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diff --git a/39479-h/39479-h.htm b/39479-h/39479-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8b81ecf --- /dev/null +++ b/39479-h/39479-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6374 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Independence Day Horror at Killsbury, by Asenath Carver Coolidge + </title> + + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + body {margin-left: 12%; margin-right: 12%;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right; font-style: normal;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + + hr {width: 33%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .giant {font-size: 200%} + .huge {font-size: 150%} + + .poem {margin-left: 15%;} + .caption {text-align: center; font-size: small;} + .title {text-align: center; font-size: 150%;} + + .right {text-align: right;} + .center {text-align: center;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; color: gray; margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + p.dropcap:first-letter{float: left; padding-right: 3px; font-size: 250%; line-height: 83%; width:auto;} + .caps {text-transform:uppercase;} + + a:link {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:#6633cc; text-decoration:none} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Independence Day Horror at Killsbury, by +Asenath Carver Coolidge + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Independence Day Horror at Killsbury + +Author: Asenath Carver Coolidge + +Illustrator: Cassius M. Coolidge + +Release Date: April 19, 2012 [EBook #39479] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDEPENDENCE DAY HORROR--KILLSBURY *** + + + + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> + +<h1><small>The Independence Day Horror<br />at Killsbury</small></h1> + +<p> </p><p><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> </p> + +<div class="bbox" style="width: 381px; height: 500px;"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">BOSTON HARBOR STYLE.</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="giant">The Independence Day<br /> +Horror<br /> +At Killsbury</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>By</i> <span class="huge">Asenath Carver Coolidge</span><br /> +Author of “The Modern Blessing, Fire”<br /> +and many other short stories<br /> +and poems</p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><i>Illustrated by</i><br /> +<span class="huge">Cassius M. Coolidge</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p class="center">Watertown, N. Y.:<br /> +Hungerford-Holbrook Company.<br /> +1905</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center">Copyrighted 1905<br /> +By <span class="smcap">Asenath Carver Coolidge</span><br /> +<br /> +Published April, 1905</p> + +<p> </p> +<p class="center">HUNGERFORD-HOLBROOK CO.,<br /> +WATERTOWN, N. Y.</p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<p class="center"><strong>Dedicated</strong><br /> +<i>To my Grandmother, Asenath Carver Townsend<br /> +a descendent of John and Mary Carver<br /> +who came to America to escape persecution<br /> +for their religious belief<br /> +which would not permit<br /> +them to countenance war<br /> +or its vain-glorious<br /> +celebrations</i></p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> +<h2>Preface</h2> + + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">The</span> world is a dangerous place to live in, especially for helpless and +innocent children. Wise parents are sadly aware of this fact and have +always been striving to make it less dangerous. That this was no small +task even in the beginning is easy enough to be seen; for there were +poison fruits and reptiles and savage beasts to contend with; but it was +light indeed compared with the parental task of today, when the monsters +of militarism and greed are abroad, planting their danger-traps in the +pathway of unwary feet.</p> + +<p>In our own country Independence Day has proved to be their golden harvest. +The freedom given to small boys on this day makes them easy victims to the +tempters’ wiles, who under the treacherous guise of patriotism have seized +upon them more and more every year, until the list of the dead and wounded +has assumed appalling proportions. Still there is little talk of doing +away with this hideous slaughter; while there is “big talk” about “race +suicide,” and an appeal to mothers to bring forth more sons to supply the +nation’s need.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span>The nation’s need! What need, we ask in God’s name, has this nation of +three or four thousand boys to sacrifice annually on our country’s altar? +Let the mothers answer. Let them demand that this country be made a fit +place for children to live in. That the ten million now spent annually for +their destruction, be used for their benefit. If only one half of this +amount were used rightly what a change would come over the face of this +continent! Every town, however small, would have its pretty park for the +children to play in without fear and trembling. There would be flowers and +music—true and gentle music that takes the savagery out of the human +heart instead of filling it with savage impulses. Music that would not +drown the voices of the birds, but inspire them to sing their rarest +songs. Music that would not wound the ears of the tenderest babes but seem +to them like a mother’s softest lullaby; to which it is easy to fancy that +God’s birds, the angels, are delighted to listen.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Asenath Carver Coolidge.</span></span></p> + +<p><i>Antwerp, N. Y., April, 1905.</i></p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> +<p class="title">CONTENTS</p> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td><small>CHAPTER.</small></td> + <td> </td> + <td align="right"><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td> + <td>Preface</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_vii">vii.</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I.</a></td> + <td>The Cornwallis Cottage</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II.</a></td> + <td>The Round About Road to Schwarmer Mansion</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III.</a></td> + <td>The Alarm</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV.</a></td> + <td>Risus Sardonicus</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V.</a></td> + <td>Insanity or Exile</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_49">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI.</a></td> + <td>The Funny Fourth Racket on English Soil</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII.</a></td> + <td>The Double Engagement</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII.</a></td> + <td>Dr. Muelenberg’s Prescription</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX.</a></td> + <td>The Bridal Trip</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X.</a></td> + <td>A Public Meeting—Statistics and Resolutions</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_87">87</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI.</a></td> + <td>Appeal Instead of Prohibition</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_101">101</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII.</a></td> + <td>A Good Celebration—Adelaide Schwarmer and Ruth’s Dog</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_114">114</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII.</a></td> + <td>Alfonso Bombs’ Pyrotechnics and Adelaide Schwarmer’s Blame</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV.</a></td> + <td>Schwarmer’s Threatened Arrest</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_140">140</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV.</a></td> + <td>The Killsbury Women Arrest Themselves</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI.</a></td> + <td>The Effect of Ruth’s Speech</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII.</a></td> + <td>The Query—Ruth’s Dog Dombey Brings Her a Note</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII.</a></td> + <td>Mr. Bombs’ Disgust with Chicago and the Pyro-King’s Plans</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX.</a></td> + <td>Schwarmer Does a Little Hustling on Adelaide’s Account—A Fourth of July Bugle</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">XX.</a></td> + <td>The Dedication of the Library</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_203">203</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">XXI.</a></td> + <td>Adelaide Stays at Home with Her Father</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">XXII.</a></td> + <td>A Wonderful Change in Killsbury</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">XXIII.</a></td> + <td>Mr. Bombs Tells All He Knows About Laurens Cornwallis’ Mysterious Death</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_238">238</a></td></tr></table> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></p> +<p class="title">Illustrations</p> + +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td> </td><td align="right"><small>PAGE.