In due time, the measles turned and went their way wandering off around after other children, one generation and then another. Lily's cat lived out her nine lives and then turned into sage and catnip in the back garden. And now, after a long, long while, Davie and Lily have a birthday. Not the next one, nor the second, nor the third, nor, if the truth must be told, the fiftieth. But a birthday that came running to meet them with glasses on and a flourishing of the almond-tree. This time the twins' birthday is not kept in the gray old mansion, with the shop below and the garden behind, where Aunt Ann rattled her keys and lived out her bustling life. Nor does Aunt Ann come to help keep it. Her hands have long been folded in quiet rest; and it is years, too, since Mary and Celestia went where the shining is brighter than the sunlight and softer than the moon. But the twins are not alone. Bless you! I should think not! First, here is Amy Starbird, with a pair of pictures she has painted from the very paint-box Davie gave her on her own last birthday. And here is Amy's daughter Rose, with twin marble babies tucked up in a marble crib on top of a marble match box; and Rose, all this time, is Davie's daughter as well as Amy's. And here is a bright bevy of boys and girls, some of them with Lily's blue eyes and Lily's fair hair, each bringing some double gift for their mother and Uncle Davie. There are pairs of wristings and pairs of neckties, books in two volumes, and double-frosted cakes; there is a pair of china slippers with a pair of babies on the toes; there is a crystal vase held up by two crystal swans, and a vase of silver in the form of a chariot drawn by two doves; for everything must be in pairs for the birthday of the twins. Then, last of all, Davie gave to Lily a covered box, and when she opened it she saw within an exquisitely embroidered velvet pen-wiper, with a beautiful tortoise-shell cat lying upon it, and, playfully jumping over her back, were two of the most charming tortoise-shell kittens ever seen. The mother-cat had around her neck a blue ribbon, and on the ribbon was written these words,-- "Here is your cat, Lily,--after fifty years." FRANCES LEE. [Illustration: decoration] WILLIAM NICHOLSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, WAKEFIELD. VICTORIA SERIES. "These volumes afford excellent reading for young persons. They are very well printed and tastefully bound."--Bookseller. NEW JUVENILE BOOKS. SQUARE 16mo. HANDSOMELY BOUND. 1s. EACH.