"Well, we tried," said Polly, stilling a sigh; "now, boys, call
marnsie; everything's ready."

Oh! how surprised their mother appeared when she was ushered
out to the feast, and the full glory of the table burst upon her. Her
delight in the cake was fully enough to satisfy the most exacting
mind. She admired and admired it on every side, protesting that
she shouldn't have supposed Polly could possibly have baked it as
good in the old stove; and then she cut it, and gave a piece to every
child, with a little posy on top. Wasn't it good, though! for like
many other things, the cake proved better on trial than it looked,
and so turned out to be really quite a good surprise all around.

"Why can't I ever have a birthday?" asked Joel, finishing the last
crumb of his piece; "I should think I might," he added, reflectively.

"Why, you have, Joe," said Ben; "eight of 'em."

"What a story!" ejaculated Joel; "when did I have 'em? I never had
a cake; did I, Polly?"

"Not a cake-birthday, Joel," said his mother; "you haven't got to
that yet."

"When's it coming?" asked Joel, who was decidedly of a
matter-of-fact turn of mind.

"I don't know," said Mrs. Pepper, laughing; "but there's plenty of
time ahead."