Bulletin Board

I sighed with relief and slipped out to the kitchen, being suddenly aware that I had missed dinner, a disaster for one of my metabolism. Daddy was there in an apron; he gave me a turkey leg. I ate that and a few Other things that wouldn't fit on the plates.

Then I went back and danced with Cliff and some of the stags that had gotten crOwded out around Gabby. When the orchestra took ten it turned Out that Johnny Allard could play piano, and he and Gabby sang French songs-the kind that sound naughty, -what with the eye-rolling, but probably aren't. Then we all sang Alouette which is more my speed.

Gabby was gaining a reputation as a woman of the world. I heard one ex-Boy Scout say, "You've really seen the Folies Bergère?"

Gabby looked puzzled and said, "Why not?"

He said, "Gee!" while his eyebrows crowded his scalp.

Finally we brought out the cake and everybody sang "Happy Birthday" again and Mother had -to -repair Gabby's face a second time. But by now Gabby could have washed her face and it wouldn't have mattered.

Professor Lamont arrived while we were killing the ice cream and cake-Daddy's doing. He and Jean Allard talked French, then I heard Jean ask him, in schoolbook English, for permission to call on his daughter. Doctor Lamont agreed in the same stilted fashion.

I blinked-Cliff never asked Daddy; he just started eating at our house, off and on.

Around midnight Doctor Lamont took his daughter home, loaded with swag. At the last minute I remembered to run upstairs and wrap up a new pair of nylons that would never fIt Gabby but she could exchange them. So Gabby cried again and clung to me and got incoherent in two languages and I cried some, too. Finally everybody left and Cliff and Daddy and I tidied up the place, sort of. When I hit the bed, I died.

Cliff showed up next morning. We gloated over the party, at least I did. Presently he said, "What about Georgia?"

.1 said, "Huh?"

He said, "You can't leave it at this. It ought to be poisoned needles, or boiling lava, but the police are narrow-minded."

"Any ideas?"

He pulled out the bill for the cake. "I'd like to see her pay this."

"So would I! But how in the world?"

Cliff explained, then we composed the letter together, like this: --

Dear Georgia,

Yesterday was Gabrielle Lamont's -- birthday-and we gave her the finest party this school has ever seen. Too bad you were hanging around the Snack Shoppe while the fun was going on. But we know you would like to give her a present anyway-you can still pay for the cake.

Put on your best bib and tucker and trot around --

- to Helen Hunt's. It was a surprise party, so don't breathe a word to anyone! (Nor shall we.)

-- The Committee

P.S. On second thought it will be-more fun if you

don't pay for the cake!

It wasn't anon~mous; the bill had our names on it and we pinned it to the letter. I bet Cliff two hamburgers that she wouldn't knuckle under. I was wrong. Half an hour after it was delivered Helen Hunt phoned to say that Cliff could have his pin back, the mortgage was lifted.

Monday morning I was at the board earlier than either Cliff or Gabby. Gabby's poor little "note" was still pinned up, where she had put it Friday. I wondered what she would do; start pretending all over again? --

I spotted her coming up the steps, walking alone and lonely, same as always-and again I wondered if it had done any good. Then somebody shouted, "Hey, Gabby! Wait a minute." She stopped and two boys joined her.

I watched her and then Cliff growled at my back, "Why the sniffles? Got a cold?"

I said, "Oh, Cliffi Give me your hanky and don't ask silly questions."