Had A Birthday Yesterday. First One For, I Think, A Year. Won't Have One Again, They Say, Till Another Year Is Here. Funny, Don't You Think So? I Can't Just Understand Now Why. Anyhow My Birthday Came; And I Had, Oh! Lots Of Things Birthday Gifts I Just Can't Name, Even Count Them: Toys And Rings; Hoops And Books And Hats. Indeed, Everything That I Don't Need. What I Wanted Was N'T Suits; Wooden Toys And"Wonderland"; But A Hoe To Dig Up Roots; And A Spade To Shovel Sand; Rake To Rake Where Father Said He Has Made A Flower-Bed. But I Did N'T Get Them; And Did N'T Get A Box Of Paints, Which I Wanted. I Raised Sand, Till My Mother Said, "My Saints! If You Don't Behave Yourself, Party'll Be Laid On The Shelf." So I Did Behave, And Played With The Little Girls And Boys, Who Just Stayed And Stayed And Stayed, Played With Me And With My Toys; Broke Some, Too; But, Never Mind, Had The Best Time Of Its Kind. Had The Dinner Then. I Bet Y' Never Saw A Finer Sight. A Big Birthday Cake Was Set, Thick With Icing, Round And White, In The Centre Of The Table, Looking All That It Was Able. On It Four Pink Candles Burned: And We Had A Lot Of Fun When A Little Girl There Turned, Blew Them Out, Yes, Every One, And I Kissed Her For It Yes And She Liked It, Too, I Guess. When I Saw My Father, Why, All The Children Then Were Gone; Only Child Around Was I. I Was Playing On The Lawn By Myself When Father Came, And He Kissed Me Just The Same. And I Asked My Father Where Do The Birthdays Come From, While He Sat In His Rocking-Chair, Looking At Me With A Smile. Then I Asked Him Where They Go When They're Gone. He Did N'T Know.