“Yes; ’cause now he can’t come here. I was afraid he’d come to my house with his hatchet, and cut down some o’ my trees!”
She seemed so relieved that they all laughed; how could they help it? But no one undertook to correct her opinion of the “father of his country.”
“No use talking to her, she’s such a little goose,” thought Jimmy-boy. “Wait till she’s as old as I am, and she’ll know all about it.”
But now the sun had fairly dropped behind the wrinkled mountains; the city fireworks had begun to play, and Jimmy’s fingers were tingling to be at work on his rockets.
What a grand affair! How the neighbors, large and small, were flocking to that veranda, and with them half the dogs in town! Which rose higher and jollier, the human or the canine voices, it would have been hard to tell.
But there were silent guests too. Three horned toads sat near by, fastened by strings to three stakes. Jimmy had tied them before tea, to make sure they would have a good time “seeing the sights.” They did see the sights, and their beady eyes blinked in the light; but if they had a good time they kept it all to themselves.
Whiz! Fizz! Up soared Jimmy’s fireworks, the finest ever had in town. First pin-wheels. But that was nothing; after that began the real business, the grand display.
Each firework was a picture all by itself; and such shouting and clapping you never heard. But last and best of all was a picture, in gold and silver fire, of a large, grand man in a soldier’s uniform and cocked hat.
“’Rah! ’Rah! George Washington!” shouted Jimmy. “Take off your hats! He’s the father of his country.”
Then every hat came off, and every handkerchief was waved, till the noble figure of Washington faded into a shower of gold-dust, and made a path of glory along the evening sky.