s nothing excellent and rare in my limited but
not wholly featureless cellar which my four brave boys did not have an
opportunity to sample in honor of Josephine's and my twenty-fifth
anniversary.

Just after the cigars were finished there was a ring at the front
door-bell, and Sam Bangs came into the dining-room, rather to my
astonishment, for I knew that he had not been invited. "How d'y do,
Cousin Josephine; how d'y do, Cousin Fred. Many happy returns of the
day."

I observed that Sam spoke with a sort of mysterious blitheness, as
though he was under the influence of a joke, and I noticed that he
whispered something to my daughter Josie in answer to an inquiring
glance from her. Just then there was another ring at the door-bell,
and presently through the half-open dining-room doors I caught sight of
a host of people gayly trooping into the front hall.

"The Philistines are upon thee, Samson," exclaimed Sam Bangs, as I
started to rise in my astonishment. "Cousin Fred and Cousin Josephine,
a select party of your friends have taken the liberty of celebrating
your silver wedding, and are on the way to the drawing-room, where you
are requested to join them."

I was too dazed to speak; indeed, I was conscious of a lump in my
throat quite inconsistent with a philosophic temperament. Glancing at
my darling, I perceived that she was agitated, and straightway the
nightmare, which was at odds with her joy, as to how she was to provide
a suitable supper for these delightful visitors, took possession also
of my brain.

"Sam," she gasped, "how many are there?"

"All the world and his mother, including the youths without parents,"
answered her provoking relative with a beaming smile.

But Josie, who it seems was in the secret with Sam, and had managed
with him the whole affair, put her arms around her mother's neck and
whispered, "Don't believe him. Only people who really care for you are
coming. The supper is all provided for, mamma. I entered into a
conspiracy with your cook, and you needn't give a thought to anything."

We didn't; and we gave ourselves up to the occasion with a right good
will. As our daughter had said, only dear friends whose
congratulations were precious to us had been invited, and they, to the
number of about fifty, filled out our drawing-room wellnigh to
overflowing. Most of them had brought silver--shall I say alas! or
happily? Generally some pretty trifle which vouched for the sentimen