</small></td></tr> +<tr><td>Boston Harbor Style</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#frontis"><i>Frontispiece.</i></a></td></tr> +<tr><td>The Funny Fourth Racket on English Soil</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_63">62</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>Going to Visit the President</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_83">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“A Feast is Better than Firecrackers”</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_119">118</a></td></tr> +<tr><td>“Fire, Fire!” Cried a Voice</td> + <td align="right"><a href="#Page_134">134</a></td></tr></table> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span></p> + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<p class="center"><span class="giant">The Independence Day Horror at Killsbury</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> +<p class="title">THE CORNWALLIS COTTAGE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">It</span> was Independence Day. The sun rose gorgeously. The air was electric and +inspiring. Blossoming plants were exhaling rare fragrance. The forests and +rivers were palpitating with glad, soft sounds and gentle fervor. The +birds were singing jubilantly, and various forms of living things were +alert and antic. Yes, it was “Independence Day in the morning” as the +Killsbury boys called it. It was full of glorious promise—the list of the +dead and wounded had not as yet come in!</p> + +<p>Apparently there were not half a dozen people in the town who would have +admitted that there would be any casualties on the day that had dawned so +beautifully; although there had been an increasing number of them every +year since Millionaire Schwarmer had come and built his mansion on “The +Hill” and decorated its brow with a big-mouthed cannon.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>The cannon began to boom as soon as the sun appeared above the horizon. It +continued to boom industriously as though it were determined to wake up +every citizen in Killsbury and the surrounding country to the important +fact that “Independence Day had really and truly and unmistakably dawned,” +as Captain Dan Solomon facetiously remarked. It was a fact that would have +been well known and appreciated, at least by every inmate of the +Cornwallis Cottage, even though there had been no cannon on Schwarmer Hill +to vomit it forth; for the reason that the sole son of the house, Laurens +Angelo Cornwallis, had been born on that day.</p> + +<p>Little Laurens Angelo Cornwallis was the most beautiful boy in Killsbury, +“or the whole world,” averred the Reverend Dr. Normander, who had baptised +him and had traveled the world nearly enough over to make a correct +estimate with regard to the part that remained. Yes, and he was as good +and bright as he was beautiful—the joy of his mother, the pride of his +father and to his sister Ruth the “dear angel,” as she called him, so it +goes without saying that his birthday would have been celebrated with due +love and honor even if he had not been born on Independence Day; although +there might not have been such a showing of red, white and blue—probably +no more than one American flag, with an English and French flag lovingly +intertwined (for Mr. Cornwallis was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> of English descent and his wife of +French descent) whereas now there were flags on the four corners of the +cottage, and over all the doors and windows both inside and outside and a +generous display of bunting everywhere.</p> + +<p>“A double quantity” as Mr. Cornwallis was wont to ask for when he bought a +new supply of colors.</p> + +<p>“One half to celebrate our boy’s birthday and the other half to celebrate +our Nation’s birthday. You see we don’t intend to be partial.”</p> + +<p>And when the shopman, who inclined to think that love of one’s own country +meant hate of all other countries, remarked “there are some who say that +we should love our country more than our wives and children,” Mr. +Cornwallis replied:</p> + +<p>“I haven’t got to that point yet and I doubt if I ever shall. I don’t +intend to make burnt sacrifices on any altar.”</p> + +<p>While he was arranging the flags the Reverend Dr. Normander called.</p> + +<p>“You see, Doctor, I love Mother England and Sister France very well +indeed, but I love America supremely.”</p> + +<p>“Yes I <i>see</i>,” replied Dr. Normander, “and I know it is very easy to love +our own country; but to love other countries equally well—in other words +to love our neighbors <i>as</i> ourselves—there’s the rub, Mr. Cornwallis.”</p> + +<p>“I recognize the beauty of equality, Doctor,” laughed Mr. Cornwallis, “and +I think I might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> able to love other countries as well as my own country +after a great deal of practice and very possibly, my neighbor as well as +myself, but I fear I could never love my neighbor’s boy as well as I love +my own boy. I hope I am taking a step in the right direction when I pay +equal honor to my country’s birthday and to his.”</p> + +<p>Little Ruth caught her father’s spirit as by infection. Every Fourth of +July she arose as soon as the cannon began to boom and running out into +the dewy or rainy garden, whichever it happened to be, she picked two +great bunches of red and white flowers and arranged them in two blue vases +and put one at the end of the table where mamma sat and the other at the +end where papa sat in honor of the two birthdays.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cornwallis made a new patriotic suit for her darling boy each year. +This year it was a quaint George Washington suit in red, white and blue +with a cute Can’t-tell-a-lie cap, all spangled with stars.</p> + +<p>After breakfast was over, she spread the suit out on the bed in her room. +She was going to give her boy a bath preparatory to putting it on.</p> + +<p>The cannon on Schwarmer Hill began to boom again just as Laurens was +stepping into his little bath tub. The boy shivered.</p> + +<p>“What makes you shiver so, Laurens? Is the water too cold?” asked his +mother.</p> + +<p>“O no, mamma! It’s the cannon I’m shivering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> at. It made the house shiver. +What makes them have it so awful loud?”</p> + +<p>“So as to be sure and make everybody hear, Laurens.”</p> + +<p>“I think a bugle would be better, mamma.”</p> + +<p>“So do I, my boy, but I suppose Mr. Schwarmer doesn’t.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid of Mr. Schwarmer, mamma. He gave Benny Horton something that +blew his eye out last Fourth.”</p> + +<p>“So am I, my boy. Fireworks are not fit for little boys to handle. They +smell bad, they are bad, dangerous and noisy.”</p> + +<p>She was rubbing his white satiny skin with her soft hands. She stopped +short and added:</p> + +<p>“If he ever offers you any, you will refuse to take them, and you will +tell him what mamma says about them, won’t you darling?”</p> + +<p>He threw his arms around her neck and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“Yes, mamma, I will. You don’t want your little boy to have his eyes put +out, do you?” he said pathetically.</p> + +<p>“No indeed, Laurens,” cried the mother turning around to get his new pants +and brush away a tear.</p> + +<p>“Mamma, the gardener said my old pants were holy. What did he mean?”</p> + +<p>“He meant you had worn holes in them, Laurens?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>“What did the Sunday-school teacher mean when she said the war we are +going to celebrate today was a holy war? Did she mean we had worn holes in +it? Worn it out?”</p> + +<p>“No,” laughed Mamma, “she meant it was a war to make the English give us +our own things just as you would fight if a dog should try to eat up your +dinner.”</p> + +<p>“O mamma, I would give poor doggy my dinner if he were hungry,” said +Laurens, with tears in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know you would, my darling, but if you were hungry and he would +not let you have any, what then?”</p> + +<p>“I would pet and coax him, mamma, until he let me have some.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cornwallis gave up the argument and hugged and kissed her boy to her +heart’s content. But Laurens did not give it up so easily. When she was +fastening his ruffled shirt front with her beautiful sapphire buttons +which were a part of his father’s wedding gift, he touched her on the +forehead and said:</p> + +<p>“Please tell me, mamma, what kind of animals the English are? Bridget +calls them ‘Johnny Bulls.’ Do they look like our bulls?”</p> + +<p>“No, no, my child. They look like ourselves. Like your papa. Your +grandpapa came from England when he was a little boy about your age.”