"Why not? I'd like to know!"
"'Cause the board of trustees won't let us ring the firebell, and all the churches have put their solid-ivories together and agreed not to let their bells be rung! That's why not!"
"Aw, come off!" sneered Sube.
"I guess I know what's in the paper! Don't you read the Citizen?"
"Now what do you know about that!" exclaimed Sube disgustedly. "Ain't that a nice way to celebrate the ever-glorious Fourth!"
"I call it rotten!" replied Gizzard feelingly; but it is safe to say that his feelings were aroused more by Sube's continued repetition of his new phrase, than disappointment over the modified form of welcome to the festal day prescribed by certain unpatriotic grown-ups who seemed to have forgotten that they once were young.
The neither-here-nor-there expression still rankled in Gizzard's memory, and now Sube was adding vinegar to the wound. But Gizzard realized the importance of keeping his feelings to himself. He knew that greater misery would be his lot if Sube ever found out how he felt about it.
"Rotten's no name for it," agreed Sube, scowling. "I guess those ol' guys have forgot how we signed that Declaration of Independence from Germany—"
"Germany!" howled Gizzard derisively. "You said Germany! Why, it wasn't Germany at all! It was France!"