THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY.
THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys theevening before.
They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing ofhorns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely fiveminutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward tillthe family were downstairs.
It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, thoughcrowded, period of noise.
The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o'clock, aterrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family.
Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: "I amthankful the lady from Philadelphia is not here!" For she had beeninvited to stay a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth ofJuly, as she was not well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet.
And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though everycow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns!
"How many little boys are there? How many have we?" exclaimed Mr.Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking hewould do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, toput himself to sleep. Alas!
the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din.
And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Elizawas to take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the fiveminutes, and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Whydid not Elizabeth Eliza stop them?
And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen!
"We will not try this plan again," said Mrs. Peterkin.
"If we live to another Fourth," added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to thedoor to inquire into the state of affairs.
Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour tooearly. And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or fourof their friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had giventhem permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understoodthe day as beginning when they went to bed the night before. Thisaccounted for the number of horns.
It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the fiveminutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained onlythe noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possiblepillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bellsand cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,--the sunrise, or"the rising of the sons," as Mr.
Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and theirfriends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities.
They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at thesuggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang someflags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew ofa place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for"flag-root," and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They didbring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. Theboys were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of thepiazza when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along.As the procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and thecrowd of boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the housewith some especial strains of greeting.
Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a fewmoments of quiet, during the boys' absence from the house on theirvisit to the swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she hada sick-headache, or whether it was all the noise, and she was justdeciding it was the sick headache, but was falling into a light slumber,when the fresh noise outside began.
There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying ofdonkeys, and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers ofthe boys. Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles hadChinese crackers also.
And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast.
Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had neverallowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraidof torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some thechildren would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it.
She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even aboutpea-nuts.
Everybody exclaimed over this: "Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!"But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at theCentennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets inBoston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast thepea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, inthe midst of a crowd of people, too!
Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should besorry to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution,something really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed toa quiet pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on thesidewalks as he went along the streets.
Agamemnon thought it a simple joy.
In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no realcelebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consentedto give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family asa Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terriblenoise,--only she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house.
The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few daysbeforehand, that their mother might be used to the sound, and hadselected their horns some weeks before.
Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs.Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from thedictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,--saltpetre,charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in thewood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel;and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary's. He explained to hismother that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and shewas quieted.
Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere formaking a "fulminating paste" of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. Hehad written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But theiron filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or twobefore, and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on thepiazza.
Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening.
According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, thereading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in themorning, on the piazza, under the flags.
The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door.
"That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant," explained ElizabethEliza.
"She said the flags of our country," said the little boys. "Wethought she meant 'in the country.'"
Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of theDeclaration of Independence.
Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add asmuch. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as theybegan:--"When, in the course of--when, in the course of--when, in thecourse of human--when in the course of human events--when, in the courseof human events, it becomes--when, in the course of human events,it becomes necessary--when, in the course of human events it becomesnecessary for one people"--They could not get any farther. Some of theparty decided that "one people" was a good place to stop, and the littleboys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the people. But Mr.Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party to stay untilsunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes were to besaved to be fired off at the close of every sentence.
And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased.
Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should havesome cold beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, andeverybody ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of adinner. But when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken itto soak, on account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks!
Well,
they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had boughttamarinds and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and whenthe Antiques and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nutsand lemonade.
They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, theyfrightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppieswere out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in thegarden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing ofinsects, in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Someneighboring boys were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs.Peterkin started, and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone.Mr. Peterkin had set out to find a copy of the "Declaration." Agamemnonhad disappeared. She had not a moment to decide about her headache.
She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and ifrockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure wherethey came down.
And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed towardthem, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for apractice and for a Fourth-of-July show.
Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of theguests.
There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they wouldbetter go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkinhastened into the house to save herself, or see what she could save.Elizabeth Eliza followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokersand tongs she could find, because they could be thrown out of the windowwithout breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glassesout of the window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being onfire, and had carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden.There was nothing like being prepared. She had always determined to dothe reverse. So with calmness she told Solomon John to take down thelooking-glasses. But she met with a difficulty,--there were no pokers andtongs, as they did not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkinhad been afraid of them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots andkettles up to the upper windows, ready to be thrown out.
But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to theattic in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was themost unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bagsof old pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck,she said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks onFourth of July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all thecompany declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was longbefore Mrs. Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire companywas only out for show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thoughtit already too much celebrated.
Elizabeth Eliza's kettles and pans had come down through the windowswith a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boysthought.
Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy ofthe Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and hehad to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannonbegan, he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bellsand sounding of the cannon.
Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjorampots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off withgreat explosions.
At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon,with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside.
"I have suddenly remembered where I read about the 'fulminating paste'we made. It was in the preface to 'Woodstock,' and I have been round toborrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraidabout the 'paste' going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where isthe fulminating paste?"
Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel.It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told himof the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it thelouder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon Johnfelt it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for amedicine.
He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon's book: "This paste,when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself takefire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell."
"Where is the paste?" repeated Solomon John, in terror.
"We made it just twenty-six hours ago," said Agamemnon.
"We put it on the piazza," exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling thefacts, "and it is in front of our mother's feet!"
He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire,flinging aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon thepiazza at the same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded atonce with the shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same momentthe paste "fulminated" into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs.Peterkin!
It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. Thebells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had justreached the closing words: "Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacredhonor."
"We are all blown up, as I feared we should be," Mrs. Peterkin atlength ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side ofthe piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scatteredlimbs about her.
It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of thepiazza, with closed eyes.
At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, "Is anybody killed?"
There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybodywas killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a greatwhile before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move.
But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success ofSolomon John's fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them hadhis face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza'smuslin dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one hadlost any limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flyingin the air. Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmlyshut.
No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of SolomonJohn's nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the"fulminating paste."
Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how shegot there.
Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused theneighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on everyside, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boyshastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. SolomonJohn's other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough.
Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have aheadache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to seeif it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures ofthe day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boyshad been allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there waslikely to be but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared sheshould never more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetredbeef, and she should never venture to take another spoonful of potash.
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