</p> + +<p>“O mamma! You don’t know how s’prised I am.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> I thought the English were a +sort of bulls—dangerous bulls, that pitched into our grandpas with their +horns and they had to kill them or be hooked to death.”</p> + +<p>“No, Laurens, they were men, but they wronged us.”</p> + +<p>“I think it would be awful to kill anybody just for that, mamma.”</p> + +<p>“So it seems to you now, my boy, but when you have grown to be a man—” +she hesitated. A sudden fear shot through her heart. Was it that she was +not teaching him quite right, or was it that of an impending sorrow? Then +she added with a sigh: “The Lord only knows, Laurens. I hope you may think +the same; but I fear you will think quite differently.”</p> + +<p>Later on his toilet was finished and a miniature George Washington stood +before her looking up into her face with the Can’t-tell-a-lie expression +so dear to her heart.</p> + +<p>“There, you may go now and get your kite. Ruth must have gotten the +streamers all tied on by this time.”</p> + +<p>He ran to his sister’s room, and she put the beautiful new kite that Ralph +Norwood had made on purpose for him, into his chubby little hand and +watched him in an ecstacy of admiration as he ran down through the garden +and out into the big sunny field where he was going to make it fly.</p> + +<p>Then she went into mamma’s room; for they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> were going to take each of them +a sweet, sweet bath and make everything ready for the beautiful home +celebration. The table was to be loaded with refreshments that were truly +refreshing for a hot day, and little Laurens was to have a birthday cake +with eight roses (to tell how old he was) circling around a tiny flag on a +tiny staff made of a goose-quill in imitation of the famous one with which +the American Declaration of Independence was signed.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Dr. Normander and family were to be there and Ralph Norwood +and his brothers. They would have music and singing and the children might +play at fort-building out in the fragrant garden; but they would have no +“nasty fireworks,” as Mrs. Cornwallis called them.</p> + +<p>She was a true Frenchwoman in her tastes, although truly American in +education, and would not have the sweet smelling plot of ground on which +she had spent so much of her spare time, turned into a pit of +vile-smelling powder and brimstone. She resolutely maintained that she +could show her intense patriotism in better, safer, and more odorous ways. +And she did it to the entire satisfaction of everybody in Killsbury unless +it might be Millionaire Schwarmer who came to his mansion on The Hill +every Fourth of July, boomed his cannon and distributed free fireworks +among the boys of the town, “in grateful remembrance,” he said, “of the +fact that he was born there.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>Mrs. Cornwallis said to her husband that it was a pity he could not show +his gratitude in more agreeable and useful ways, but she did not say so in +public or brood over it in private. She was a very busy housewife and +devoted mother and had no time to cultivate even the necessary grievances.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis was in sympathy with his wife’s opinions; but as yet it had +not occurred to him that free fireworks, (like free whiskey) were any +worse for the town than those that were regularly bought and paid for. As +to the legal restrictions necessary with regard to the sale and +manufacture of explosives for the celebration of our national day, he was +beginning to be very outspoken.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> +<p class="title">THE ROUND ABOUT ROAD TO SCHWARMER MANSION.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">There</span> were two roads leading up to the Schwarmer Mansion from the town of +Killsbury. One of them was called “The Straight Way” and the other “The +Round About Road.” The latter followed the steep declivity that led down +to the river’s edge and passed the big lot that belonged to the Cornwallis +grounds.</p> + +<p>“Guess I’d better take the ‘Round About’ with all that heavy baggage of +yours, Mr. Schwarmer,” said Captain Dan Solomon, the expressman at the +station. “There’s a loose board in the bridge on the ‘Straight Way’ that +my filly don’t exactly approve of.”</p> + +<p>“Just as you choose, Dan,” replied Mr. Schwarmer. “It doesn’t make a +cent’s worth of difference to me, most assuredly it doesn’t. How long +before you’ll be around?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as I can. Things are a little irregular today, you know.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>“Certainly! certainly Dan! Independence Day is every dog’s day, most +assuredly it is; and business concerns are apt to move rather +circuitously. Fons,” he added, turning to a youthful looking lad at his +side, “suppose we take ‘The Round About,’ since there’s no carriage and we +have to walk. We might as well make it worth while, you know. I haven’t +walked around that way for years, most assuredly I haven’t.”</p> + +<p>Fons assented and they walked on at a brisk pace.</p> + +<p>“How many of those patriotic packages have you, Fons?”</p> + +<p>“If you mean my improvements on ‘The Sacred Mandarin,’” laughed Fons, “I +have enough yet to hold up the town, although I left a good sprinkling of +them at every station and sowed them about six deep among the employees +while you were hunting up Dan. I’m going to advertise in earnest this +time.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ve got half a dozen. That will be enough. We won’t be apt to meet +more than one or two boys after we branch off if we do any. They didn’t +expect me on this train. Most assuredly they didn’t; but they’ll flock up +to the gates in due time—by the time Dan gets there I reckon.”</p> + +<p>They went on, distributing fire-crackers and blank cartridges to every boy +they met and every poor looking fellow also.</p> + +<p>When they got to the Cornwallis lot Fons espied little Laurens in the +distance flying his kite.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>“Heigho! what +gay little patriotic bird is that?” exclaimed Fons. “He’s worth the ammunition.”</p> + +<p>Schwarmer stopped and put on his gold-rimmed magnifiers.</p> + +<p>“That’s little Laurens Cornwallis—the handsomest boy in Killsbury or the +world, they say. You’ve heard me speak of the Cornwallis’s, most assuredly +you have. They are not eminently patriotic, I suspect, though they display +the colors. We’ll see how the eaglet stands affected toward his country +this morning.”</p> + +<p>Schwarmer went to the fence and beckoned the boy to come to him.</p> + +<p>Laurens came on a little distance but stopped when he recognized +Schwarmer.</p> + +<p>“Come on, my pretty” said Schwarmer, “I will give you a nice new box of +powdered crackers to help you celebrate. You can make them go off without +the aid of the fickle wind.”</p> + +<p>Laurens shook his curly head vigorously. “I don’t want any. I told mamma I +would not touch Mr. Schwarmer’s fire-things.” Then he turned and ran away +from them as fast as his little legs could carry him.</p> + +<p>“How’s that for frankness?” sneered Fons as they moved on. “It beats you +who are a professional, ‘all the way to Buzzard’s Bay,’ as the boys say.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and it looks rather dull for your trade,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> Fons,” laughed Schwarmer +rather derisively. “Perhaps you had better put your inventive genius into +some other business. It’s pretty poor encouragement when you can’t even +give away your productions. Most assuredly it is.”</p> + +<p>“It’s doubtful policy to begin at the church door,” said Fons. “More stars +and stripes and fewer fireworks is the church idea. I never see such a boy +as that—with a regular Sunday School look and eyes rolled up—without +wanting to call him down. The most beautiful Laurens needs a giant +firecracker and a dynamite cap and cane to bring him down to the proper +altitude. They don’t teach fire and brimstone in the churches now, so it’s +necessary for the youngsters to get a smell of it from the outside.”</p> + +<p>“Military slang aside, Fons. His mother is cosseting him and making a sort +of an inspired idiot of him, most assuredly she is. He <i>is</i> a beauty—too +much of a beauty for a boy; but he will never be fit for business. But +mothers never think of things in a business way and Mrs. Cornwallis is the +main spoke in Cornwallis’ wheel, most assuredly she is.”</p> + +<p>“A wheel of domesticity all around I should judge,” laughed Fons. +“Cornwallis is no business man.”</p> + +<p>“No, Fons—only a counter of other men’s gains—no independent +money-maker, so to speak. He would refuse to make money in your kind of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +business or mine either. He makes a terrible hullabaloo every time a +little ragamuffin gets hurt with blank cartridges or toy pistols. He wants +the manufactories shut down at once. He’d rather take the risk of having +six youngsters starved to death, than to have one die of lockjaw.”