The next scene exhibited, after long preparation, the body of the unfortunate Palmer hanging from a tree, suspended by his hands, with a rope conspicuously coiled around his neck. The Classic Muse again appeared, and took his position near by, while the American army in masks, with dark-lanterns and muffled drums, filed in softly, and formed a circle around the tree. "Friends!" said one of the band stepping forward, "I am Ethan Allen, and I cannot leave this man, although a British subject, suspended to this tree. We will bury him, friends, 'darkly, at dead of night, by the struggling moonbeams' misty light, and our lanterns dimly burning.'" The army agreed to these sentiments, and, deputing two of their number to act as bearers, marched away to the sound of the muffled drums. But the body, which had conveniently dropped to the ground in the meantime, proved too heavy for the bearers. John Chase, who had been thoughtlessly allowed to take the part of the Spy, was a particularly heavy boy, and the bearers pulled and tugged in vain. The army, absorbed in the muffled drums (each boy had one), was already at some distance, and the final tableau, in which the body took a part, was still to be enacted; the bearers made another effort, the perspiration rolled down their faces, but all in vain. There was nothing to be done but signal to the Classic Muse to come forward and help. He hastily tucked up his robes and took hold. With his aid the spy was hurried after the retreating army, reaching it just in time to spring to his feet under the flag-staff where floated the Star-Spangled Banner, Red, White, and Blue, and exclaim fervently, "Fellow-citizens, I am not dead! Behold me a changed man! From this moment I am a true and loyal patriot. Long live the Sword of Bunker Hill!" As the resuscitated spy uttered these words, the army formed an effective tableau around him, and the Classic Muse, still breathless from his late exertions, waved his laurel-wreath in the foreground, and struck up the "Star-Spangled Banner," in which the audience joined with enthusiasm. The patriotic drama being over, great applause ensued, and then the army was invited in to lunch in Aunt Faith's cool dining-room; here ice-cream, cakes, and other camp-dishes were provided in great abundance, the soldiers stacked arms, and seemed to enjoy themselves as easily as private citizens. The numerous young sisters of the B. B.'s gradually forgot their shyness, and the afternoon was spent in games and merriment,--the Old Stone House being entirely given up to the young folks early in the evening, when the weary warriors departed. "It's been a splendid Fourth!" said Tom, throwing himself into a chair when the last guests had taken their departure; "I wish we could have such fun every day!" "If you had it every day you would soon be tired of it," said Aunt Faith smiling.