Presently two boys came in and stood across the room each holding the end of a long string. A third child, a girl with an apron on, walked solemnly forward and fastened a towel to the string with a clothes-pin. Immediately Hazel, with a dark shawl stretched out at arms-length to look like wings, hopped up and nipped off the nose of the maid, who gave a very creditable sob. “Along came a black-bird and nipped off her nose,” the two boys said. “That’s a little word,” explained Hazel, “and if you put it with cat it makes a longer word.” Granny and Scip listened in silence; a charade seemed outside their mental horizon. But Hazel and her troupe acted the whole word with studied care, and five little cats rolled about ecstatically in the green stuff Hazel threw to them. “I knows it, Hazel,” Scipio cried suddenly. “It’s _Catnip_. You make it like you learn me words.” Hazel beamed at him. He had pleased his little teacher to-day more than he could ever have hoped to please her in all his life. This might be Granny’s pretend birthday, but it was a real day of triumph for Hazel’s pretend brother. “And now, Granny,” Hazel said, still a little tremulously, “would you go on the porch with the children for just a few minutes and shut the door and leave Scipio and me here?” Granny went willingly enough. She was beginning to enter into the spirit of the game. “Darken the room as much as you can, Scip. Well put it in the middle of the table, and the candles on it and around it, and the flowers about them. We must light them, quickly, quickly. Oh, Scip, Scip, see! It’s the beautifulest kind of a birthday cake when you have seventy candles.” “Let her come in right now,” Scipio said. Granny with the children entered the room. On the table was a big white cake. Candles were in it and candles were around it, two rows deep. Each little flame twinkled as it rose from the bright-colored wax. It was a lovely sight. “What you done do, sugar?” Granny gasped. “It’s a birthday cake for you, Granny. I wanted you so to have a birthday cake. I’ve had five that I can remember, but they’re prettiest when you’re seventy. I wanted you so to have a birthday that I chose one for you; and April is a nice time, don’t you think? You do like it, don’t you, Granny?” and Hazel ran to her grandmother’s side. “Baby,” Granny said holding her tight. “It’s the most beautiful thing as ever was. It’s the prettiest sight these eyes has ever seen. Scip,” she called suddenly, “don’t you let those candles burn down. Everybody’s got to see my cake.” “And now, Granny,” Hazel said when the candles were blown out, “you must cut the cake for the children.” “Cut the cake for them tricks,” Granny cried excitedly. “No, indeed. The children can have corn-pone. Everybody has got to see my birthday cake. Where did you buy it, honey?” “I made it,” Hazel answered, and that completed Granny’s amazement and Hazel’s happiness.