</p> + +<p>“I should say he ought to have the lockjaw himself and any other man who +uses his jaw for the repression of legitimate trade. Faugh! we’ve no use +for such effeminates on this end of the planet where more big +manufactories are needed to keep it well balanced. I should like to see +<i>his</i> jaw locked up.”</p> + +<p>“O no! not quite so bad as that, Fons.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, worse than that,” continued Fons angrily. “Shut up our own +manufactories and send abroad for Fourth of July fireworks! That’s the +kind of business fiend or fool he is—send to the English for things to +celebrate our victory over them. Bah!”</p> + +<p>“But we never have, Fons—that is to any ridiculous extent—any alarming +extent, so to speak?”</p> + +<p>“But we will if the idiots that would <i>shut down</i> our Pyrotechnic +manufactories are not <i>shut up</i>. The London Pyro-king is trying to king it +here now by catering to the Independence Day sentiment. He hates it, but +he is going to coin money out of it all the same—the viper!”</p> + +<p>“Head him off, then! Rule him out! We ought to manufacture our own +implements—especially<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> the patriotic ones and handle them too and teach +our boys how to handle them. If we would teach them how to <i>be</i> brave and +do brave things—really dare to do them, it would be better all +around—the planet included, most assuredly it would.”</p> + +<p>Fons made no reply to Schwarmer’s rather ragged reasoning, but when he got +to the top of the hill he broke out:</p> + +<p>“Excuse me. I’m going back to see if I can’t put a little of the dare +devil stuff into that all too goodish boy. I must have a little fun out of +him anyway.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be gone long, Fons. You must be here when your patriotic stuffs are +unloaded. I don’t care to be near enough to smell powder if they should be +handled too roughly or by the wrong end.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the little idiot that sits down on my trade that will be likely to +smell of the powdered beauties,” laughed Fons sardonically.</p> + +<p>“Have a care, youngster. You can’t cut up here as you can in the city +without having it known.”</p> + +<p>“O! it’s only a little scare I’ll treat him to. Boys like to be scared, +you know. That’s the secret of success in the money end of the Pyrotechnic +business.”</p> + +<p>Before he got back to the Cornwallis lot, he saw the baggage-man coming up +the hill.</p> + +<p>“Heigho,” he exclaimed, slapping his leg—“just in the nick of time! +Providence permits! Now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> I <i>will</i> have some fun. Stop a bit, Dan. I want +an assortment of that patriotic fervor. I am going to have a little picnic +with some boys right here if nothing happens.”</p> + +<p>After he had selected the things he wanted, he slipped a dollar into Dan’s +hand, saying, “you may go on now, but you’d better stay up with us today, +you and your nag, and help us celebrate. The women folks didn’t come and +you haven’t any of those ‘pull backs,’ Schwarmer tells me, so we can have +a very free time.”</p> + +<p>Dan laughed and moved on. Fons carried his boxes to a shady nook on the +steep bank just opposite the lot where Laurens Cornwallis was still flying +his kite. After he had arranged them he stopped and looked at them with a +satisfied air. Then he selected a thing with spiral stripes of red, white +and blue.</p> + +<p>“This will take the boy’s eye at once,” he said to himself as he climbed +the hill to go to the Cornwallis lot. “I must have invented it for his +kind of eye—a sort of Aaron’s rod—yes, that’s what I’ll name it—a bible +name. That will be ahead of King Pang’s ‘Sacred Mandarin.’ It’s just the +ticker for a little Sunday school chub like Laurens.”</p> + +<p>When he got to the fence he saw that Laurens was having trouble with his +kite.</p> + +<p>“Providence permits again,” he muttered as he jumped over into the lot.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span>“Hello there! my dear fellow,” he called out. “I see Mistress Kite has +gone back on you. They are always doing that sort of trick. I had about a +hundred when I was your age. I know all about the pesky things. I can +doctor it for you.” He left Aaron’s rod by the first tree he came to and +went on.</p> + +<p>Laurens shied off a little when he saw he was the lad that was with +Schwarmer, but Fons paid no attention to the “<i>instinctive dodge</i>,” as he +had heard his military professor call it. He marched boldly up, took hold +of the kite and began to fix it as though it belonged to him by right of +superior knowledge concerning kites. Laurens watched him with that kind of +fascination which a young boy invariably feels for an older one, and +especially one who has had an experience with so many kites and had so +many implements in his pockets to fix and do things with it; for +therefrom, during the process he took all sorts of beautifully made +instruments, ranging from a gold toothpick to a silver match-box and gave +them to him to hold while he was diving into the depths for his sharpest +jack-knife. Besides, he had a diamond ring on his finger of dazzling +brightness and a little jewelled watch in his vest pocket, which he pulled +out to see what time of day it was. After he had fixed the kite and sailed +it across the field several times, he stopped short and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“There, it sails beautifully; but I’ve had enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> of it! Say, little +‘<i>Can’t tell a lie</i>.’ I should think you’d be awful tired of the kite +business. I quit it long before I was as old as you are. Why don’t you +play with something more patriotic—something like what George Washington +used to lick the English with? I don’t blame you though for not wanting +Schwarmer’s cheep truck; I’ve got some things that I brought from the +city—things that I helped make for our school celebration. They are +daisies! stars and stripes of just the right color! Come on and I’ll show +you one. I’m going to have a picnic down by the river this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid mamma wouldn’t like to have me go out of the field.”</p> + +<p>“O you needn’t be afraid. It’s liberty day. She won’t care, take my word +for it. I’m older than you. Come on, you’ll never have another chance to +see my prettiest piece. I haven’t but one left and when it’s once let off +there’s an end of it; there it is leaning against the tree. Aaron’s rod, I +call it. Your Sunday school teacher has told you about Aaron’s wonderful +rod. Come and see how you like its namesake.”</p> + +<p>Fons started off with the kite in hand and Laurens still had the beautiful +implements.</p> + +<p>“Come on,” shouted Fons, seizing Aaron’s rod and swinging it gayly. “Catch +me if you can.”</p> + +<p>It was a lively chase. Over the fence, across the road and down the steep +bank! When they stopped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> they were side by side and both were laughing. +They had enjoyed the race.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Fons, “we are here and if you don’t want to see my patriotic +piece you will have to shut your eyes.”</p> + +<p>Laurens opened his eyes still wider instead of shutting them, for Fons +began to show off at once. It was a very pretty show. The place was in +deep shadow and the effect was almost as vivid as it would have been at +night.</p> + +<p>“That’s the style of them,” laughed Fons after he had finished the piece. +“I see you like it. Now you stay here while I run up to the house and get +some lemons and candy; and don’t let any bad boys run off with my things.”</p> + +<p>What Fons really did was to go up to the Schwarmer stables, where he found +an army of small boys to whom Schwarmer was distributing packages of +Fourth of July fireworks. He watched them and saw a squad of four rough +little rascals who were trying to get a double or perhaps a quadruple +supply. They were changing caps with each other and holding each other’s +boxes.</p> + +<p>“Here boys,” he said, calling them aside, “I know what you want. You +haven’t got your share and some others have more than their share. I can +fix that for you. I was a boy myself only a little while ago. There’s a +boy down by the river just opposite the big Cornwallis lot who has a great +lot of the very best kind of fireworks—stars<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> and garters, +Johnny-jump-ups and Yankee-doodle-doos. You go down there and make him +divide up. You can swipe him easy enough. He’s a little Sunday-school +angel, who wants to celebrate all by himself. You’ll know him. He is +rigged out in the <i>Can’t-tell-a-lie</i> George Washington style.”