As I went downstairs I heard my father say:-- "It's raining, I think,--put on your rubber coat." Rain! How would the fire-crackers like that? Outside I found Ed and Jimmy. They were rather silent, but inclined to be contemptuous because I was late. They had been fiddling around in the garden for some minutes, waiting for me. Jimmy had an umbrella, and did not look very happy. We went out to the front of the house, and sat down on the door-steps. Jimmy had his box of fire-crackers (which he managed with difficulty on account of the umbrella), while Ed Mason had his crackers in a canvas bag. Owing to the breeze, which was rather brisk, we had some trouble in lighting the slow-match. Just as we got it going the rain began to fall in a smart shower. There was nothing for it but to retreat inside the house once more. This was a pretty sort of Fourth of July! The possibility of such an inconsiderate act on the part of Heaven had never occurred to us. Could it be that they did not know, up there, what day this was? It was a little dull in the house. Jimmy and I both fell asleep, and so, I think, did Ed Mason, though he denied it. Fortunately I found some raspberry turnovers in the pantry, and they helped alleviate our sufferings. Shortly before breakfast the rain stopped, and the sun came feebly out. We were soon in the street once more, creating a racket that left nothing to be desired. Joe and Charley Carter joined us, and so did Rob Currier and Peter Bailey. Peter had a revolver, and he scorned fire-crackers. The Rev. Mr. Dimmick, who lived across the street, stood on the steps of his dwelling and beamed upon us. He looked as if he would like to celebrate, too. Mr. Dimmick was a minister, which was too bad, because he was such a good ball-player. Charley Carter had an enormous cannon cracker, and when he started to touch it off, Mr. Dimmick called out:-- "Wait a minute,--you ought to have something to put over that,--a box, or a can, or something." "I wish I had!" said Charley; "let me take that cigar-box, Jimmy?" "I've got just the thing," shouted the minister; "I'll get it." And he vanished into the house. Presently he came out again with a shining tin box. They lighted the cannon cracker, clapped the box over it, and ran. Bang! went the cracker, and the box shot straight up in the air. "Jiminy!" said Joe Carter, "'twon't never come down!" It looked as if it wouldn't. It went up above the houses, above the trees, even. Then it started to fall, and as it did so a funny thing happened. For the seams of the box had all been blown apart, and only its swift upward rush had kept them together. As soon as it started on its downward trip, they flew apart, and the box struck the earth, a flat sheet of tin,--flat as a fritter. Just then Mrs. Dimmick came to the door. "James," she said, "I can't find my new cake tin,--have you seen it?"