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And the Pretty Pink Pigeons accepted his invitation very quickly, and he tempted them, too, all the way to the summer-house, with a little of the bird-seed from the fourth pocket.

And then he called,–

“Goose, Goose, Goose–“

At first he couldn’t think of anything nice for them, but just kept calling, “Goose, Goose, Goose,” over and over until he thought up a bright idea–a fine rhyme,–

“You’ve no excuse.”

And then to the Turkey,–

“Turkey, come to my party,
If you don’t, you’re a smarty.”

Sort of silly, wasn’t it?–but, no, I guess that was pretty good.

Then he yelled,–

“Here Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat,
You’ll have a bite of that.”

And–

“Wienie and Brownie and Rover,
Come ‘n over, come ‘n over, come ‘n over!”

And at last,–

“Here, little fish,
Is a nice little dish.”

All things considered, he did pretty well, didn’t he?

Now he emptied all the different kinds of food, from his seven different pockets, on the little shingles and the little dishes on the table in the summer-house.

There was corn for the White Wyandottes and Mr. Stuckup the Turkey, and some, too, for the Foolish White Geese; and meal for the Pretty Pink Pigeons; and lettuce leaves for the hippity-hop white Bunnies; and milk from the little bottle for the Pussy; and puppy biscuit for the three Dogs; and worms for the Little Fish, all placed very politely in their little dishes.

It was a grand party. No wonder Mother said, “Good gracious!” and “Did you ever!”; and no wonder Father whistled, and said, “By George!”, and the Toyman slapped his overalls, and said “Gee-willikens!”–and perhaps a lot of other things besides.

But there was one serious trouble about this party. Marmaduke couldn’t keep sufficient order to make that important speech, which was to have been the event of the celebration.

He stood up on the bench in the summer-house, put his hands in his new pockets, made a fine bow, and began:

“Ladees and gen’lemen an’ all others, Mr. Rooster and Mrs. Rooster an’ General Turkey”–but he could get no further.

The White Wyandottes were jumping all over the table, and the Pretty Pink Pigeons, who were very tame, were trying to get in his pockets for more of the feast; and Rover and Brownie and Wienerwurst were jumping up and trying to lick his face; and his grand speech turned out something like this:

“Down, Rover! Get away, you crazy Geese! Stop that, Bunny! Stop it, I say–scat!!–scat!!!–“

Well, by this time Wienerwurst was biting the tails of the Pretty Pink Pigeons again; and Brownie was chasing the rabbits; and the Geese were flapping their wings and crying, “hiss, hiss!”; and the Pigeons were flying back to their home on the roof; and Rover had his mouth full of White Geese feathers; and Tabby was swallowing the little fish–and–and–Marmaduke was almost crying.

“I’ll take it all back,” he yelled, “you’re no ladies and gen’lemen you’re–you’re just mean an’ I won’t ever ask you to my party again.”

Of course, by this time, Mother and the Toyman and Father weren’t just standing still and looking and saying things–they were running–and–saying things!–running straight for that party which had turned out such a grand fight.

They tried to save what they could from the wreck. They spanked little Wienerwurst until he let go of the tails of the Pretty Pink Pigeons, and they got the Bunnies safe back in their hutch, and the White Wyandottes in their yard, and Mr. Turkey in his.

But they couldn’t save the poor little fish. It was very sad, but it was too late. Tabby wasn’t like Jonah’s whale. What she had once swallowed she wasn’t apt to give up.

Marmaduke felt very much hurt and very indignant about the way he had been treated. As Father said, “it was a grave slight to his hospitality.”

However, he forgot all about it when he saw the new skates which Mother and Father had waiting for him, and the grand Noah’s Ark which the Toyman had made with his very own hands. There isn’t much use telling the colors in which it was painted, because you know the Toyman was sure to put a lot of colors, and pretty ones, too, on all the things he made for the Three Happy Children.

There is one good thing about all the animals in that Noah’s Ark. They are very cunning and look like the real thing, but, as the Toyman said, “You can invite them to your house any time and they won’t fight, or bite, or scratch, or quarrel. They are very polite and well-behaved.”

Marmaduke had many a celebration for them, and made many a glorious speech to them as well, and they listened to every word.

So the birthday party really lasted long after the seven candles had gone out, and the cake had gone, too, every crumb.