</p> + +<p>Fons’ intention was to go down to the river’s bank, secrete himself where +the boys couldn’t see him and watch them while they fought it out; but his +plan was baffled by an unexpected event.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> +<p class="title">THE ALARM.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">“It’s</span> ten o’clock already!” exclaimed Mrs. Cornwallis as she finished her +bath. “But everything is in perfect order now except ourselves. There’s +that dreadful cannon again! It made <i>me</i> shiver this time.” Then she added +anxiously, “Where’s Laurens? Have you heard him come in? I never knew him +to stay out so long.”</p> + +<p>“No, I haven’t,” replied Ruth, taking the alarm. “Please help me on with +my dress and I’ll go after him.”</p> + +<p>“He must be having a high time with his new kite this morning,” said Mrs. +Cornwallis as she put on Ruth’s pretty white frock. “Here, wait a moment, +then you can stay out with him as long as you like.”</p> + +<p>She tied the blue sash into a graceful knot and fastened a cluster of red +roses on her corsage with a resolute hand, for she would not believe that +any harm had befallen her boy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>Ruth hastened out and Mrs. Cornwallis proceeded to finish her own toilet. +A few moments afterwards she was smiling at her foolish fears and saying +to herself, they are having a lovely time now, playing together-the +blessed children!</p> + +<p>She was going to wear white, pure white just as she did when she was +married, but she had a red, white and blue knot for her throat and she was +fastening it on with a sapphire brooch that belonged to the same set of +the sapphire buttons with which she had fastened little Lauren’s George +Washington ruff, when Ruth burst into the room, crying:</p> + +<p>“O mamma! mamma! I can’t see him anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve looked all over the field! I’ve called and called but he did not +answer! O! he’s lost! he’s lost!”</p> + +<p>“No! No! Ruth. He must be somewhere about the premises.” Hand in hand they +went all over the house and grounds, but they did not find him.</p> + +<p>“O I’m so afraid,” sobbed Ruth! “Where shall we look now?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps he had trouble with his kite and went over to Ralph Norwood’s to +have him fix it. He did that way with papa last year. We will go and see +what he thinks about it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis was of his wife’s opinion.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be frightened,” he said. “Go home and look the premises over again +and wait for him there while I go to Norwoods.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>The Norwoods lived at the opposite end of the town fully a mile away. The +most direct course ran through the public square. Mr. Cornwallis went on +in that direction, making his way as rapidly as possible through streets +that were already strewn with firecrackers and torpedoes. It seemed to him +that he had never before seen so many of all sorts and sizes in the town +of Killsbury. Wherever there was a boy there was a fusilade of the +evil-smelling things. Wherever there were several boys, small cannons and +cartridges added to the noise and danger. Was it his anxiety about his own +boy that made it seem so much worse than ever before, or was it a day of +unusual horror in Killsbury? When he reached the Public Square the +question was answered. The scene beggared description. The air was full of +stench, smoke, hisses, cries of fright, hurt and brutal laughter. Horses, +dogs and babies were fired at indiscriminately. It seemed as though all +the boys in Killsbury and the surrounding country must have assembled +there and were trying to do their worst—as though they had made a +concerted attempt to seize the Public Square in army fashion and fire upon +every one who attempted to enter it from any of the streets; for squads of +them stood at every corner.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis saw that it would be impossible to cross the square safely +and he was in haste to reach Norwoods’ and find out if his boy were +there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> His boy! Had not a monster seized the town and swallowed up his +boy already? He pushed his way desperately to a side street hoping to +avoid further delay. As he turned the corner he saw a large load of people +headed for the square. He looked again and recognized the Rundels—a +family of hard working farmers—eleven in all, counting the aged +grandfather and grandmother and an uncle and aunt. They were accustomed to +driving into town on Independence Day to help celebrate and have a little +pleasant diversion. They were in holiday mood and array and were coming on +at a lively pace.</p> + +<p>“Good God!” exclaimed Cornwallis, “It will not do for them to drive into +that infernal place.”</p> + +<p>He ran after them and called on them to stop; but he called in vain. They +were on a down hill grade and before the driver could check the horses, a +fusilade of fireworks struck them and they rushed madly into the square. +Women with young children sought refuge in the nearest shops. Men and boys +fell over each other, trying to get out of the way of the infuriated +beasts. The helpless family by some sort of loving instinct huddled +together in the bottom of the staunch old hayrack—the children and +grandparents in the center and the others on the outside encircling them +with their strong arms. When the crash came, which was caused by running +against the town pump, they were all thrown out in a heap, the horses +wheeled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> about and stood gazing at them apparently aghast at the deed they +had helped to commit.</p> + +<p>Fortunately, none of them were killed. One of the girls had a sprained +wrist, one of the boys a sprained ankle, the aunt a dislocated shoulder, +and the father and mother were badly bruised; but after the cheering +report of the Doctor, they inclined to take their misfortunes resignedly +and thank the Lord they were no worse—quite as though they had been +necessary martyrs to the noble cause of American freedom, instead of the +sport of mischievous boys, and victims of an outrageous custom.</p> + +<p>“O! what a terrible world this is getting to be! Too terrible for any +innocent child to live in,” Mr. Cornwallis repeated to himself again and +again as he continued his way to the Norwoods’. Without being distinctly +conscious of it he was preparing himself for the disappointment and grief +which awaited him.</p> + +<p>Laurens had not been there and they had seen nothing of him.</p> + +<p>“Come with me, Ralph, and help me find him. It’s a terrible day down +town.”</p> + +<p>“So Police Haggard told father. I’ll go and see if he can help us. He has +just driven in the stable with his horse.”</p> + +<p>He returned, saying that his father would drive over to the cottage and +see if Laurens had returned and if not he would see Haggard and have a +regular search instituted.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>“But the Police are in full force at the Square and a horse is not safe in +the street.”</p> + +<p>“Never fear, he will manage with gentle Bess. He thinks we had better go +back by the river. He may have been chasing his kite and—”</p> + +<p>Ralph broke off crying, “O I shall never forgive myself if the kite has +been the cause of his death.”</p> + +<p>They hastened on making inquiries of everybody they met. They met Dr. +Muelenberg as they were turning from the road to go down the bank.</p> + +<p>“O Doctor! do you know?” gasped Mr. Cornwallis.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, I just came from your house to hunt for him. I went there to +celebrate his birthday and the dear little fellow was not there. We must +look well to the river.”</p> + +<p>They started down the bank.</p> + +<p>“O the kite, the kite!” exclaimed Ralph! “See! see! over there by the pine +trees! Perhaps he was tired of chasing it and has fallen asleep!”</p> + +<p>He rushed on crying “Laurens! Laurens wake up! wake up!”</p> + +<p>The next moment he stumbled over a strange distorted, discolored figure. +When the Doctor and Mr. Cornwallis came up he stood looking at it in a +dazed way.</p> + +<p>“It can’t be Laurens! It can’t be possible he could be so changed! Tell me +it can’t, Doctor,” he pleaded.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>The Doctor shook his head. “Not a trace! Not a feature! It may be some +other boy, but how shall we decide?”</p> + +<p>“God only knows,” said Mr. Cornwallis turning away from the unbearable +sight.</p> + +<p>The Doctor drew nearer as he felt it his duty to do, and looked at the +frightful figure more closely.</p> + +<p>“If it’s your son, Mr. Cornwallis, perhaps you will know him by some mark. +I think the back of the head has not been much burned. I see the remnant +of a cap.”