according to her usual fashion, was prancing about the room on one
foot; while Stella sat demurely in a chair, her hands quietly
folded in her lap, though her eyes seemed to make the same
inquiry.

"No, not yet," answered Uncle Steve for his niece, "but I think
it's about time for us to see if we can find it."

"All right," cried Marjorie, "let's all go to the orchard!"

"I don't see, Midget," said her uncle, "why you think the surprise
is down at the orchard, just because I told you I was making it
down there. In fact I have my birthday gift for you right here in
my pocket."

Marjorie looked rather blank. She knew Uncle Steve loved to tease
her, but she had certainly expected some out-of-door gift, and to
receive a little trinket that could be carried in a pocket was a
surprise indeed.

In proof of his words Uncle Steve drew a neatly-tied parcel from a
pocket of his morning coat and handed it to Marjorie. It was about
the size of a one-pound box of candy, and sure enough, when
Marjorie eagerly pulled off the paper, the gilt letters on the
cover proclaimed it a candy-box. Marjorie felt positive that her
uncle would not offer her candy as a birthday gift, for he often
brought her that on any ordinary day of the year. But she was
mystified, and she took off the cover, not knowing herself what
she expected to see. To her surprise, inside the box was another
parcel, a trifle smaller, and on the paper which wrapped it was