and witches' caps as if the pixies themselves had decorated it. On
Washington's birthday each branch was tipped with a flag and a cherry
tart. On the fourteenth of February it was hung with valentines, and at
Easter she was always sure of finding a candy rabbit or two perched among
its branches and nests of colored eggs. It seemed to be at its best at
Christmas, but it was when it took its turns at birthday celebrations
that it was most wonderful. Then it blossomed with little glass lanterns
of every color, glowing like red and green and golden stars. Last year it
had borne a great toy ship with all sails set, and nine "surprise"
oranges, round, yellow boxes, each containing a gift, because she was
nine years old. In just two more days she would be ten, and Barby gone!

At that instant the boat whistle sounded long and deep, sending its
melodious boom across the water. It seemed to strike some chord in the
very center of her being, and make her feel as if something inside were
sinking down and down and down. The sensation was sickening. It grew
worse as the boat steamed away. She stood up on a limb to watch it.
Smaller and smaller it seemed, leaving only a long plume of smoke in its
wake as it disappeared around Long Point. Then even the smoke faded, and
a forlorn little figure, strangely at variance with the fierce pirate
suit, she crumpled up in the crotch of the willow, her face hidden in her
elbow, and began to sob piteously: "Oh, Barby! Barby!"




Chapter IX

The Birthday Prism