"If he does," said old Mr. Pettingill, "we must shoot him and bile him, and eat him, because we shall be rather short of meat, my son, if you go on in this lazy way."
And the old man wept.
He shed over 120 gallons of tears.
That is to say, a puncheon. But by all means let us avoid turning this romance into a farce.
VII.—PYROTECHNY.
But the headstrong young man went to work, making fireworks.
He bought and carefully studied a work on pyrotechny.
The villagers knew that he was a remarkably skilful young man, and they all said, "We shall have a great treat next 4th of July."
Meanwhile Pettingill worked away.
VIII.—THE DAY.