They didn't know what to do, these poor boys who wanted to be patriots that morning and couldn't. They sat down disconsolately near to the heels of Julius Caesar, who was whisking his stubby tail about occasionally in vengeful search of an occasional fly. It chanced that in the midst of this he slapped Cocoanut across the face, and that Cocoanut incontinently grabbed the tail, to keep it from further demonstration of the sort. Julius Caesar did not kick at this, because it was too trifling a matter. Far better would it have been for Julius Caesar had he kicked then and there, but the relation of why comes later on. Lost in their sorrows, Cocoanut and Billy communed together, and Cocoanut, in the forgetfulness of deep reflection began plaiting together the end of the string of firecrackers and the hairs in the tail of Julius Caesar. He was a good plaiter, was Cocoanut--they do such work with grasses and things in and about Honolulu, and lots of little Hawaiians are good plaiters--and it may be said of the job that when completed, although done almost unconsciously, it was a good one. That string of thirty-seven and one-half feet of firecrackers was not going to leave the tail of that little jackass except under most extraordinary circumstances. A fly of exceptional vigor assaulted Julius Caesar upon the flank, and his tail not whisking as well as usual, because of the incumbrance, he missed the enemy at the first swish and moved uneasily forward for several feet. As it chanced, this movement left the other string of firecrackers fairly in the lap of Cocoanut. The boys were still discussing the situation. "It's too bad; it's too bad," said Billy. "What'll we do?" "I don't know," said Cocoanut. "Do you think we dare let 'em off even if the flag didn't fly?" said Billy. "I don't know," said Cocoanut. "I believe I'll get on Julius Caesar and ride a little," said Billy, "and you throw stones at him and hit him if you can. It's pretty hard to make him run, you know." "All right," said Cocoanut. Billy rose and wandered over and mounted Julius Caesar, Cocoanut barely turning his head and watching the white boy lazily as Billy gathered up the bridle, which was the only equipment Julius Caesar had. It was then, just as Billy had fairly settled himself down, that an inspiration came to Cocoanut. "Lemme let off just one little cracker," he said. "Mebbe it'll start Julius Caesar a-going," and Billy joyously assented. Now Cocoanut had never seen the effect which a whole string of firecrackers can produce. He had assisted in firing one or two little ones, and that was all he knew about it. Billy didn't know that the string of firecrackers was attached to the tail of Julius Caesar, and Cocoanut himself had absolutely forgotten it. Cocoanut produced a match and lit it and carefully ignited the thin, papery end of the ultimate little cracker on the string, and it smoked away and nickered and sputtered toward its object.