the first of september was johnny blossom’s birthday, and father and mother had decided that he should have a party and that the party should be held at kingthorpe. how delightful that would be!
he was to be allowed to invite just exactly whom he pleased, especially those who had been kind to him, mother said. my, oh, my! but that would mean a good many!
soon after this plan was made, all the household went out to kingthorpe one day—father, mother, asta, andrea, dagny, and johnny blossom, of course, and the two maids.
wide open stood the park gates, wide open the heavy, richly wrought gates to the courtyard, where the fountain was splashing musically; wide open, too, the great entrance doors and all the doors between the rooms, so that light and air streamed once more through the long-closed mansion. very big and beautiful it looked in the bright sunshine, and its curtains fluttering in the summer wind seemed to be waving a welcome from the windows.
in the lofty, echoing rooms everything had been left undisturbed: the furniture with its silken upholstery, the mirrors reaching from floor to ceiling, the great paintings that filled the walls, and the art treasures, gathered from every corner of the world. many of these tapestries and vases and statues were extremely rare, but to johnny blossom they were only queer, especially a certain indian idol with an ugly face made of gold. why should any one want that?
mother went about, uncovering mirrors and furniture until the room which was called the white salon showed all white and yellow, with its gilding and its silken damask cushions gleaming in the strong september sunlight.
“i think uncle isaac would like that there should be a festival at kingthorpe on the first birthday you have after becoming the kingthorpe heir, john,” said mother.
johnny blossom went storming through the rooms. my, oh, my! how little he seemed when he looked at himself in those enormous mirrors. soon, however, he was walking on the railing of the veranda. what a veranda it was, with its massive stone pillars and broad steps of white marble leading to the grounds! still, johnny blossom was not altogether sure that the veranda at home wasn’t just as pretty; at any rate, it was pleasanter, that was certain.
below the veranda at kingthorpe an avenue of nut trees stretched a long way. the foliage was so thick that the avenue was always in deep shade, however bright the day. not a sunbeam pierced the gloom, but far down at the end of the avenue, something shone like a big glittering eye. that was the sea shining.
the whole garden with its crooked old trees and newly planted young ones was overflowing with fruit: big and little pears, red apples, yellow apples, and oh! any quantity of plums—yellow plums bursting with ripeness, great juicy blue plums, and those sweet ones of a reddish purple color. hurrah!
and he was to ask every one he wished to! hurrah for that, too! all the boys in his class, of course; and all the boys in the next higher; why, yes, and those little fellows in the class below. and tellef! and tellef’s sisters and mother and the grandmother—she could see now—yes, he must have her. then all those old women at the almshouse. and the workmen at the wharf and the works—they must come with their families.
mother planned everything for the party. there should be long tables in the park, where the feast should be spread for the children and most of the grown-up people; but the old and feeble ones whom johnny invited should have their feast in the beautiful dining room that had angels painted on the ceiling. a band of music was to come from the city. there were to be flags and colored lanterns the entire length of the shady avenue, and when daylight faded and the park began to grow dusky, there would be fireworks—yes, fireworks as true as you live! mother said so.
as the first of september drew near, johnny blossom could scarcely sit still a minute, he was so full of joy. he asked if he might not go around and invite the guests himself, it would be so jolly.
“you mustn’t forget anybody,” warned mother.
far from it. he was sure he would remember every single one.
first he went to madame bakke, who lived nearest. she had had a long illness and was paler than usual today. johnny blossom put his heels together and bowed.
“i want to know if you will come to a party on saturday at kingthorpe, madame bakke,” said johnny.
“what do you say?” asked madame bakke.
“it’s my party,” continued john, “and i am to invite as many as i please.”
“well, well!” exclaimed madame bakke in delight. “am i to go to kingthorpe?”
“yes, and there is so much sunshine out there,” said johnny. “you’ll see how hot the sun is on the white marble steps.”
“but i haven’t any fine clothes,” said madame bakke.
“well, of course you must look nice,” said johnny seriously, “but you don’t need anything fine. good-by, and welcome to the party.”
johnny blossom bowed himself out and madame bakke watched him as long as he was in sight.
next he went to the little crippled boy who had such big, mournful eyes.
