They went on, Ralph and Ruth, arm in arm, and the crowd followed. The moon came out in regal splendor as they reached the bridge. It was Schwarmer's bridge that the corporation had built for him. It had a lamp on each end, making it light enough to read the names on the boxes without difficulty. There was a large assortment of patriotic death-dealers such as the bill had shown--and more too. In a bundle tied up separately they found some choice specimens such as Powdered Crackers, Sacred Mandarins, Aaron's Rod, Yankee Doodle Doos, and Giant Torpedos. "These were for the large boys," said Ralph. "Truly Mr. Schwarmer was going to give every boy in Killsbury a glorious chance to kill himself this year." "Do you suppose that any of those boxes could possibly be fished out?" asked Ruth after the last box had gone over the falls. "Hardly," laughed Ralph. "I never heard of anything being fished out that went over the falls into the deep hole at the foot. Some say it goes through to China. If it did it would be serving old China right--sending their vicious wares back to them." "And a curious reminder to John Chinaman if it be true that he uses the American Missionaries' tracts in the construction of firecrackers for the American market," said Father Ferrill. "At any rate we have the consolation of knowing that this batch of powder will be too wet to do any damage this Fourth. The City Fathers can get their ordinance in perfect working order before the next--so perfect that no miracle will be needed to help them out. Cromwell's order to his soldiers was to 'trust in the Lord and keep their powder dry.' Lord grant that we may trust in His Holy Name and keep our powder wet." It was a reversion of the brutal saying that has been taught in military schools for more than a century, and it sounded like a benediction to Ruth as she took Ralph's arm and turned away with a thankful heart. They walked on in lover-like silence until Ruth broke out in her enthused way: "Do you know, Ralph, I just love Father Ferrill!" "Hold on there! Not too much of that, Ruth!" "But I _do_ love him very much! He's so good and wise. Wasn't it splendid his re-version of Cromwell's order?" "Yes, Ruth, it was very apt, but you are not to love him." "Hush, Ralph! you ought to be ashamed of yourself." But it was honey-moon time and Ralph was not ashamed either of his words or actions on that charmed occasion. He finally admitted, however, after sundry concessions from Ruth that Father Ferrill was a very fine man, and that his re-version of the old Cromwellian adage had given him a new idea on the subject of adages. "What is it, Ralph?" "Tell it not to the professional litterateur or the dusty book-worm, Ruth; but the idea is that all those brutal old sayings that have been handed down to us from warring ages need to be revised or done away with as badly as the old brutal customs of which they were born. 'In times of peace prepare for war,' is another old serpent."