"You mean his wife and children," said Mother.
"Yes," said Phyllis; "it's the same thing, isn't it?"
"And we thought we'd make a nice birthday for him. He's been so awfully jolly decent to us, you know, Mother," said Peter, "and we agreed that next bun-day we'd ask you if we could."
"But suppose there hadn't been a bun-day before the fifteenth?" said Mother.
"Oh, then, we meant to ask you to let us anti—antipate it, and go without when the bun-day came."
"Anticipate," said Mother, "I see. Certainly, it would be nice to put his name on the buns with pink sugar, wouldn't it?"
"Perks," said Peter; "it's not a pretty name."
"His other name's Albert," said Phyllis; "I asked him once."
"We might put A. P.," said Mother; "I'll show you how when the day comes."
This was all very well as far as it went. But even fourteen halfpenny buns with A. P. on them in pink sugar do not of themselves make a very grand celebration.
"There are always flowers, of course," said Bobbie, later, when a really earnest council was
