Page:St. Nicholas, vol. 40.1 (1912-1913).djvu/592



“ meeting will please come to order,” cried Helen Gordon, pounding vigorously on the dinner-table with the handle of the carving knife.

The junior members of the Gordon family had taken advantage of the absence of their parents from the dinner-table that night, and had called a council. They were now “in solemn meeting assembled’’— Helen, who had but recently returned from college; Hilda, still in the short-skirt-and-pigtails stage of her existence; Robert, who already occupied a position in his father’s office, and Ted, fully imbued with the importance and responsibilities of a junior in high school.

“Ladies—or shall I say lady?—and gentlemen,” continued Helen, with mock dignity, “we are assembled here to-night to discuss a question of great and lasting importance, a question which (need I remind you, lady and gentlemen?) is only to be decided after due and mature consideration—both of the subject and of our respective pocket-books. Briefly stated, the question is this: what are we to present to our dear mother—I should say to our beloved maternal ancestor—as a slight token of our affection for her and of our rejoicing over the completion of her forty-fifth year of life? Discussion of the subject is now in order.”

There was a miniature storm of applause, and then Robert, with a profound bow to the chairman, claimed the floor. “Madam Chairman, ladies and gentleman: As our great and honored chairman has just remarked” (prolonged coughing from Hilda and Ted), “the question we have under consideration is not one to be rashly decided, and yet I am bold enough to hope that the suggestion which I am about to make will meet with your unanimous approval. In view of the aforesaid maternal ancestor's well-known fondness for pretty china, permit me to suggest that we purchase a pretty new dinner set. It would serve not only as a fitting birthday remembrance, but in a certain measure as an atonement also, offered in memory of the many occasions—oh, painful memory!—when we have shattered the china idols of that loving heart.” And Robert subsided, his flowery efforts rewarded by a hearty burst of laughter and cries of “Good! good!”

“I think Rob ’s just right!” exclaimed Hilda, scrambling enthusiastically to her feet. “Let ‘s buy just the dandiest set—”

“The lady is out of order,” interrupted her elder sister with due severity. “‘Sich langwidge,’ Hilda! Am I to understand that you desire to second the motion now before the house? The motion has been made and seconded. Will all those in favor of adopting Robert's suggestion please signify their approval by raising the right hand? Contrary-minded the same. Since you are unanimously in favor of a dinner set, we will now proceed to a consideration of the problem of ways and means.”

“I ‘ll give ten,” said Robert, depositing a crisp bank-note beside his sister's place; “and suggest that we leave the selection to Helen.”

“I ’m afraid I can’t give a tenner—I just got my new base-ball suit, you know,” said Ted, ruefully.

“And I my new golf-clubs,” echoed Helen. “We ‘ll make it fifteen together, Ted. It ‘s comforting to think that we can probably count on Father for twenty-five.”

“And I'm going to give five dollars!" put in Hilda, decidedly, with special emphasis on the “dollars”; and producing a bulky pocket-book, she forthwith proceeded to empty its contents into her sister’s lap.

“You ‘ll have to go without caramels for a month, Puss, if you donate all that chicken feed,” laughed Robert, giving his sister's long braids a parting tug as he left the room, closing the door behind him just in time to escape a flying leather cushion, sent with Hilda’s unerring aim.

And so it was that Mrs. Gordon. conducted to the seat of honor at the dinner-table on the eve of her birthday anniversary, found the table resplendent with a new set of French china, whose graceful shape and dainty decoration quite justified Robert’s confidence in his older sister’s good judgment and artistic taste.

In response to repeated cries of “Speech! speech!” from Ted and Hilda, Mrs. Gordon rose from her seat, and, with a radiant smile on her flushed face, addressed her family.

“My dearest husband and children,” she began laughingly, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much pleasure you have given me this evening,