Flossy sighed a little over the supper-table. How nice it would be to live at a hotel, and have a servant to wait upon one! But every thing here was so dreadfully common and poor. And, though Flossy would have scorned the idea of living out as a servant, she fancied a position of companion or ladies' maid would be rather agreeable than otherwise.
Hal was very much interested in her day's adventure. He seemed to understand it better than any of the others, and she could talk to him without the fear of being laughed at. They still sat in the moonlight, when suddenly a sharp click was heard, and a report that made them all scream.
Joe, the good-for-nothing, laughed.
"Wasn't that gay? Hurrah for Fourth of July!"
"Is it you?" asked Granny, who had thrown her apron over her head to keep her from being shot. "And is it a musket, or a cannon?"
"Why don't you frighten us all to death?" said Florence indignantly.
"Oh, it's a pistol!" exclaimed Hal.
"O Joe! and you'll be shot all to pieces before to-morrow night," bewailed Granny. "I'm so afraid of guns and fire-crackers! I once knew a little boy who had his hand shot off."
"If he could only have had it shot on again. I mean to try that way, like the man who jumped into the bramble-bush. Or wouldn't it do to shoot the pistol off instead of my fingers."
"Is it yours for good, Joe?" and Charlie's head was thrust over Hal's shoulders. "A real pistol! Let me see it."