"Does anyone remember that tomorrow is my birthday?" exclaimed Bolax. "Whew," echoed Uncle Dick, "is that a fact? What will be the number of your years tomorrow?" "Eleven. Hetty has made me a splendid cake, but I'm not to have a party because Papa is not well." "Oh, but you're going to have your chums," observed Amy. "Yes, our jolly seven will be here, and Hetty says that enormous cake must be eaten at one sitting." "You have made a mistake, brother, that very large cake is for the crippled children in St. Luke's Hospital; there are eighteen of them in the ward and we are to take it there ourselves and divide it." "That's so, I had almost forgotten about the poor children. We had better go there early in the morning and have the afternoon for our company."