g more!" And going to his bureau he brought out a square box
wrapped in white paper. "Spud, he gifes me a big cake,--now I gif him
somethings, yes!" And he handed the box over.

"What's this, another joke?" demanded the other student suspiciously.

"Do you think I play a joke?" asked Max, with a hurt look.

"All right then," said Spud, and proceeded to undo the string around the
box. Then he took off the paper and opened the box.

What a shout went up! For the box was filled with potatoes--plain white
and sweet! There were about a quart of them, mixed.

"Oh, what a sell!" murmured Spud. "I knew you'd do something like this!"
he added, grinning sheepishly.

"Better pass 'em around," suggested Tom.

"All right, have one raw!" returned Spud.

"Hi! ton't gif dem avay so kvick!" cried Max, getting excited and
talking more brokenly than usual. "Besser examine dem first."

"Examine 'em?" murmured Spud. "Oh, I see!" he added, and took up one of
the potatoes. "Why, it isn't a potato at all!" he exclaimed as the
article came apart. "It's only a shell, and it's filled with candy!"

"Chocolate drops!" murmured Sam. "Yum! yum!"

"There are salted almonds in this one," went on Spud, opening an
imitation of a sweet potato. "And here are stuffed dates, and this had
raisins in it--and here are soft gum drops! Say, Max, this is certainly
great! How did you happen to think of it?" And Spud looked tremendously
pleased.

"Oh, I know you lof potatoes," answered the German-American youth,
innocently.

The candy was placed on one of the wooden plates, and the almonds and
raisins on another, and then the good things were passed around.

"I'll keep these as souvenirs of the occasion," said Spud, indicating
the imitation potatoes.

"How about it, Songbird, can't you rise to the occasion?" asked Dick,
who had noticed that the student-poet had been unusually quiet while
eating his cake and ice-cream.

"I have--er--just composed a little poem in honor of Max's birthday,"
answered Songbird. "If you'd like me to recite----"

"Sure thing!"

"Turn on the poetry spigot, Songbird, and let her flow!"

"This is not yet finished. But,--but----"

"Give us what you have," said Spud, and clearing his throat several
times, Songbird began.

"Once more a year has rolled around--
As years have rolled before--
Once more we greet our loving friend--
A true friend to the core!
We hope th