A surprise birthday party, prairie-style.

Clair Barnett was born September 18, 1895.

Jimmy's Birthday

“This is the fifteenth of September, in three more days it will be Jimmy’s birthday,” Emma Louise remarked one day to the teakettle singing on the stove. “That means I must go to town this afternoon.”

So after dinner she asked Jimmy if he would hitch Nelly to the buggy for her.

“Going to town?” he asked.

“Of course, silly. I have owed Mrs. Melsha a call for some time and this is a nice afternoon to go. We need a few groceries, too.” All of which was true.

At the store, Emma Louise greeted the owner’s daughter who did most of the head-clerking, buying, and book-keeping since her brother had gone to France, and knew almost as much about the business as did her father. “How much is cream, today, Milly?”

“Seventy-four cents, Mrs. Blank. It is staying up nicely.”

“That is good. I ought to be able to get some flour this week, here is my flour card.”

“Yes, but I am afraid a small sack is all we can let you have. We did not get as much in as we expected,” Mildred replied.

“Fiddle sticks,” Emma Louise pouted. “That means more mush bread. Speaking of feeding the soldiers, someone ought to feed us something good once in a while. But perhaps we can manage a cake this time. That reminds me, do you have any white sugar? I need about fifty cents worth,” Emma Louise continued.

“You will have to take brown sugar today, dear lady,” Mildred answered.

On her way home, Emma Louise stopped to visit a few minutes with Mrs. Melsha. As she left, her friend said: “You can count on us, Emma Lou. Dan and I shall be there, we can come with Ray and Mabel.”

“All right, Mrs. Melsha, that will be fine. I can stop now and let Mabel know about it.”

So Emma Louise stopped old Nelly in front of the next house where Ray and Mabel Marshall lived. Ray happened to be at home and promised to take his team and wagon and gather up a crowd and bring them out to Jimmy’s and Emma Lou’s the following Friday evening. He also agreed to tie mufflers on the horses’ feet in case Jimmy, who retired early, had gone to bed.

“Will you pick up Fred and Myrtle?” Emma Louise asked. “They are right on your way.”

“Sure I will, and we shall all be there about eight.”

Thursday, Emma Louise cleaned her little house from front door to back. Jimmy, coming in at noon, wanted to know what it was all about.

“Fall cleaning, Jimmy, it is a good thing to get it done while the weather is nice. You had better fix the storm doors before Jack Frost comes.”

Friday morning, after breakfast, Emma said to the big gray pussycat: “I believe I’ll get the cake in the oven first, then wash up things while it is baking. Just think, Kitty, we have enough flour and sugar in the house to make a cake, in spite of the war.”

“On second thought, though,” Emma Louise continued, “perhaps I had better make a syrup cake and save the sugar for the ice cream and the coffee.”

Emma Louise mixed her syrup cake, really a molasses cake with corn syrup in place of molasses, and carefully set it in the oven. “There, I hope it will be good. Do you suppose, Kitty, that I put enough flour in it? I am so accustomed to being a little stingy with the white flour. And that was funny about Milly telling me she did not have any white sugar and then putting a package of it with my groceries. I suppose, maybe, they had only enough for their regular customers and there were other people in the store who do not trade there very often.”

Overly anxious about her cake, Emma Louise peeked at it every few minutes while doing her dishes. Whether she peeked too often, or she had been too stingy with the flour, the cake failed to raise to her expectations, in fact it turned out to be rather a soggy mass.

“Oh dear,” sighed Emma Louise, “Another cake will have to be baked: another two cups of syrup, another cup of cream when butter fat is seventy four cents a pound, another two cups of white flour. Well, here goes.”

Dish washing ceased for the time being and another cake was soon placed in the oven.

This one raised, and turned out on a platter to cool, looked very nice, especially with its covering of brown sugar icing.

When Jimmy came in at noon, there was no cake in sight. Emma Louise, finishing the washing of the separator, said, “Dinner in a minute, Jimmy. We are having pudding for dessert.” In saucers beside their plates reposed pieces of the fallen cake covered with a whitish sauce.

During the afternoon Emma Louise set her kitchen to rights, mixed the ice cream custard ready to freeze and set it in a cool place. Then refreshed by a nap, a bath, and a pretty new house dress, she was in a merrier mood. Jimmy happened for once to finish his field work early, so supper was not delayed. More curious looking pudding appeared on the table for supper, but Jimmy made no comments.

He had worries along other lines, it seemed. “This has been a dreadful day, Emma Louise, as you said at noon. I was snapping a little corn for the hogs on the side hill over south, and the wagon tipped over. Rowdy got scared and started to run. That was a mess. This must have been Friday the thirteenth.”

“Why, Jimmy, don’t you know this is the eighteenth, your birthday?” Emma Louise asked.

“I thought something was wrong,” he answered, very much disgusted.

“Now, Jimmy, you must not talk like that. It is too bad the wagon tipped over, though. I tried to bake you a cake today but it flopped. It was the pudding.”

“Since it is my birthday, let’s play a game of Rook. Then since we are both tired, let’s go to bed,” Jimmy suggested.

“Suits me fine,” Emma Louise agreed.

So eight o’clock found Jimmy in bed, but his voice followed Emma Louise out into the kitchen: “What are you doing out there so long, Emma Lou?”

“Putting out the cat and winding the clock,” Emma Louise answered cheerfully.

Opening the door to set Pussy on the porch, Emma Louise heard the sound of wheels. She swiftly closed the door, shutting out the sound from Jimmy, and stood on the step, waiting. As the team turned into the lane, she waved.

And pandemonium broke loose! Such a racket! Horns, cow bells, a referee’s whistle, a dish pan beaten with a wooden spoon. The tumult brought Jimmy running. “What is it, Emma Louise?” he asked, jerking open the door.

“Better get into your clothes, you will soon find out,” his wife replied.

When Jimmy returned to the living room looking as if he had dressed in great haste, the crowd was swarming up on the porch and in the door.

“You surprised me, folks, I’ll tell the world you did,” was all he could say.

Mrs. Melsha handed Emma Louise a package, saying: “I brought a cake, Emma Lou, so many of us came.”

“Oh, Mrs. Melsha, that was nice,” Emma Louise cried.

By the time Jimmy had examined the many birthday gifts which somehow appeared on the dining table, Ray and Fred, in the kitchen, had the ice cream frozen and packed.

Then the games began, and caused much laughing and shrieking for an hour or so.

The climax to the fun was the game of ‘Wolf’. Emma Louise, pretending to give them all different names, gave each person the name of wolf. Then, standing in the center of the circle, she proceeded to tell a story about taking a walk in the woods and meeting different animals. As each person’s name was called, he was supposed to dash from the room, if caught, he would have to go on with the story. As several animals were mentioned and no one started to run, several persons looked anxiously at others, thinking that some had forgotten their names. Suddenly, Emma Louise had met a wolf in her ramblings through the woods.

How the wolves did scatter! Everyone tried to push through the few doors at the same time, and the expressions on their faces when they saw everyone else was trying to get out, too! But Mabel had had a suspicion and dropped into a rocking chair, shaking with laughter.

After this hilarity the ice was indeed broken; many jokes were cracked and many stories told as the ice cream, cake and coffee appeared and then disappeared.

Jimmy and Emma Louise stood on the porch, bidding their guests good night. As the wagon went clattering down the lane, Jimmy said: “Not such a bad day after all. You gave me a nice party, Emma Louise. Old Bill Shakespeare knew what he was talking about when he said: ‘All’s well that ends well’.”