The offer was made with such generosity of spirit that Ethel accepted. It was the Fourth-of-July, and we all ate peanuts together. I don’t think that James liked it. He felt that Minerva had not been well brought up. I am sure that he would not have asked us to eat peanuts, but I don’t see that any harm was done. There was no cloth spread and I have never yet come across a rule that says a lady of color on a giraffe should not offer peanuts to her mistress on the sidewalk of a New England town. Anyway the peanuts were good and we enjoyed them. We told James and Minerva to have a good time and to be ready to start for home at half past nine. There was to be a display of fireworks at eight, and I knew they would want to see that. It was somewhere in the neighbourhood of five o’clock when we left them and drove back to the stable. The fireworks display was beautiful, although not lavish. I listened for Minerva’s rapturous Ah’s, but did not hear them, and as the circle in which we sat was not more than an eighth of a mile in diameter, I judged that for some unaccountable reason she was not there. After the exhibition, which ended with a flight of a hundred rockets, one of which stove in a plate-glass window and so provided extra amusement for the crowd, we made our way to the stable, expecting to find James there, but he was not. We found our wagon under a shed and we climbed in and waited, as Ethel was tired of being on her feet. We waited until ten o’clock and James and Minerva did not come, so I asked a hostler to harness up, and telling him to keep James and Minerva if they came, we went forth to look for them. I had a theory as to where they were, and I drove to Doncaster street, whereon the merry-go-round stands. My instinct as to the whereabouts of the couple proved correct. There, under the flare of gasoline torches, whirled the merry-go-round, and now James was astride of an ostrich and Minerva, like Una, was riding a lion by his side and their hands were clasped in a firm, firm clasp. I caught the eye of James and signalled, and when the music came to an end and the machine stopped, he and his lady love dismounted. When we were all in the carriage Ethel said to Minerva, “How did you enjoy the fireworks?” She threw herself back in the seat with a gasp. “Lawdy, forgot all ’bout the fireworks.” “You don’t mean to say, Minerva, that you have been riding ever since we saw you this afternoon.” “’Deed we have. Rode every beas’ an’ bird there was.” “And what did you have for supper?” “Peanuts,” said James, rather shamefacedly.