“Say, can’t you march?” said a wheedling voice.
“No, I guess not,” Jim’s voice answered, a trifle dolefully.
“Why not? Won’t she make you a suit?”
There was a little pause before Jim answered: “Well, I don’t know’s I care ’bout marchin’.”
“H’m! you needn’t say that. It’s cause that stingy old maid won’t make you anything to wear, I know.”
There was a sudden movement on the other side of the hedge. “You call her a stingy old maid again and you’ll see! She’s a handsome lady, she is, and it ain’t none o’ your business if I don’t want to march.”
“H’m! you needn’t git on your ear so dreadful quick. I wouldn’t stand up for anybody that only let me earn money enough to buy two bunches of firecrackers. Why, I’ve got two packages! A great Fourth o’ July you’ll have!”
“I’ve got some more money, but I ain’t goin’ to buy firecrackers; I’m savin’ it for a s’prise. Say, look-a-here, you see, Miss Tibbox ain’t never had a boy ’round, an’ she don’t understand ’bout Fourth o’ July, that’s all.”
Miss Lucinda did not wait to hear the answer, but went swiftly back to the village.
The night before the Fourth, as Jim was going to bed, Miss Lucinda said: “Ain’t you going to march with the boys to-morrow, Jim?”