</p> + +<p>He paused a moment to gather new courage. Then he raised the head and +removed the bit of cap. Underneath it were Laurens’ beautiful curls!</p> + +<p>Ralph fainted and the two men fell upon the ground, clutching each other +in agony.</p> + +<p>“Mien Gott! Mien Gott,” exclaimed Dr. Muelenberg at last. “You have one +thing to be thankful for. Death was instantaneous. He was not saved to die +in the awful toils of <i>Tetanus</i>.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> +<p class="title">RISUS SARDONICUS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Before</span> night—yes, even before the cannon on Schwarmer Hill had ceased to +boom, everybody in Killsbury knew of the terrible sorrow that had befallen +the Cornwallis family. Little Laurens had been brought home dead and +disfigured beyond recognition. His father and mother were wild with grief +and his sister Ruth was stricken down with brain fever. Neighbors and +townspeople came and saw and went away shocked and silent. It was plain to +be seen that it was one of those mysterious Fourth of July accidents that +will happen now and then, and few indeed were brave enough to ask just how +it happened or why such accidents should be made possible. The majority of +the people of Killsbury would as soon have thought of questioning the ways +of Providence or the rights of the whirlwind as they would of questioning +the doings of “the small boy,” or denying his right to go whithersoever he +listeth on our free and glorious Independence Day.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>The Reverend Dr. Normander, however, was not exactly of this stamp. He was +beginning at least, to think seriously about the matter. Passing strange +it seemed to him that the day which should be the most beautifully and +joyously free, had become the most fearful to the best and most truly +patriotic citizens of the town; and that said citizens should consent to +it and encourage it as so many did. Mr. Schwarmer, at least, encouraged it +most decidedly by distributing fireworks to the boys. He had been thinking +of speaking to him about it for some time. Whether he had given Laurens +Cornwallis the fireworks that had caused his death or not, he felt that +the time had come to utter his warning against such a practice and ask him +as a citizen of influence to make his gifts of a harmless nature. He +called on him the next morning for that purpose.</p> + +<p>“You have heard of little Laurens Cornwallis’s terrible death I suppose, +Mr. Schwarmer?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I heard of it last night. It was very, very sad, most assuredly it +was, Dr. Normander.”</p> + +<p>“The mystery is where he got the fireworks, Mr. Schwarmer. He went out +into the field to fly his kite. He had no fireworks and no money to buy +any. His parents do not approve of putting such dangerous things into the +hands of children. His mother thinks he must have been seized upon by +older boys and compelled to take part in, or witness their sports. However +the case may be,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> I have been asked so many times by friends and +acquaintances if it were true that he came up here and you gave him the +fireworks, that I felt it my duty to ask you personally.”</p> + +<p>“This is my answer for one and all, Dr. Normander. He did not come here +and I did not give him any firecrackers. You may set that down as gospel +truth, most assuredly you may.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad to hear it and be able to refute the rumor; still I feel that I +shall not have done my whole duty without telling you that I fear your +custom of distributing fireworks to the boys is having a very bad effect. +I have noticed an alarming increase of Independence Day accidents since +you inaugurated the custom. Yesterday was the worst of all. I was told +that the Public Square was a more dangerous place than if it had been +invaded by a foreign enemy—that the boys really took possession of it and +fired at everybody who attempted to enter.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Schwarmer laughed. “Well that’s no fault of mine, Dr. Normander. Any +sensible man knows that there isn’t enough powder in one of my little +packages to hurt any child. He couldn’t more than scorch his fingers were +he to let them all off at once—rest assured he couldn’t. He couldn’t more +than learn ‘The burnt child dreads the fire’ adage, which every child has +got to learn sooner or later.”</p> + +<p>“But if a large number of boys should club <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>together and every one had a +box, Mr. Schwarmer? What then?”</p> + +<p>“O that would be another affair, Dr. Normander. The parents and the police +should regulate a thing of that kind—most assuredly they should—the +parents primarily.”</p> + +<p>“But parents can’t always stand on guard, Mr. Schwarmer.”</p> + +<p>“I thought that was what parents were for—to guard their own children, +Dr. Normander. If I should attempt to guard other people’s children I +should expect to be told that my services were not wanted, most assuredly +I should; and if I give a boy a box of firecrackers to honor his country +with, I consider it’s his parents’ business to see that he makes the right +use of it, just as it would be their business to see that he made the +right use of a Sunday School book that you might give him to honor his God +with! No knowing but he would take a notion to set a match to the one +thing or the other, or the whole thing, if left to himself long enough—in +which case he would be apt to burn his fingers and perhaps burn himself up +and the whole house too; but neither you nor I would be to blame, I take +it,” laughed Schwarmer.</p> + +<p>Dr. Normander was amazed at such levity and reasoning or lack of reason; +but he replied with becoming patience: “Not for what we could not foresee +or avoid, Mr. Schwarmer. Every mature individual knows that all kinds of +explosives are more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> or less dangerous. There is a lurking devil in them +that it will not do to play with. They should not be used unless it is +absolutely necessary and then only by experienced hands. Surely, it would +be very easy for you to withhold your gifts to the boys, or make them of a +non-explosive character. You might try it next year and note the results +in the death and accident list. I think it would not only be right for you +to do so, but the part of wisdom, as quite a number, especially those +mothers who have had their boys seriously hurt by the explosives which you +have given them, are being very much exercised about the matter.”</p> + +<p>“Bless their hearts!” exclaimed Schwarmer reddening perceptibly, “I +suppose they think I own the Fourth of July and must run it and be +responsible for everything that goes amiss. Now I suppose they’ll try to +blame me for old Dan’s death. You know old Captain Dan Solomon—the +expressman. He came up here yesterday and insisted on letting off the +cannon. I couldn’t refuse him. It was Liberty day, you know. The day +didn’t belong to <i>me</i> any more than it did to anybody else, nor the cannon +either. I dedicated it to the town to begin with, so old Dan did as he +chose. He was careless with it at the sundown charge and it burst and +killed him. Come and see him. They have him all nicely laid out in the +coachman’s apartment.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! I had not heard of this,” said Doctor Normander. He arose in +astonishment and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>followed Mr. Schwarmer to the stable. One look was as +much as he could endure. He turned away in silence and went wearily down +the hill. He was convinced that Schwarmer did not give little Laurens +Cornwallis the explosives that caused his death; but he was still more +thoroughly convinced that he was responsible through his influence and +example for the alarming increase of accidents in the town; but beyond all +lay the dread conviction that the evil was coexistent with our body +politic and that the parents and people in general had become so inured to +it—so dead to its enormity that it would be well nigh impossible to bring +about any essential reform.</p> + +<p>The Saturday after the burial of Laurens Cornwallis, Dr. Normander rose +feeling quite ill, but he would not give up. He seized his hat and went +out to walk.</p> + +<p>When he reached the first avenue he looked up and saw Father Ferrill +crossing the street at a rapid pace.</p> + +<p>“Father! Father!” he called out involuntarily, “has anything +happened—anything more?” He held out both hands. He had never before felt +so keenly the need of a brother worker, or rather a father worker. The +aged priest came up, took his hands tenderly in his own and said:</p> + +<p>“I have just been summoned to the bedside of the Widow Pressneau’s little +boy. I fear it is a case of <i>Tetanus</i> beyond hope, it has developed so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +rapidly. On the Fourth he shot his hand with a toy pistol which was given +him to celebrate with.”