white
room, with a frieze of children playing in the ocean spray; shelves of
bright-colored books on the walls, and the months of a large calendar by
Elizabeth Shippen Green framed underneath. There is a deep bow-window at
the back; the principal door is at the Left, and a smaller one on the
Right. Toys of all sizes, for all ages, are scattered about with a
holiday air. There is a sofa on the Right and a hobby horse on the
Left._

_There are four charming though somewhat spoiled children, with
intermittent manners, with napkins tied up under their chins, sitting
around the table, which is a little to the right of the centre of the
room._

_The_ FOOTMAN _is busy removing the plates; the butler,_ MOLES, _who
stands behind_ PHILIP, _always takes_ PHILIP'S _plate. It is_ PHILIP'S
_birthday._ LIZZIE _stands behind_ ELAINE. _In the centre of the table
is a large cake with seven candles burning on it._

PHILIP. What comes next?

CHRISTOPHER. Soup!

[LIZZIE _and_ MOLES _suppress smiles, exchanging looks of delighted
appreciation of_ CHRISTOPHER'S _humor._

TOOTS. Ice cream!

ELAINE. Don't be absurd, Christopher, we've _had_ soup.

CHRISTOPHER. I like it!

TOOTS. I like ice cream!

ELAINE. [_To_ TOOTS.] Sh!

PHILIP. What comes next, Moles?

MOLES. I don't know, sir.

[_He goes out._

ELAINE. T'ain't manners to ask, anyway, Phil.

PHILIP. Who cares! It's my birthday!

CHRISTOPHER. When will it be my birthday?

[_The_ FOOTMAN _reenters with plates, followed by_ MOLES, _with silver
dish of croquettes._

PHILIP. Here it comes; what is it?

MOLES. Chicken croquettes, sir.

PHILIP. Left overs! Had chicken yesterday! Bring 'em here first!

MOLES. No, ladies first, sir.

[_Serves_ ELAINE.

LIZZIE. And besides, Miss Elaine is company.

[MOLES _serves_ CHRISTOPHER.

PHILIP. That's all right. S'long it's Elaine, everything goes!

ELAINE. Phil!

[_Sliding down from her chair, she runs to him and kisses him._

PHILIP. [_Hopelessly embarrassed._] Don't! not in front of everybody!

ELAINE. But I do love you, Phil, and you're my beau, and I'm so glad
it's your birthday.

[_Goes back to her place unashamed and contented._

[MOLES _serves_ PHILIP.

LIZZIE. You oughtn't to talk about beaux at your age, Miss--ought Miss
Elaine?

[_To_ MOLES _with a knowing glance._

MOLES. I ain't discussing the sex with you, Lizzie, but I will say all
the girls I've known, began talking about beaux early and ended