A BIRTHDAY STORY
cap, or perhaps an apron. At the same time she drew forth the " cracking thing," which she loved to pull and hear it go " crack." But she always did so at arm's length with her head turned away, and she was too frightened to pull it all by herself.
Their nurse's voice was heard calling Maisie to come up and be dressed. Hilda, with a guilty, conscience-stricken look, had barely time to throw the useless "cracking thing" out of the open window, and to hide the rest of the cracker in the first thing at hand (which happened to be the doll's house), when they both entered laughing and carried her off too, to be curled and be-ribboned for the party.
"I've seen my birthday cake, Hilda," cried Maisie, capering about. " It's booful! " But Hilda still tasted that nauseous liqueur from the sweet, and couldn't enter into any pleasing ideas of cake.
Ready first, she ran into the nursery, curious as ever as to the pink and green paper bundle, took it out, unfolded it, and found that it would have formed a crown—only it didn't join together; she had torn it in her hurry. She stamped her foot with vexation, and was wondering if she could stick the two ends together when that tiresome Maisie came running in from the next room with one of her new bronze shoes on to show how beautiful it looked. Quick as lightning Hilda had to hide her secret again.
" What are you doing with the doll's house ?