</p> + +<p>“O Father! and yet another! Let me take your arm; I feel faint. The torn +face of poor old Dan Solomon and the terrible death of Laurens Cornwallis +have been too great a strain.”</p> + +<p>They walked on in silence. As they neared the widow’s house, Father +Ferrill said:</p> + +<p>“If you have never witnessed a case of <i>Tetanus</i> I advise you not to go +in, my son.”</p> + +<p>“I never have, but I think I ought to know what is going on about me, +Father, and perhaps I can help. I feel better now. I will hunt up Doctor +Muelenberg if he is not already there. He has had a large experience in +such cases.”</p> + +<p>“That is very kind, my son; but I hardly think his services will be of any +use. When the case develops so rapidly there is little chance of recovery. +Besides, I know how to apply the usual remedies. Our people are so poor as +a class that it is necessary we should be physicians to the body as well +as the soul.”</p> + +<p>“Still, I would go with you, Father. I must learn the needed lesson. This +terrible thing is closing in upon us more and more. Why is it, Father?”</p> + +<p>“War! War! primarily my son. This vile disease used to be the aftermath of +battlefields in the old countries. Here it is the Independence Day +disease; but the brute-elements are being let loose all over the world. +They are growing too strong<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> for us and we cannot hold them in leash,” +whispered Father Ferrill as he opened the Widow Pressneau’s door +noiselessly, pushed Dr. Normander in before him and shut it quickly. His +next movement was to pull down the shades through which the hot July sun +was streaming. The dexterity with which he performed the three essentials +for the comfort of the patient afflicted with this fell disease was +admirable, although it was of no use for the moment as the boy was in the +throes of that species of mortal agony, before which the curtain is drawn +all too often for the enlightenment of suffering humanity.</p> + +<p>“Father! Father! what have I done that my child should be so tormented?” +cried the mother as she sank down by the bedside with broken sobs and +words of supplication.</p> + +<p>The priest took her place and waited with crossed hands through convulsion +after convulsion, each of which was more terrible than the former one +until nothing worse could be imagined. The muscles were strained to their +utmost tensity. The body was bent like a bow but the most unbearable of +all was the drawn face and the awful semblance of laughter that has been +fitly called <i>risus sardonicus</i>. Dr. Normander closed his eyes and the +mother cried out again in direst agony:</p> + +<p>“Father! Father! what have I done that the evil spirits should take +possession of my child?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>“Poor mother, thou hast been more sinned against than sinning I perceive; +but hasten now and get hot cloths ready for the next attack; for there +will doubtless be another and another, although his face shows signs of +relaxing and he may be able to speak to thee and answer thy questionings.”</p> + +<p>The mother went out and the boy lay as still as a stone under the Priest’s +treatment for a few moments. Then he gave a great gasp and cried:</p> + +<p>“Mother! Mother! Forgive me before I go. I minded the rich man. I should +have minded thee. The rich man said the little play-pistol would not hurt +me. It did hurt me, mother. It was a foul fiend.” He took the cross in his +little wounded hand and clasped it like a vise against his heart and even +into the tender flesh until it left its mark there. His lips twitched and +quivered as though they were being drawn again into the awful laugh.</p> + +<p>“<i>Risus sardonicus</i>,” cried the priest, “Jesus have mercy!”</p> + +<p>“Jesus have mercy!” cried the mother.</p> + +<p>“Jesus have mercy!” whispered Dr. Normander.</p> + +<p>“Jesus have mercy!” cried the boy in a note of triumph. The strained lips +relaxed and parted with a heavenly smile and the widow’s child had gone to +meet the widow’s God.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> +<p class="title">INSANITY OR EXILE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">For</span> weeks and weeks after the terrible death of Laurens Cornwallis, the +life of his sister Ruth hung on a thread. She was delirious. She cried out +incessantly. “O Laurens! Laurens! beautiful angel! Come back! come back! +Speak to me Laurens! Kiss me, Laurens!”</p> + +<p>They feared her brain was going.</p> + +<p>“If we could only make her think he <i>had</i> come back,” said the perplexed +doctor—“create a sort of counter delusion.”</p> + +<p>They tried it each in turn with no effect—the mother at last.</p> + +<p>“Oh, she does not even hear me,” sobbed the mother. “Her sense of hearing +must be already gone, only her sight remains. Her eyes were fixed on the +door in the far end of the room, as though she expected to see him come +through that door, when she calls.”</p> + +<p>This gave the doctor a new idea.</p> + +<p>“Then we must <i>have</i> some one that looks like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> him come through that door, +in response to her call—some one that knew him and loved him and would be +in full sympathy with her in regard to his death.”</p> + +<p>“Ralph Norwood!” exclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis in the same breath.</p> + +<p>“And he must have the kite in his hand,” said Mr. Cornwallis.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I must make him a George Washington cap and whole suit if +necessary” said Mrs. Cornwallis. “Ralph is older but he is small of his +age and Laurens was large. Besides he is resourceful. He might make +himself look younger than he is.”</p> + +<p>Ralph was sent for at once. He too, had been ill from the shock of +Lauren’s death but he aroused himself and came to the rescue. He dressed +himself in the George Washington suit. He donned the <i>Can’t-tell-a-lie +cap</i> which Mrs. Cornwallis had made the crowning glory, by adding to it +Lauren’s beautiful curls, which had been clipped from his head by the +thoughtful undertaker.</p> + +<p>He took the kite in hand and waited by the door until Ruth called out:</p> + +<p>“Laurens come back! Come back! Speak to me angel! kiss me!”</p> + +<p>Then he opened the door and responded to the call. The effect was magical. +She fancied it was Laurens. She talked and laughed and slept in that +belief. When she awoke, she took her food<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> and medicine from his hand. She +did whatever he asked her to do. She was finally saved, brain intact.</p> + +<p>But this was not the end of little Ruth’s misery and the anxiety of her +parents. She was in a state of nervous wreck that required fully as much +watchfulness, if not quite so much solicitude as that of the mental +stress. Sudden noises, especially those of an explosive nature, such as +the firing of a gun or pistol, would cause a nervous shock, from which it +would take days and often weeks to recover. But worse than all was her +horror of Independence Day. She looked forward to its coming with a dread, +akin to terror.</p> + +<p>“O what <i>shall</i> we do now, Doctor? What <i>can</i> we do?” asked her mother.</p> + +<p>“Take her away out of sight and sound of it,” replied the doctor, “and +give her immediate assurance that you will do so.”</p> + +<p>“But where to go, Doctor? This terrible thing is everywhere more or less.”</p> + +<p>“Out of the country. To Europe or Canada, where they don’t pretend to have +an Independence Day,” replied the doctor, smiling grimly.</p> + +<p>“O Doctor! What cruel mockery is this—this being compelled to go away +from our home! It seems such a shame—a positive disgrace!”</p> + +<p>“They are not to be weighed in the balance,” said the doctor seriously. “It +is a matter of life or death, nerve or no nerve, to your child. If you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +will begin promptly and continue to take her away every year as long as +the present symptoms remain, she may get well in time. Otherwise I will +not answer for the result. Another Independence Day as full of racket and +accident as the last, would be likely to bring on a mental lapse, for +which there would be no hope. The only really safe thing to do is to take +a month’s vacation—that is, go out of the country three weeks before +Independence Day and stay until two weeks after. That would cover the time +which is usually seized upon by the independent and ignorant boys and +hoodlums of the community, to put the rest of the people in chains and +agony—or exile.”</p> + +<p>“O! O! Doctor! Is there no better way? Could we not go among them and talk +to them and tell them just how it is with us and ask them to be quiet?”