ning-room to interest them.

"Gee, it is chocolate," whispered Twaddles shrilly, as the plates of
ice-cream followed the sandwiches.

The cake was white with eight pink candles, and if anything looks
prettier or tastes better than chocolate ice-cream and white cake, do
tell me what it is.

"Now we can fish," remarked Marion, as they left the table.

Back of the wide deep sofa in the parlor, Marion's mother had fixed a
"fish pond," and now she gave each guest a rod and line with a hook at
the end, and told them all to try their luck.

Twaddles fished first. His hook mysteriously caught something right
away, and he drew up a tissue paper parcel that proved to contain a
little glass jar of candy sticks. Twaddles liked them very much.

Meg caught a pretty silk handkerchief, and Dot found a soap bubble set
on the end of her line. Bobby's catch was a box of water-color paints.

After every child had fished and caught something, it was five o'clock
and the party was over. They said good-by to Marion and her mother,
and told them they had had the nicest time, which was certainly true.

"My, but isn't it cold!" exclaimed Mrs. Green, as she held open the
door for a group of the party guests to go out. "We'll have skating
next week if this weather keeps up."

The four little Blossoms hurried home, for the cold nipped their noses
and the tips of Meg's fingers in her spandy new kid gloves.

"I like a party," said Dot suddenly, running to keep up with Bobby,
"where you get presents, too."

Father Blossom opened the door for them, and they were glad to see the
fire blazing cheerily in the living-room.

"Well, well, how did the party go?" asked Father, pulling off Meg's
gloves for her, and drawing her into his lap. "Presents, too? Why,
Twaddles, I thought this was Marion's birthday."

Twaddles unscrewed the top of his candy jar and offered Father Blossom
a green-colored stick.

"We took Marion a present," he explained serenely. "But I guess her
mother thought it wasn't fair for her to get 'em all. Everybody fished
for something, Daddy."

CHAPTER VIII

DOWN ON THE POND

"A penny for your thoughts, Daughter," said Father Blossom presently.

Meg's lip quivered.

"I want my locket!" she sobbed, hiding her face against her father's
shoulder. "All the girls have lockets and mine was nicer than any of
them."

"Yes, it was," agreed Dot judicially, from her seat on the rug before
the fire. "It had such