“We incline to think that because a man is worth millions, he must have every other good quality. This is absurd. He lives in the same world that we live in, and if he does not live in a glass house, he does live in a house with large plate glass windows in it, and is exposed to the same surveillance and temptations. He has the same need of honest treatment. He is drawn by the same chords of love and sympathy.
“As to the children, I believe that one of the greatest obstacles in the way of this reform is the inclination of the older people to shut their eyes to the doings of the youngsters on this day. This will not do, my friends. It is not until we have taught them the higher lessons of love and right action for every day of the year, that we can hope to accomplish a pure and permanent reform. Like Brother Parnell I believe in the old-fashioned educative Town meeting, but I would not have it too old-fashioned. The city mothers as well as fathers should be in it, just as they are here tonight.”
The meeting closed with the doxology. Father Ferrill and the Reverend Dr. Normander went out arm in arm—and the miraculous happened! The overgrown boy who shouted “Keeo! Let’s dump ’em in the river,” was sitting in his express wagon under the strong light of the street lamp. As soon as he saw the clergymen, he called out:
“A miracle, Father Ferrill! Explosives unguarded, Dr. Normander! Shortest way out of Fourth of July racket! I would like to know the sense of this meeting. Will it have sense enough to order me to drive on to the river? I’d like to drive on. Will the folks surround me? I’d like to be surrounded. Will they help me dump this patriotic stuff into the river? I’d like to be helped.”
Father Ferrill went to the lad and spoke to him in a low tone of voice, after which he rose up in his seat. The lamp flared full in his face. He raised his eyes and made the sign of the cross.
“This is the sign that his words are true,” said Father Ferrill turning to the crowd. “It would seem that miraculous things do happen even in these sinful days. The logic of it is this (You see I understand that the real Yankee always wants a reason for everything): When a very important matter agitates the community, no knowing where the wave will end or what it will bring back to us. It is then that a miracle happens. Dr. Normander wished for a miracle and something very like it has happened. The history of it is this: This lad through whom the so-called miracle has come, was the foster child of Captain Dan Solomon, who was killed several years ago by the bursting of a cannon on Schwarmer Hill. He has always thought that Schwarmer was to blame for that accident. He had an order from him this afternoon to deliver the Fourth of July goods at his mansion on the Hill. He stopped in to this meeting on his way to the train. When Dr. Normander expressed a desire to get his eye on those explosives he hastened out. Now he is here with the atrocious things and has given me the bill to read for your enlightenment:
| 200 | boxes | of | firecrackers | (common) |
| 100 | " | " | " | (giant) |
| 100 | " | " | blank cartridges | |
| 50 | " | " | Toy pistols |
Express Agents please handle with care.
J. E. Schwarmer.”
“Yes! yes! We’ll handle them with care—on to the river!” shouted a chorus of voices.