"What's the use of jeering?" he said. "You don't know whether he'll make much noise or not. The chances are he'll make more noise than a great many of you Crackers, who are just as likely as not to turn out sissers in the long-run." The Fire crackers were very much abashed by the Rocket's rebuke, and retired shamefacedly into their various packs, whereupon the Pin Wheel suggested that the Rocket recite his poem telling the singular story of Nate and the Rocket. "Would you like to hear that story, Jimmieboy?" asked the Rocket. "Very much," said Jimmieboy. "The name of it sounds interesting." "Well, I'll try to tell it. It's pretty long, and your ears are short; but we can try it, as the boy observed to the man who said he didn't think the boy's mouth was large enough to hold four pieces of strawberry short-cake. So here goes. The real title of the poem is "THE DREADFUL FATE OF NAUGHTY NATE. "Way back in eighty-two or three-- I don't recall the date-- There lived somewhere--'twixt you and me, I really can't locate The place exact; say Sangaree-- A lad; we'll call him Nate. "His father was a grocer, or A banker, or maybe He kept a thriving candy store, For all that's known to me. Perhaps he was the Governor Of Maine or Floridee. "At any rate, he had a dad-- Or so the story's told; Most youngsters that I've known have had-- And Nate's had stacks of gold, And those who knew him used to add, He spent it free and bold. "If Nate should ask his father for A dollar or a cent, His father'd always give him more Than for to get he went; And then, before the day was o'er, Nate always had it spent. "Molasses taffy, circus, cake, Tarts, soda-water, pie, Hot butter-scotch, or rare beefsteak, Or silk hats, Nate could buy. His father'd never at him shake His head and ask him 'Why?' "'For but one thing,' his father cried, 'You must not spend your store; Sky-rockets I cannot abide, So buy them never more. Let such, I pray, be never spied Inside of my front door.' "But Nate, alas! did not obey His father's orders wise. He hied him forth without delay, Ignoring tarts and pies, And bought a rocket huge, size A, 'The Monarch of the Skies.' "He clasped it tightly to his breast, And smiled a smile of glee; And as the sun sank in the west, He sat beneath a tree, And then the rocket he invest- I-g-a-t-e-d. "Alas for Nate! The night was warm; June-bugs and great fire-flies Around about his head did swarm; The mercury did rise; And then a fine electric storm Played havoc in the skies. "Now if, perchance, it was a fly, I'm not prepared to say; Or if 'twas lightning from the sky, That came along that way; Or if 'twas only brought on by The heat of that warm day,