"Morning, mamma and papa. It's my birthday; and I'm six years old,--six, six years old! One, two, three, four, five, six years old! Susan told them all to me, and Susan said she guessed papa didn't forgotten it. She didn't forgotten it; and see!" The child held up a gay horn of sugar-plums fluttering with ribbons, and then, hugging it to her breast with one hand, plunged the other in, and offered a little fistful of the comfits, first to her father, and then to her mother. Both smilingly declined the treat, explaining that they had but just done breakfast: and the young lady, dropping some back into the horn, thrust the rest into her own mouth, saying, "So has I; but I like candy all the day." "Come here, you little Sunshine," said Mr. Legrange, drawing her toward him. "So Susie thought I hadn't forgotten your birthday, eh? Well, do you know what they always do to people on their birthdays?" "Give 'em presents," replied the child promptly, as she desperately swallowed the mouthful of candy. "Ho, ho! that's it is it? No; but, besides that, they always pull their ears as many times as they are years old. Now, then, don't you wish I had forgotten it?" Sunshine's eyes grew a little larger, and travelled swiftly toward her mother's face, coming back to her father's with a smile. "I don't believe you'd hurt me much, papa," said she, nestling close to his side. The father folded her tightly in his arms, lifting her to a seat upon his knee. "I don't believe I would, little Sunshine. Well, then, sometimes, instead of pinches, they give little girls as many kisses as they are years old. How will that do?" The rosy mouth, gathering for a kiss, answered without words; but Mr. Legrange, taking the dimpled face between his hands, said,-- "No, no! we must go on deliberately. One for the forehead, two for the eyes,--that makes three; one for each cheek makes five; and now the last and best for the lips makes six. Next year, there will be another for the chin, and, after that, one in each ear: won't that be nice?" "And mamma? Hasn't Sunshine any kisses for her this morning?" asked Mrs. Legrange. The child slid from her father's knee to the floor, and, with her arms round her mother's neck, whispered,-- "I'll give mamma all these kisses papa just gave me, and some more too." And for a minute or two it would have been hard to say to which head the showery golden curls belonged, or which pair of lips was the kisser's, and which the kissed; while the Sun fairly danced with delight as he wrapped the two in a beautiful golden mantle woven of his choicest beams. Mr. Legrange looked on, laughing, for a moment, and then said,-- "So Susan told you people get presents on their birthdays, did she, 'Toinette?" "Yes, papa;" and the child, half turning from her mother, but still clinging round her neck, looked at her father roguishly. "And I guess you knew it before, and didn't forgotten about it, did you, papa?" asked she.