MY BIRTHDAY PARTY.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2556, 17 July 1909, Page 4 (Supplement)

MY BIRTHDAY PARTY.

(From the Sydney “Morning Herald.”) Yesterday I had a birthday, and a birthday party. Perhaps none of my visitors are on your calling list, and I don’t think you will find any. description of their dresses in the social column; but all the same they are. well worth knowing, and no fine lady in the land is more elegantly gowned.. The first visitor came before I was up^ —I’m afraid these friends of mine are not very fashionable —and while I was ly- . ing half-awake on my verandah bed I heard a cheery voice at my ear, and there was a .Jacky Winter sitting on the rail dressed in his very neatest grey coat and cream vest. “You’re rather early',” said I, “and the party hasn’t begun yet.” He wasn’t the least disconcerted, but just flicked his white-edged tail, cocked his head on one side, and called in his friendliest voice, “Get-up, get-up, get-up. ” “Noy it’s too early, and the "rass is all wet, and the ground is cold, and the breakfast won’t be ready for ever so long, and I’m very cosy and comfy here, thank you, and here I’m going to stay for another half-hour,” said I, and straightway turned my back on him and bugged the blankets closer. He wasn’t the least offended, but called again, “get-up, get-up, get-up,” and there was something in his tone that seemed to suggest that he had been up for hours, and that so had all right-minded beings. And then, as if to support him, just at that moment the second visitor arrived, and a spinebill came flying into the garden in hot haste, calling, “Hurry-up, hurry-up, quick, quick, quick!” He, too, seemed to think it was quite late to be beginning a party, and was more insistent even than the Jacky that I should hurry up. .“There’s evidently to be no peace for me this morning,” said I to myself, but loud enough for them to hear me ; and so I took their advice and got up. Apparently the two gossips went round and spread the news that, I was really up, for when I came out on to the verandah again there was quite a crowd of visitors waiting to wish me “many happy returns.” A wagtail greeted me with the embarrassing remark that I was a “sweet, pretty creature,”. and a pee-wee shouted loudly his opinion, “You-are, you-are.” “ Dear me,” said I, “this is quite overwhelming,” and I ran inside to breakfast, leaving them all behind. Incidentally I looked in the glass as- I passed, and — But never mind that. Although I had treated them with such scant ceremony my visitors were not in the least offended; while I ate my eggs and toast they enjoyed a second breakfast among the bouvardias and in the gum leaves. And when after breakfast I took my book and cushion out on to the grass which pretends it’s a lawn —I never -do any work on my birthday—the. reception really began. - All the morning I sat out in the warm sun and welcomed my visitors as they came and went. The gum saplings near the fence were really the reception room, for here most of them came and called their good wishes to me. Amongst the earliest arrivals were the cliickups, and though "they were very hearty in their greeting I did’nt think it quite good taste for them to call so loudly, “She’s-up, she’s-up, she’s-up,” as if it were something quite unusual. The little tits, too, were not very polite, for they kept ion flying in and out, expressing their surprise. “Tsz-Tsz!” they say fussily, like a great-aunt who has just heard something amazing. The silver-eyes were much nicer ; they simply sang the sweetest song without words, and I could fit any meaning 1 liked to it. And the blue-wrens were dears, too; they didn’t stay in the saplings, but hopped right across the grass to me with a real gush of welcome. Then a shrike-tit came, dressed in his party clothes, and though he didn’t say much his bright yellow vest and black and white striped head lent l quite an air to- the scene. The thrushes and the butcher-birds came up from the valley and stayed a little while in the. saplings to sing a birthday song, and

a razor-grinder stopped a few moments on the fence, and, instead of his usual harsh scold, uttered a few soft, tender notes. He couldn’t scold mo on my birthday, for no one must be cross then. As I sat lazily enjoying my party and the dancing sunbeams and the little white clouds sailing over the blue sky it seemed more like summer than mid-winter. I was just thinking so when by flitted a tiny black butterfly, the. white edges of his wings gleaming vividly in the sun. I sat quite still and ■watched, him, and he came close to my face and then settled for a moment on the cushion at my cheek. Just for a second he stayed, as if to say, “See, here I have waited till the summer is past to wish you joy;” then off lie went across the grass, beyond the fence, and away. Very soon afterwards came, another tiny visitor to my party. A bee flew from the next door garden straight across the lawn and settled himself on my skirt. There doesn’t seem much sweotness in a blue serge skirt, but this bee seemed to like it, for there he stayed ever so long, washing this face and smoothing his hair and generally enjoying himself, and it was only when at last I moved that lie flew off lazily. I was sorry to disturb him, but I burned to look up at two ravens flying overhead. They were too shy to come, to the party really, but they passed very slowly, and I could hear the “swish, swish, swish” of their wings quite plainly as they went across the sky. They were almost out of sight before they greeted me. with “more, more,” and I knew that was their awkward way of wishing me many more happy days. Just when I thought no more guests were coining, up flew a kookaburra and settled himself down on the telegraph post outside the fence. He looked at me very solemnly. for a. while, and flicked liis absurd little tail; then suddenly he hurst out laughing. “Ha, ha, ha 1” he said, “birthdays are great fun, aren’t they P But wait till you’ve had as many as I havethen you may not enjoy them so much - . Ha, ha, ha!” “Horrid old cynic,” said I. “Of course I’ll always enjoy them as long as there are birds and bees and butterflies to come and see me.” But all the same his sarcastic remarks had rather spoilt the party, and I was not sorry that at that moment the lunch bell rang, and the reception was over.