"The Declaration of Independence? My grandfather, sir, was a signer!"
The one church bell (Baptist) and the two little fire bells were
jangling merrily when they reached the street. People were hurrying
towards the square; many of them were delegates from neighboring towns
who had accompanied their fire-engines to Port aux Pins on this, the
nation's birthday. White dresses were abundant; the favorite refreshment
was a lemon partially scooped out, the hollow filled with lemon candy.
When they reached the square Paul established Cicely on the top of a
fence, standing behind to steady her; and presently the procession
appeared, wheeling slowly in, and falling into position in a half-circle
before the main stand, the gayly decorated fire-engines in front, with
the Carnival of Venice and the Goddess of Liberty, one at each end. The
clergy, the mayor and common council, the orator of the day, were
escorted to their places on the stand, and the ceremonies opened.
By-and-by came the turn of Hollis. In a high voice he began:
"When in the _course_--of human _events_, it becomes necessary for one
people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with
_another_--"
"Cheer!" whispered Cicely to Paul.
Paul, entering into it, set up hurrahs with so much vigor that all the
people near him joined in patriotically, to the confusion of the reader,
who went on, however, as well as he could:
"We hold these _truths_--to be self-_evident_, that all men are created
_equal_--"
"Again," murmured Cicely.
And again Paul's corner burst forth irrepressibly, followed after a
moment by the entire assemblage, glad to be doing something in a vocal
way on their own account, and determined to have their money's worth of
everything, noise and all.
And so, from "the present king of Great Britain" to "our lives, our
forrchuns, and our sacrred _honor_" on it went, a chorus of hurrahs
growing louder and louder until they became roars.
"I knew it was you," Hollis said to Paul, when, later, his official
duties over, and his satin scarf removed, he appeared at the cottage to
talk it over.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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