"Independence day! the glorious Fourth, the nation's birthday," shouted Cyril, giving Don a kick, then springing out of bed and hurrying on his clothes.
"Oh! oh! Fourth of July!" echoed Don, following suit. "I'm so glad, 'cause now we can fire our crackers."
Their clatter and another shot roused Fan and Annis who joined in the rejoicing, the latter calling loudly for mother or Milly to come and dress her.
"No more hope of sleep," yawned Mr. Keith, in the next room; "so we may as well get up."
"Yes," returned his wife, "I wish you would, and watch over the children;—see that they don't burn their fingers or set things on fire.
"Yes, Annis, mother's coming."
Breakfast was prepared amid the almost constant firing of crackers and childish shouts of exultation, near at hand, and the occasional booming of the more distant cannon.
The young folks were full of gayety and excitement, hurrahing, singing "Hail Columbia!" "Yankee Doodle," and "Star-spangled Banner."
Rupert came in a little late to breakfast, from a stroll down town, and reported that a wonderfully large flag-staff had been planted in front of the court-house, and that the stars and stripes were floating from its top.