“Andromeda’s, the same year that the Sailor’s Star was stolen; and Orion gave the party. You remember the young meteors that he had planted were just coming up in his garden when Cassiopeia came to tell him what a misfortune had happened? All those same young plants had kept on growing and growing, unusually well, and Orion was as proud of them as a comet with two tails. They promised to be ripe just in time for Andromeda’s birthday, and he said he would like to give the party.” “To eat them?” asked Pat. “Never!” said the Princess. “I thought you knew about meteors: when they are exactly ripe you give them a bit of a pinch. Pop! goes a beautiful starlet with a trail of gold-dust behind it.” “Fireworks,” said the Kitten. “That’s the way a balsam seed pops,” said Phyllisy. “Yes, it reminds me of it,” agreed the Princess. “When they are ripe one has to be very careful not to hit them, or they go off too soon. Orion wouldn’t even pick off a leaf or pull up a weed, he was being so careful to save every one for the birthday celebration; and how he did have to watch the dogs, to keep them out! “The night before, it was partly cloudy, and Orion almost drove Cassiopeia wild, dodging about behind the drifting clouds, making his last arrangements. Little Bear, too. It seemed as if he were possessed, he who was always so quiet and steady—‘The best Little Bear that ever happened!’ Andromeda used to say, when she gave him a bear-hug, and then rubbed his soft fur the wrong way, from his tail clear down his nose, to feel the tingles and see the sparks fly. But no sooner had they begun to talk about her birthday than he began to be excited; and this last night it seemed as if he could not keep still. Whenever a cloud lay so that he could, he would go clear to the edge of it to watch Orion. Once, Cassiopeia could scarcely believe her eyes: there was Orion, talking to Lady Moon behind the clouds; then she saw Little Bear crowding in between them, looking up at them eagerly. Orion was too much engrossed to notice him, but Cassiopeia called at the top of her voice (and it was a very high top), ‘Come here _this minute_, Little Bear! I should think you were crazy!’ “He heard her, and came prancing back, zigzag, as fast as he could dodge from cloud to cloud. When he was back in his place, barely in the nick of time, his eyes almost twinkled out of his head, and his fur shone so that Cassiopeia could hardly see his stars. She couldn’t help laughing, though she was annoyed. It was bad enough for Orion to dodge around like that; but his legs were so long he could get back to his place always before the clouds floated off. “The next night no one could have asked for better star-weather, just plain clouds, not a jumpy kind to keep them wondering every half-hour what it was going to do. “A little before midnight the Star People began to come to the party. Orion was the first to arrive, then Hercules and Draco.” “Not Little Bear?” asked the Kitten.