The gay parade of little folk shown in our picture takes place every Fourth of July at Dayton, Ohio—a pretty town on the banks of the Miami River.
It originated, we believe, in the brain of a patriotic little nurse-maid, who, with two or three companions; on a Fourth of July some years ago, trimmed their carriages with flags and streamers, and gayly tripped around the block in Indian file. The babies were delighted, and the nurse-maids flattered at the attention they received on every hand, and not one little boy on the entire route so far forgot himself as to fire a cracker under the babies' carriages or throw a torpedo at their protectors.
Every year, with one exception, the little procession has wended its way along the sidewalk, with constantly increasing numbers, the pioneer babies taking the lead.
But on a hot summer day one year, when the little carriages were almost ready, and busy hands were putting on their holiday attire, one of the three children fell ill and passed away. Its empty carriage told so mournful a story that the other nurses sadly put by the flags and trimmings, and the flowers and wreaths drooped and withered.
The next year, when the flowers were blooming over the silent little pioneer, all the baby carriages in town were put in commission at least a week before the Fourth. Every scrap of nickel plate was burnished to the highest degree of polish, and lingering roses on the later bushes were carefully guarded to preserve them to grace the occasion.
In the cool of the evening, when the small boys were about tired of exploding mines, disfiguring their faces, and making that awful din incident to the day, and were beginning to count up their sky-rockets, pin-wheels, and red lights, the gay procession moved down the broad flagged walk.
At the head was the pretty nurse who had originated the affair, pushing before her a wicker carriage trimmed with roses, and gay with flags and emblems and gilded stars, from the wheels to the lace-trimmed canopy. Nestling in its gorgeous carriage was a somewhat bewildered but very happy baby. A tiny boy, as guard of honor, accompanied each little carriage, carrying in his hand a wand to charm away stray fire-crackers from their path.
Porticoes and balconies were crowded with the babies' friends as the procession passed by and faded into a pretty recollection of silvery laughter, waving flags, crowing babies, and happy nurse-maids and children.
