It wasn’t a celebration; it was only the annual review of the Mount Airy fire department, which was always held on the Fourth of July. Ralph and his cousins were fully prepared to make all sorts of fun of it, but when the head of the procession came into view around the corner of the street below, they were so surprised at the size of it that they had not a word to say. It took up the whole width of the street, and that it was determined to have all the room it wanted, was made plain by the actions of a couple of mounted policemen who rode in front to clear the way.
“That’s good marching, boys,” said Loren, who had seen so much of it in New London that he thought himself qualified to judge. “It is a very creditable display for so small a place as this.”
“Every body seems to think it’s going to be something grand,” sneered Tom, who was really amazed at the rapidity with which the spacious veranda was filled by the guests, who came pouring out of the wide doors in a steady stream.
“Why, there’s a military company in line with the firemen—two of them,” exclaimed Ralph.
“Visiting companies, no doubt,” said Tom, “and that’s what makes every one so anxious to see them.”
“There’s where you are wrong, Tom,” said Mr. Farnsworth, who, approaching them unobserved, had heard every word of their conversation. “You never saw a parade just like this, and I don’t believe you will ever see another unless your father and I carry out some plans we have been talking about, and come up here to live.”
“To live?” echoed Tom.
“Up here in the woods?” cried Ralph.
“Among all these country greenhorns!” chimed in Loren.
“You will find very few country greenhorns in Mount Airy,” said Mr. Farnsworth, with a laugh. “Why, boys, those fire companies represent millions of New London’s business capital.”