hday--AND
MINE!' I did not put the words close together, because that made it
seem too bold but I first thought, 'Christ's birthday,' and then, in a
minute, softly to myself--AND MINE!' 'Christ's birthday--AND MINE!'
And so I do not quite feel about Christmas as other girls do. Mama
says she supposes that ever so many other children have been born on
that day. I often wonder where they are, Uncle Jack, and whether it is
a dear thought to them, too, or whether I am so much in bed, and so
often alone, that it means more to me. Oh, I do hope that none of them
are poor, or cold, or hungry; and I wish, I wish they were all as happy
as I, because they are my little brothers and sisters. Now, Uncle
Jack, dear, I am going to try and make somebody happy every single
Christmas that I live, and this year it is to be the 'Ruggleses in the
rear.'"

"That large and interesting brood of children in the little house at
the end of the back garden?"

"Yes; isn't it nice to see so many together? We ought to call them the
Ruggles children, of course; but Donald began talking of them as the
'Ruggleses in the rear,' and Papa and Mama took it up, and now we
cannot seem to help it. The house was built for Mr. Carter's coachman,
but Mr. Carter lives in Europe, and the gentleman who rents his place
doesn't care what happens to it, and so this poor Irish family came to
live there. When they first moved in, I used to sit in my window and
watch them play in their backyard; they are so strong, and jolly, and
good-natured; and then, one day, I had a terrible headache, and Donald
asked them if they would please not scream quite so loud, and they
explained that they were having a game of circus, but that they would
change and play 'Deaf and Dumb School' all the afternoon."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Uncle Jack, "what an obliging family, to be sure."

"Yes, we all thought it very funny, and I smiled at them from the
window when I was well enough to be up again. Now, Sarah Maud comes to
her door when the children come home from school, and if Mama nods her
head, 'Yes,' that means 'Carol is very well,' and then you ought to
hear the little Ruggleses yell--I believe they try to see how much
noise they can make; but if Mama shakes her head, 'No,' they always
play at quiet games. Then, one day, 'Cary,' my pet canary, flew out of
her cage, and Peter Ruggles caught her and brought her back, and I had
him up here in my room to thank him."

"Is Pete