
And they did, and the guests had each another box of candy for their “silvernears,” besides, but Ethelwyn and Beth ate far too much, and that’s the reason their next day good time began by being a bad time too.