“i’m going to have a party at kingthorpe,” said johnny, “and i want you to come. there will be lots and lots of yellow plums.”
“is that so?” asked the little cripple.
“you may chop my head off if it isn’t,” said johnny. “and your little sisters are to come, too; only they must have their faces washed.”
“can i eat all the plums i want?” asked the little cripple.
“oh, yes, the whole garden is full.”
“shall i come now?” asked the child, smiling.
“no, it is next saturday.”
“that’s a long time to wait.”
“oh, well, the plums will be all the riper.”
away went johnny blossom to jeremias the wood-cutter.
“on saturday you must come to my party at kingthorpe, jeremias,” said johnny.
“who is going to invite me?” inquired jeremias.
“why, i invite you, you see.”
“what should i do there?”
“oh, eat and drink and have fun. if you want to swing in the big swing, for instance, you can do that.”
“well, now! perhaps that would be pleasant,” said jeremias the wood-cutter. “it is handsome of you to invite me.”
“i’m inviting all my friends,” said johnny blossom, earnestly. “you must wear that light coat the mayor gave you, for that will look nice, you know.”
yes, he had that coat, but who had told johnny to tell him to wear it?
“i thought of it myself.”
jeremias wagged his head. “i tell you, there’s something to a boy that has the head to plan like that.”
“you will be very welcome, jeremias,” said johnny ceremoniously.
now it was katrina the dwarf he was inviting. she could not believe at first that she was asked to a party at kingthorpe.
“a dwarf like me would not be wanted at that fine place,” said poor katrina.
“yes, indeed, you are to come; you must come. there’s going to be a band of music the whole time.”
“music? is there to be music?”
“yes, and awfully good things to eat.”
“oh! but to think—music! it’s just heavenly to listen to music.”
“well, you can sit and listen to music all day, and eat plums at the same time.”
johnny prevailed; poor little katrina agreed that she would come.
at the almshouse all the old women gathered in the hall and stared at johnny blossom. he looked very little standing among them. indeed they would come, all of them, he might be sure of that.
“but why do you invite poor old folks like us?” asked olava.
“oh, because i am heir of kingthorpe, you know, and because everybody likes to go to a party.”
all the old women laughed, and johnny said, “welcome to kingthorpe, then, on saturday,” and bowed and went his way.
later he invited many, many children from the town as well as from his own school, and all the teachers.
oh, it was wonderful! wonderful! johnny blossom had to stand on his head in the grass, time after time—everything was so unspeakably joyful!
at last the great day came and the weather could not have been finer. the gates to kingthorpe stood wide open and people thronged inside. the flags waved, the sunbeams danced, and under the old trees there was a continual buzz of gay talk and laughter.
at first, however, it was a little ceremonious. johnny blossom had to stand beside father and mother on the great marble steps and welcome the guests. he was rather sober and felt a little shy. father and mother, too, although they smiled, were somewhat serious. mother’s eyes even had tears in them.
all the old women came clambering up the steps and shook hands with johnny; and then mother took them into the drawing room and said, “please feel free to go anywhere you wish about the house and to look at everything.”
gradually the great rooms were filled, the park overflowed with children, and the band in the walnut tree avenue sent everywhere its strong, rich tones. on a bench near the bandstand sat katrina the dwarf in a bright red dress. when johnny blossom saw her he ran to the garden and picked as many plums as he could carry and put them in her lap. “i promised you these, you know,” he said.
it wasn’t long before there were children in the trees everywhere, shaking the branches, throwing the fruit down to the grassy ground, where their fathers and mothers sat laughing and wondering at everything. to the children it was all like a fairy tale. there were dances and games and every kind of jollity under the stately old trees, and it took some skill to get the people to their places when the feast was ready.
long tables stood in rows in one part of the park, as had been planned. father presided here, while mother attended to john’s special guests in the beautiful dining room. milla the fishwoman and olava and the others sat stiff and proper on the edge of the damask-covered chairs, saying not a word. tellef’s grandmother, however, talked fast enough. she was so happy, now that she could see.
