“Now for the pyr-o-tech-nic display!” commanded Captain Tom; and for nearly an hour Roman candles fizzed, blue-lights popped, torpedoes cracked, pin-wheels whizzed, and fire-crackers banged.
Old Patience said it was worth living a hundred years to see.
And as the last fire-work went up a rocket and came down a stick, the gallant company formed in single file, and, marching past Aunt Patience, each member bade her “good-night,” and dropped some money in her lap.
As for Uncle Al—that generous, jolly, warm-hearted old sailor, his gift was three old-fashioned silver dollars; one for himself, one for Ex, and one for Ander.
“No one should think,” he said, “that his dogs were mean dogs.”
Then away they all went again, hurrahing, shouting, and drumming like mad!
LITTLE CHUB AND THE SKY WINDOW.
BY MARY D. BRINE.