Philadelphia had a day of jubilee in honor of the repeal of the Stamp Act, and Mr. Calamity with cane and snuffbox wandered out to see the sights. The streets were in holiday attire, bells were ringing, and here and there a shout for Franklin went up from an exulting crowd. As often as the prudent old gentleman heard that name he turned around, pounding his cane and taking a pinch of snuff.
He went down to a favorite grove on the banks of the Schuylkill. He found it spread with tables and hung with banners.
"Sir," he said to a local officer, "is there to be a banquet here?"
"Yes, your Honor, the banquet is to be here. Have you not heard?"
"What is the banquet to be for?"
"In honor of Franklin, sir."
Mr. Calamity turned round on his cane and took out his snuffbox.
There was an outburst of music, a great shout, and a hurrying of people toward the green grove.
Something loomed in air.
The old gentleman, putting his hand over his eye as a shade, looked up in great surprise.