“Oh, it’s a picnic,” said I, and then we heard a loud explosion in the opposite quarter from that of the last pistol shot.
I looked at Ethel, and we burst out laughing together.
“Fourth-of-July!”
“Of course! What geese we are. Oh, let’s go down town and see what they are doing!”
“Why, we can hear it up here. That’s all they are doing,” said I.
“No, I’ve always read about Fourth-of-July in the country. Don’t you remember Tom Bailey, in the ‘Story of a Bad Boy’? Let’s go down and join in the fun.”
“Probably Bert’s gone with his family. We’d have to walk.”
“Hello! here’s someone driving up to the post. Why, it’s James with a two-seated wagon!”
Just then Minerva came into the room, dressed up in her Sunday best and with an assortment of colored ribbons that made her look like a fair.
“Will there be anything to do to-day, ma’am? I’ve made lunch.”