Children's stories, English; Fairy tales; Short stories, English
Whizz! Whizz! went the Catherine Wheel, as she spun round and round.
Boom! Boom! went the Roman Candle. Then the Squibs danced all over the
place, and the Bengal Lights made everything look scarlet. "Good-bye,"
cried the Fire-balloon as he soared away, dropping tiny blue sparks.
Bang! Bang! answered the Crackers, who were enjoying themselves
immensely. Every one was a great success except the Remarkable Rocket.
He was so damp with crying that he could not go off at all. The best
thing in him was the gunpowder, and that was so wet with tears that it
was of no use. All his poor relations, to whom he would never speak,
except with a sneer, shot up into the sky like wonderful golden flowers
with blossoms of fire. Huzza! Huzza! cried the Court; and the little
Princess laughed with pleasure.
"I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion," said the
Rocket; "no doubt that is what it means," and he looked more
supercilious than ever.
[Illustration: "LET THE FIREWORKS BEGIN," SAID THE KING]
The next day the workmen came to put everything tidy. "This is evidently
a deputation," said the Rocket; "I will receive them with becoming
dignity": so he put his nose in the air, and began to frown severely as
if he were thinking about some very important subject. But they took no
notice of him at all till they were just going away. Then one of them
caught sight of him. "Hallo!" he cried, "what a bad rocket!" and he
threw him over the wall into the ditch.
"BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?" he said, as he whirled through the air;
"impossible! GRAND Rocket, that is what the man said. BAD and GRAND
sound very much the same, indeed they often are the same;" and he fell
into the mud.
"It is not comfortable here," he remarked, "but no doubt it is some
fashionable watering-place, and they have sent me away to recruit my
health. My nerves are certainly very much shattered, and I require
rest."
Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled coat,
swam up to him.
"A new arrival, I see!" said the Frog. "Well, after all there is nothing
like mud. Give me rainy weather and a ditch, and I am quite happy. Do
you think it will be a wet afternoon? I am sure I hope so, but the sky
is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity!"
"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket, and he began to cough.
"What a delightful voice you have!" cried the Frog. "Really it is quite
like a croak, and croaking is of course the most musical sound in the
world. You will hear our glee-club this evening. We sit in the old duck
pond close by the farmer's house, and as soon as the moon rises we
begin. It is so entrancing that everybody lies awake to listen to us.
In fact, it was only yesterday that I heard the farmer's wife say to her
mother that she could not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us.
It is most gratifying to find oneself so popular."
"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket angrily. He was very much annoyed that he
could not get a word in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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