They were busy with pencil and paper, making out a list of little girls who were to be invited to their birthday party. It happened that both birthdays came in September, and so they could be celebrated together. "Shall we invite Minnie Dale?" asked Nellie. "No; of course not," Madge answered with a curl of her pretty lip. "Why not?" said Nellie. "She's the best girl in school, and she's pretty too." "Well, it won't do," Madge declared, with the air and tone of a much older young lady than ten. "She doesn't belong." "Belong to what? She belongs to our day-school and our Sunday-school." "Oh, what a little stupid you are," laughed Madge. "She doesn't belong to our set, of course. Do you know where she lives? She lives in that little bit of a brown house way down on Cedar street, just about as big as our smoke house." "Does she?" said her sister. "Why, I thought she was as good as any of us. She always wears pretty dresses, and she acts—well, sort o' stylish." "You mustn't say sort o'," said Madge. "You mean she has pretty manners; that's what they call it. Oh, yes; she's nice enough, but what do you suppose Elsie Melbourne, and Clara Haines, and Lina Vedder would say to meeting a girl here who lives in such a hut as that, no matter how she looks and acts?" "Sure enough!" Nellie answered. "It would not do, would it?" Grandma arose just then and went to the bureau. She brought out a small rosewood box, and sitting down again by the fire, unlocked it. This drew the children's attention. They always liked to get a peep into grandma's treasures. She had so many curious and pretty things, and told such nice stories about them. So they came over to her, and this was just what she wished them to do. "Do you want to see my old home?" Grandma said as she brought out a drawing and handed it to them. "Why, grandma, what do you mean?" they both said at once. "Why, this is a log house!" Madge said. "And it's such a little bit of a house!" said Nellie. "Now, grandma, you truly didn't ever live there?" "I truly did!" grandma answered. "And a prettier home, or a happier one you never saw. "When I was married, I went with your grandfather to live in this little house. It stood among the trees, and there was a brook not far away that went racketing over the stones. We used to take long walks in summer, after tea; in summer evenings following up that little brook. Sometimes it ran through green meadows, and then it wound and twisted itself around the hills and on into the dark, cool woods. There were moss-covered stones in it, and ferns and violets grew on its banks: such a pretty place as you never saw, my dears!" "But how could you live in such a very little house?" "Oh! Plenty of room," said grandma. "You wouldn't believe it to look at it, but in that house we had a parlor, bedroom, dining-room and kitchen. When we bought it, it had but one large room with a shed at the back. So we set to work to make a nice place of it.