HER BIRTHDAY

7" are still on the rosy side of the
apple; but this is the last Saturday
in September, and we cannot expect many
more golden days between this and the cry
of the cuckoo. But what a summer we have
had, thanks to one of W. V.’s ingenious sug-
gestions! She came to us in April, when
the world is still a trifle bare and the wind
somewhat too bleak for any one to get com-
fortably lost in the Forest or cast up on a
coral reef; so we have made her birthday
a movable feast, and whenever a fine free
Saturday comes round we devote it to
thankfulness that she has been born, and
to the joy of our both being alive together.
W. V. sleeps in an eastern room, and
accordingly the sun rises on that side of the
house. Under the eaves and just above her

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