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All
sorts
of
people
were
made
happy
by
that
birthday
party
.
Mr.
Perks
and
Mrs.
Perks
and
the
little
Perkses
by
all
the
nice
things
and
by
the
kind
thoughts
of
their
neighbours
;
the
Three
Chimneys
children
by
the
success
,
undoubted
though
unexpectedly
delayed
,
of
their
plan
;
and
Mrs.
Ransome
every
time
she
saw
the
fat
Perks
baby
in
the
perambulator
.
Mrs
Perks
made
quite
a
round
of
visits
to
thank
people
for
their
kind
birthday
presents
,
and
after
each
visit
felt
that
she
had
a
better
friend
than
she
had
thought
.
"
Yes
,
"
said
Perks
,
reflectively
,
"
it
's
not
so
much
what
you
does
as
what
you
means
;
that
's
what
I
say
.
Now
if
it
had
been
charity
--
"
"
Oh
,
drat
charity
,
"
said
Mrs.
Perks
;
"
nobody
wo
n't
offer
you
charity
,
Bert
,
however
much
you
was
to
want
it
,
I
lay
.
That
was
just
friendliness
,
that
was
.
"
When
the
clergyman
called
on
Mrs.
Perks
,
she
told
him
all
about
it
.
"
It
WAS
friendliness
,
was
n't
it
,
Sir
?
"
said
she
.
"
I
think
,
"
said
the
clergyman
,
"
it
was
what
is
sometimes
called
loving-kindness
.
"
So
you
see
it
was
all
right
in
the
end
.
But
if
one
does
that
sort
of
thing
,
one
has
to
be
careful
to
do
it
in
the
right
way
.
For
,
as
Mr.
Perks
said
,
when
he
had
time
to
think
it
over
,
it
's
not
so
much
what
you
do
,
as
what
you
mean
.
When
they
first
went
to
live
at
Three
Chimneys
,
the
children
had
talked
a
great
deal
about
their
Father
,
and
had
asked
a
great
many
questions
about
him
,
and
what
he
was
doing
and
where
he
was
and
when
he
would
come
home
.
Mother
always
answered
their
questions
as
well
as
she
could
.
But
as
the
time
went
on
they
grew
to
speak
less
of
him
.
Bobbie
had
felt
almost
from
the
first
that
for
some
strange
miserable
reason
these
questions
hurt
Mother
and
made
her
sad
.
And
little
by
little
the
others
came
to
have
this
feeling
,
too
,
though
they
could
not
have
put
it
into
words
.
One
day
,
when
Mother
was
working
so
hard
that
she
could
not
leave
off
even
for
ten
minutes
,
Bobbie
carried
up
her
tea
to
the
big
bare
room
that
they
called
Mother
's
workshop
.
It
had
hardly
any
furniture
.
Just
a
table
and
a
chair
and
a
rug
.
But
always
big
pots
of
flowers
on
the
window-sills
and
on
the
mantelpiece
.
The
children
saw
to
that
.
And
from
the
three
long
uncurtained
windows
the
beautiful
stretch
of
meadow
and
moorland
,
the
far
violet
of
the
hills
,
and
the
unchanging
changefulness
of
cloud
and
sky
.
"
Here
's
your
tea
,
Mother-love
,
"
said
Bobbie
;
"
do
drink
it
while
it
's
hot
.
"
