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Days! Days! Days! Finally, on May Fourth, that day of tiny Nancy's big church ritual, you know; that day, upon which any woman would look back with romantic joy, Nancy, with Kathlyn, Lady Gadsby and His Honor, stood at Branton Hills' big railway station, at which our Municipal Band was drawn up; in back of which stood, in solid ranks, this city's grand young manhood, Bill, Julius, Frank, John, Paul and Norman standing just as straight and rigid as any. As that long, long troop train got its signal to start,—but you know all about such sights, going on daily, from our Pacific coast to Atlantic docks.
As it shot around a turn, and Gadsby was walking sadly toward City Hall, a Grammar School boy hurrying up to him said:—
"Wow!! I wish I could go to war!"
"Hi!" said Gadsby. "If it isn't Kid Banks!"
"Aw! Cut that kid stuff! I'm Allan Banks! Son of Councilman Banks!"
"Oh, pardon. But you don't want to go to war, boy."
"Aw! I do too!!"
"But young boys can't go to war."
"I know that; and I wish this will last until I grow so I can go. It's just grand! A big cannon says Boom! Boom! and,—"