“Oh, don’t work this afternoon,” Hazel cried jumping up and down. “Play with me, won’t you please play with me? I do want you to play with me, Granny, just one day.” And before four o’clock Hazel had her way and the two were sitting in their best gowns. “Much like fools,” Granny said. “I’ll be back in a moment,” Hazel cried suddenly, and ran from the cabin door down the road. Granny waited a minute or two and then went to the porch to look out. Coming up the road was a little procession led by Hazel, with Scipio in the rear; between were three little girls and two little boys. They all marched solemnly to the porch where Granny stood. “Now,” commanded Hazel, and the children sang: “Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, Aunt Ellen, Happy birthday to you.” Granny looked the children over; but she did not ask them in. “It’s your birthday, Granny,” Hazel said, her voice shaking with excitement. “I chose to-day for your birthday.” The old woman glanced at Hazel without smiling and held herself very erect. She felt that they were making game of her. “It’s a pretend party,” Hazel tried to explain; but as she looked into Granny’s eyes she suddenly wanted to cry. The little children stood quietly, waiting to be told what to do next. Then Scipio stepped forward. “Aunt Ellen,” he said in his slow way, “it’s like this; you’s been kind to we-all here. There’s many of us as you’s helped into the world like you did Mrs. Brown’s baby yesterday. We wants to do something for you, so we’s just come and we’s brought you some flowers.” The five waiting children looked at Hazel. She nodded, and they stepped forward and each gave a bouquet to Granny. The old woman’s face softened as Scipio spoke, and now she smiled kindly and asked the children in. As they entered she noticed that each one was decked out a little, and she glanced at her own dress and then at Hazel’s. “She’s a smart one,” she thought. “May we play a game, Granny?” Hazel asked hesitatingly. Scipio had seemingly saved the day, but she must make no further mistakes. “Yes, child.” “Then you sit here by the hearth, Granny, and Scip with you, and we’ll act a charade.” She took the children out on the porch and presently they came in, each on hands and feet, and meowed with persistence if not with fervor. “That’s meant to be a word, Granny and Scip, can you guess what it is?” “Cats,” said Granny. “That’s right,” Hazel cried, clapping her hands. “_Cat._ You guessed right the first time, didn’t you? Now we act the next word.” She skipped out of the room with the children onto the porch. She was beginning to feel like herself. Granny smoothed her dress complacently.