"Why, when they put off that big piece of 'General Washington on his Horse,'and the crowd were all 'Ohs' and 'Ahs' over it, I thought, 'If mamma could only be here!' for 'twas so much grander than I expected; and then to look up, and see not only her, but papa and Colonel Yale, each holding up one of the twins, why, I just joined in the hip-hip-hurrah with all my might." "The twins' verdict of the day wasn't bad?" "What was it?" "That they didn't believe anybody could ever have a better _Fourth o' Ju' New-Years_." [Illustration: GRANDPA'S DRUM.--DRAWN BY J. E. KELLY.] [Illustration: YOUNG SOLDIERS.--"CHARGE BAYONETS!"] FOURTH OF JULY IN KERIM. BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD. "Now, you boys, what on airth are you a-doin' with that there ellum?" "Is that you, Squire Garnsey?" responded a very youthful voice from the darkness, many feet above the pile of rubbish at the foot of the tree, and against which more was at that moment heaping. "Now, Squire, don't you think this dead wood has stood here long enough?" "What are you a-doin' with it?" "We're going to let all Kerim know Fourth of July's come, quick as it strikes twelve." "That's it, is it? I declare! what a swarm of 'em there is, and how they do work! Never saw the like of it. It's a fact, though, that old dead ellum's been an eye-sore on the green these three year." It was not far from the centre of the broad but somewhat ill-kept open space in the middle of the village of Kerim, and the fact of its deadness may have been due to its use as a hitching-post for country people coming to church on Sundays, and for the academy boys to try their knives on of week-days. It was about thirty feet high, but it had never borne any fruit. Elms rarely do, but there were boys enough in that one now. "Squire Garnsey," piped another voice at his elbow, "they're a-greasin' the tree so's it'll burn good." "I declare! And I kem out here on purpose to put a stop to bonfirin'. It'll make the tallest kind of a blaze, it will." He was a tall man himself, and broad-shouldered, and grim-faced, but he was puzzled for once. What should he do? All the great men of Kerim had solemnly decided that there should be no Fourth of July that year; no fire-works; no bonfires; no parade; no cannonading; no anything. People with too much patriotism were free to go over to Plumville, three miles east, and join the goings on there; but Kerim was to be a quiet village all day. The boys had not been taken into that council of great men. Not one of them had been permitted to utter his voice in it; but they all uttered as much voice as they had as soon as the tyrannical decision was made public. Even now another of the shadowy speakers in the dead elm-tree defiantly announced: "Yes, sir. We've been a-gatherin' of grease and tar and things these three weeks. It's after 'leven o'clock, now. Just you wait and see."