“Good night, folks,” he said. “We’d better sleep while we can. Something tells me that it’s going to be noisy around here tomorrow morning.”
Chapter Eight
The Fourth Was Full of Fun
IT was.
It sounded like the third day of the battle of Gettysburg. Giraffe crackers and salutes were crashing on all sides. Nigger-chasers danced across the pavement of the terrace with a staccato ticktacktoe. All over the lake people were celebrating. Flags were flying, and there was the intermittent pop and boom of firecrackers all the way from Hawk Point around to Poplar Bay.
Katy and Jane were sitting on the front steps, watching the boys. They’d put their hands over their ears and run whenever Billy would touch off a big one. James was barefooted and still wearing his pajama pants when Mom came out, and Davey wore his good trousers.
“Back in the house with you,” ordered Mom. “Get dressed and washed, and sit down to the table and eat breakfast. The company will start coming pretty soon, and I want everyone all cleaned up, and the porch cleared off before they get here.”
Breakfast was wonderful. Waffles with maple syrup and honey. Bacon curls, and melons with raspberries heaped in their scooped out centers. Grandma poured coffee out of a shining bubbling percolator, and the children had cold chocolate milk.
Butchie was having a fine time. He loved noise and excitement. He wasn’t the least bit afraid of the firecrackers, but he had seen the girls put their hands over their ears, and, mimic that he was, he imitated them.