Thus far he had not gleaned an inkling. There had been times when in spite of his father's and mother's precautions to surprise him he had had suspicions; and occasionally such suspicions had proved to be right. His radio set, for example--he had been pretty sure it was coming, and on May twentieth there it was! And then there had been instances when measurements had to be taken or the size of his shoes considered, and these inevitable hints had given away beforehand the plots his parents were hatching. But this year dense mystery hung like a curtain over the great day. There was not even a mention made of it. No casual remarks were dropped to trap him into telling what he wanted. Indeed, so dumb was every one concerning the festival that he actually began to fear the date had been forgotten. Of course a great deal of money had already been spent on his eyes; he realized that. He had been to the oculist almost every week for treatment. He knew he should be grateful for all this and he was. But despite what it had cost, one could hardly consider it a present. Still, as the days went by and there appeared to be no prospect of anything else in the wind, he began to believe his parents regarded it as one. Grown-ups looked at things from such a different angle! No doubt they felt they had spent upon him all they felt justified in spending. This realization at first brought to the lad a sense of disappointment. There were so many things he wanted! Why, although he would have blushed to admit it, there was lying in his pocket this very minute a list of gifts carefully written out in case his father or mother asked for suggestions as they often had done in the past. But they did not inquire for it. May eighteenth and May nineteenth slipped by without an allusion to the fact that on May twentieth he had been born, and so oblivious was everybody to his existence that had he not looked in the glass and verified it, he would almost have begun to doubt he was alive himself. When at length the great day dawned, he descended to breakfast with that mingled anticipation and self-consciousness that always overwhelmed him on such occasions. He was wont to feel very foolish and vividly aware of his hands and feet when he made his annual advent into the dining room. As it happened, however, he need have experienced no embarrassment to-day for the fact that fourteen years ago he had entered into this vale of tears was not mentioned. True, his mother did kiss him a trifle more warmly than usual, and an additional salutation, which she instantly repressed, seemed trembling on her tongue. But there was nothing else out of the ordinary.