"Mother pulled me out of bed ever so early, and I putted on my goloshes, and didn't we get wet just! Milly, _isn't_ my paint-box a beauty ?" But it's no good trying to describe what Milly felt.

She felt as every happy little girl feels on a happy birthday, just a little bit bewitched, as if she had got into another kind of world altogether.
"Now," said father, after breakfast, "I'm yours, Milly, for all this morning.

What are you going to do with me ?" "Make you into a tiger, father, and shoot you," said Olly, who would have liked to play at hunting and shooting games all day long.
"I didn't ask you, sir," said Mr.Norton, "I'm not yours, I'm Milly's.
Now, Milly, what shall we do ?" "Will you take us right to the top of Brownholme, father?
You know we haven't been to the very top yet." "Very well, we'll go if your legs will carry you.

But you must ask them very particularly first how they feel, for it'll be stiff work for them." Not very long after breakfast, and before they started for their walk, Aunt Emma's pony carriage came rattling up the drive, and she, too, brought flowers for Milly, above all a bunch of water-lilies all wet from the lake; and then she and mother settled under the trees with their books and work while the children started on their walk.
But first Milly had drawn mother into a corner where no one could see, and there, with a couple of tears in her two blue eyes, she had whispered in a great hurry, so that Mrs.Norton could scarcely hear, "I don't want to have everything just as _I_ like, to-day, mother.

Can't I do what somebody else likes?
I'd rather." Which means that Milly was a good deal excited, and her heart very full, and that she was thinking of how, a year before, her birthday had been rather spoilt toward the end of it by a little bit of crossness and self-will, that she remembered afterward with a pang for many a long day.