seek.

"Hide 'oo eyes and count," said Kathleen, junior, in a compelling voice.

"But Daddy wants to read," expostulated Mother, in a tone of entreaty.

"Daddy mustn't read to-day. It's Denny's birfday. Daddies don't read on
their little boys' birfdays, does they, Denny?"

"No," replied Denny, in a voice of conviction.

"What do Daddies do under such circumstances?" asked Denis, senior, in
an amused tone of voice.

"What their little girls wants them to do, doesn't them, Denny?"

"'Es," answered Denny, seeing no reason to controvert this reasoning.

"But it's not your birthday, Kath," suggested Mother.

"It's Denny's, and Denny gave it to me, 'cos I told him I wouldn't kiss
him if he didn't."

Here the peculiar injustice of this proceeding suddenly struck Denny,
and he began to cry, not in a quiet and subdued manner, as a respectable
boy would, but in a stentorian roar.

It was at this moment that Molly Healy came up the avenue, and she
rushed at and snatched Denny up in her arms.

"Were they cruel to my boy on his birthday? Never mind. Molly's brought
you something nice," she cried.

"Now, be under no misapprehensions, Miss Molly Healy. Neither Kathleen
nor I have done anything to deserve that scornful look. If you must
scold anyone, there is the culprit. Kath. has swindled Denny out of his
birthday."

Kath. had noted the result of Denny's roaring, and she argued that
similar conduct on her part would meet with similar treatment.
Therefore, she took up the strain of loud weeping, from which Molly had
interrupted her brother.

"Something for you, too, Kath.," cried the kind-hearted and impulsive
Molly, handing Kath. a parcel similar to that which the boy was hugging
in his arms. Straightway Kath. ceased from tears, and consented, when
Nurse appeared, to accompany her indoors and there investigate the
contents.

"I've done it at last!" said Molly, when she had ceased from bestowing
kisses on the children, greatly to Nurse's indignation, and had
permitted them to be led away.

"You don't mean to tell me!" cried Kathleen, springing up impulsively
and kissing Molly.

"Done what? Murder, suicide, or the Confiding Public?" asked Denis.

"Oh! you old stupid. You never understand," cried Kathleen.

"I claim to understand the English language when it is openly expressed.
But I lay no claim to a knowledge of female wireless telegraphy. Miss
Molly tells you, in the tone of one who confesses a crime, that s