“ah, me! ah, me!” said she. “it’s all a miracle; that i should be here in this fine room and see all this grandeur, see out of the window where the sun shines, and see also something that shines still brighter in johnny blossom’s eyes.”
the old people strayed through the house upstairs and down. they looked at everything, felt of everything, exclaimed over everything; they ate, and put into their pockets, and ate again.
johnny blossom ran joyfully around everywhere. he was not still two minutes. they all wanted to see him and called to him from every direction. my, oh, my! how jolly it was to be the heir of kingthorpe!
when the feasting was over, there was a call for silence. it came from father, who stood again at the top of the marble steps and was evidently going to make a speech. all the children flocked together near the steps, in the sunshine, and hundreds of childish faces were upturned towards the speaker. behind father, on the veranda, at the windows, and in the doorways stood john’s aged friends, among them katrina in her bright red dress and jeremias the wood-cutter in the mayor’s light coat that was altogether too small for him. jeremias had been to the kingthorpe woodshed the first thing, for there was something he understood; but now he had stationed himself behind father. the crippled child sat on the lowest step, his pockets stuffed full of plums.
john had to stand right beside his father during the speech. every word could be heard even by those on the edge of the crowd:
“johnny blossom had permission to invite all his friends to kingthorpe today. he was to ask all who had been kind to him, and it looks as if he had a great many kind friends. this is his first birthday since he became heir of kingthorpe. perhaps you think it is an easy thing to be that—that it means only to shake ripe fruit into your lap and to live in big, bright rooms. johnny blossom will understand more and more, as time goes on and he grows older, that it is not easy to be the kingthorpe heir.
“do you ask why? because it means work and responsibility. for what is all this that you see, house and garden, park and farm, but a loan to be accounted for? it is only a loan. that is why it brings to johnny blossom work and responsibility. he must remember that uncle isaac did not give him all this to use simply for his own benefit and pleasure—far from it—but for the good of others. he must remember that riches bring duties. he must remember that god will some time say to him, ‘johnny blossom, how have you dealt with what you received as a loan upon the earth?’”
it was very solemn and impressive to have father say all this about him, and a lump came in johnny’s throat. father paused and then continued, speaking more emphatically:
“children, you are all heirs. you are all heirs to god’s kingdom. you all have work to do, responsibility to bear. you, too, will be asked some time: ‘what have you done upon earth? have you been loving and kind? have you tried to do what good you could?’ the greatest thing is to be loving; but you know that life demands from us not only love, but truth and obedience and much besides of which i will not speak now. i wish only that from this first visit to kingthorpe you should take home with you this word: you are all god’s children, all heirs together of god’s kingdom.”
father was certainly a splendid speaker. there! they were shouting hurrah! johnny joined in at first, but soon he found they were saying, “hurrah for johnny blossom!” this was embarrassing, but pleasant, after all.
again the company scattered throughout the park. this was the time for the sack-racing and other contests in jumping, running, and singing. father gave out the prizes, and then refreshments were served again.
the sunbeams slanted more and more and some of the children fell asleep, leaning against their mothers; so the fireworks began earlier than had been planned. with the first rocket’s hissing flight the children awoke and shouted for joy, and the fireworks hissed and sparkled and flashed—red, blue, green, yellow—above the park.
finally, the whole company assembled in the great white salon. the children sang some beautiful songs, ending with, “yes, we love our grand old norway!” some one came forward, elbowing his way. it was jeremias in his tight coat.
“i want to say thank you, sir, for such a day as this. i’m only a poor man, but i can say this much, johnny blossom can do many a good turn”—
jeremias seemed to have no more to say.
then some one lifted johnny blossom up. he was warm and red, but beaming. “come soon again, everybody!” he called out.
little by little the room emptied. the colored lights shone like small suns along the dark avenues, and the stars twinkled and gleamed.
in the tiny bedroom in town johnny blossom laid his brown head on the pillow. “thank you, dear god, thank you, thank you,” he murmured, and said no more, for he was overpowered by sleep.
