"It's the day our nation was founded, a hundred and twenty-four years ago."
"The time we fit out the British, hain't it?" inquired Uncle Lot.
"Yes."
As Amy and Virginia started down the rocky, winding branch,—for they had to leave early to help with the work on the hill,—Uncle Lot turned to Aunt Ailsie and said, weightily: "Them women may be quare and furrin and fotched-on, but, in my opinion, they hain't runaway wives. And, in my jedgment, if Solomon was here, he would allow they hain't strange women, neither."
III
THE FOURTH OF JULY
On Tuesday noon, Uncle Lot announced to Aunt Ailsie that he would go to the quare women's Fourth-of-July picnic the following day, and would take her along.
"Hit appears to be my duty, as a law-loving man, like they said, to be thar on the hill in case of trouble, which is nigh-about sartain to come, there not being hardly a gethering in two year, be hit election or court or funeral-meeting or what not, that hain't been shot up, and sometimes broke up, ginerally by Fult and his crowd."
"O paw, you allus a-faulting Fulty, and him your own grandchild, and the picter of you when you was young!"
"Picter or no picter, I hain't proud of daddying no sech, and don't uphold none of his doings. And if Darcy's crowd is there, too, which hit will be, with all the county a-mustering, then hit's unknowing what the day may bring forth."