"When these you see, Fair maid, remember we; As we've remembered you, And given you your due."
"_That_ isn't what you were to say, you goose!" exclaimed Felix, wrathfully. "That isn't your speech!"
"Don't talk to me about your old set speeches, when a man can rise to an occasion like _that!_" remarked Phil, loftily, straightening up and throwing back the lapels of his coat with a great air. "_Poetry!_--d'ye mind that, Mr. Wegge? The genuine article, and at a moment's notice! At last I've struck my vocation."
Of course we laughed uproariously; we were in the mood for it, and would have laughed if some one had held up a finger at us.
Felix then made his speech, expressing our love and wishes for many, many (I believe there were six manys) happy returns of Nora's birthday, and he began to hand her her presents, reading out the inscription on each as he did so, she opening them. The first was "Nora, with love and birthday wishes from Max," and when the wrapper was off, it proved to be a lovely print of Von Bodenhauser's Madonna. Max had given Nannie a picture on her birthday, and Nora was delighted to get one as well. Next came smaller gifts from Helen Vassah, Jack, Felix, and Nannie, and then Felix fished up a large, rather bulky parcel, the inscription on which he read very distinctly: "Dearest Nora, with love from the 'Twinsies,'"--that's the name we give to Felix and Nannie to distinguish them from the younger twins.
"Why!" exclaimed Nora, in surprise, as she took the parcel on her lap, "you have both already given me something, you dear, generous creatures; I'm afraid you've been extravagant. And so nicely done up, too; thank you, thank you very much!" and she kissed them warmly.
"Oh, that's all right; don't speak of it," said Felix, modestly, while Nannie began wonderingly, "Why, I didn't--"
"Ought to be something very fine," hastily interrupted Phil, "_four_ wrappers!" The next minute there was a shout of laughter from us all as, after carefully unfolding the last paper, Nora drew out nurse's work-basket, piled high with innumerable pairs of our stockings and socks which were waiting to be darned!
I expected Nora would have been provoked, but she only laughed as heartily as the rest of us. It was a fortunate thing she was in such a good humour, for three more times the boys played that joke on her before the basket was emptied. One was her own choicest cup and saucer, "with love from papa;" the next, the drawing-room feather-duster, "a token of appreciation from the family,"--Nora _hates_ to dust! and the third, an unfinished sketch which she began months ago, and which was for Phil when completed; this was "from her affectionate brother, Philip." And they were so cleverly sandwiched in between the real birthday gifts that Nora got caught each time, to our great enjoyment.