</p> + +<p>The doctor shook his head. “I have tried that without effect more than +once in the case of very sick patients. It will take years of talk and +legislation and education to silence the loud-mouthed monster—and you +can’t wait for that.”</p> + +<p>“Lord help us to do it then and bring us out of it with health and +strength to fight against this terrible evil!” sobbed Mrs. Cornwallis. “O, +it seems to me there is no place in this world for the sick, the helpless, +and the afraid.”</p> + +<p>“Not even in your beautiful new world,” said the doctor. He was a German +but he was honest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> and the reply struck home with double force. She held a +long consultation with her husband that evening and they decided to carry +out his instructions faithfully. Consequently every year before the +Independence Day racket began they sought out a quiet spot on the Canadian +border—or rather a place where the American citizen freighted with +children and firecrackers was never known to come. It was not always an +easy or an agreeable task, to find just such a place; but it had to be +found, else the going away would be of no avail.</p> + +<p>Ralph was invited to go with them at first and did go as a matter of +course, until one fateful year when the parents suddenly awoke to the fact +that Ralph was growing a mustache and Ruth was developing into a rather +shy but pretty young maiden. The next year they went without him; and the +next. Then the unexpected happened. Ruth was disinclined to go, to begin +with; but the doctor shook his head and they went. They had been there +only a few days, however, when the long avoided American family made a +descent on the boarding house.</p> + +<p>“Yes, here they are at last,” said Mr. Cornwallis, as soon as he had given +them a thorough looking over—“the pestiferous boys, the rackety +firecrackers, the indulgent mamma and the blindly patriotic papa, if I +mistake not. I fear we shall have to move on.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>“No! no, papa! Let’s stay. I’m sure I can endure it now. I’m so much +better and perhaps we can talk to them and tell them about our experience +with the dangerous things and make them more careful. Let’s try it, papa. +I hate the idea of running away from our own people. I begin to think it +isn’t quite right.”</p> + +<p>“It’s far safer to stay here than to go home,” remarked Mrs. Cornwallis, +“where there are hundreds of armed boys to the four that are here.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis gave it up and they stayed.</p> + +<p>Ruth lost no time in making the acquaintance of the American family, at +least of Mrs. Bearington and the boys, nor any opportunity of impressing +upon them the danger of playing with fireworks. She gave her own +experience as proof. She told them of the terrible accidents that had +happened in her own town and of her little brother’s mysterious death that +had wrecked her health, broken her father’s and mother’s hearts and made +them fugitives from home.</p> + +<p>“Do you hear that, Robbie,” said Mrs. Bearington to her oldest son. “You +know that mamma has always been afraid you would get hurt, handling those +dreadful things.”</p> + +<p>“Papa bought them for us and I want mine now,” said the boy bluntly. “I +know how to handle them.”</p> + +<p>“Have a care my boy. You may not know as much as you think you do. If you +should have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> an accident, your papa would never buy any more for you, and +mamma would never forgive herself,” said Mrs. Bearington in her +soft-hearted, unreasoning way.</p> + +<p>“But the accident!” gasped Ruth. “How can you risk it? It might be of the +kind that could never be repaired—the loss of a hand or an eye!”</p> + +<p>“Oh! dear, dear! it’s too horrible to think of,” exclaimed Mrs. +Bearington, nervously.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps if you should think of it, you would see your way out,” persisted +Ruth. “There are so many beautiful things made for children now-a-days.” +Then, she turned to the boys and asked:</p> + +<p>“Can’t you tell me of anything you would like better than those evil +looking, nasty smelling, dangerous fire crackers and things? Something +that you could keep instead of burning up?”</p> + +<p>The three older boys maintained a dubious silence while Teddy the youngest +cried out: “O mamma! I’d rather have a bugle! A real nice big bugle!”</p> + +<p>“He makes me think of little Laurens,” said Ruth turning to Mrs. +Bearington with a sob. “He asked mamma ‘why they didn’t have a bugle +instead of a cannon on Schwarmer Hill,’ the very morning before he was +killed.”</p> + +<p>They looked at each other for a moment in sympathetic silence. Then Mrs. +Bearington turned quite bravely to the boys.</p> + +<p>“See here, boys, mamma is going to ask papa not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> to buy you any more +fireworks. Mamma is going to hunt the city over next year and find you +some things that you will like better—bugles! tambourines! trumpets! +bicycles!”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> +<p class="title">THE FUNNY FOURTH RACKET ON ENGLISH SOIL.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Ruth</span> hoped that her talk, painful though it had been to herself, would +have a good influence with the Bearingtons. She would have been quickly +undeceived, had she heard a conversation that occurred later on when Mr. +Bearington came in from his “smoke walk,” as his wife called it.</p> + +<p>“Papa,” said Mrs. Bearington, “I wish you hadn’t bought the fireworks! +Miss Cornwallis has just been telling me the particulars of her little +brother’s terrible death. I begin to be awfully worried for fear the boys +will hurt themselves.”</p> + +<p>“O nonsense, Tishy! You needn’t worry. I will attend to that racket. The +Cornwallis’ are cranks on the subject, you may set that down. I have heard +Cornwallis talk. He thinks because his little boy got killed other boys +should be denied the privilege,” laughed Bearington.</p> + +<p>“Privilege, papa!” gasped Mrs. Bearington,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> looking at him in a way as +helpless and childish as her style of addressing him warranted.</p> + +<p>“O, you never <i>can</i> take a good round joke, Tishy; but you can stop +worrying and you must. You must remember that I paid for this vacation and +I am bound you shall not take it out in worriment.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you could dispose of the fireworks papa—then I could <i>not</i> worry +about them.”</p> + +<p>“No, he won’t!” shouted Robbie bristling up. “He bought them for us and we +are going to have them.”</p> + +<p>“Down there! Young America!” said Bearington. “And you Tishy! You forget +that we are on English soil. There isn’t any demand here for Independence +Day jubilators.”</p> + +<p>“Nor for Fourth of July celebrations either, papa. There’s Colonel Jordan. +I know he wouldn’t call for one.”</p> + +<p>“He can’t help himself though. That’s where the fun will come in. I reckon +we will teach this English boarding house that if they have us and our +money, they will have to take us, Fourth of July racket and all.”</p> + +<p>“But the Cornwallis’, papa. I know how I should feel if we should lose one +of our boys in that fearful way.”</p> + +<p>“That boy didn’t know how to handle fireworks, you bet,” put in Robbie.</p> + +<p>“He may have been a natural born idiot for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> anything we know,” remarked +Bearington. “He was too good and beautiful to live anyway, according to +their account.”</p> + +<p>“Papa, how <i>bu’ful</i> do I have to be to be too <i>bu’ful</i> to live?” asked +little Teddy coming up and laying his curly head lovingly on his father’s +knee.</p> + +<p>“Like a lamb for the slaughter,” thought his mother. She broke out afresh:</p> + +<p>“Powder and dynamite are always more or less dangerous, papa.”</p> + +<p>“Never you mind, Tishy. They are safe enough if rightly handled; and right +enough, too, when they are put to the right uses.”</p> + +<p>“What’s the use of powder and die-a-mite except to celebrate the Fourth +with, papa?” asked Joey.</p> + +<p>“<i>Die-a-mite!</i> do you hear that Tishy?” laughed Bearington. “Well sonny, +they are good to blast the rocks with and the English too and send them +flying up hill and down, if they should meddle with our affairs as they +did before the revolutionary war and have tried to do, two or three times +since.”</p> + +<p>“Keeo!” shouted Robbie. “Skippetty hop! Hoppetty skip! Bow-wow! Bow-wow!” +In response to his call, the three other boys joined him and they went +“skippetty hop” into the back yard to worry Colonel Jordan’s English +terrier.</p> + +<p>Query. Was it the inward cussedness of the boy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> nature that led them on to +this species of brute torture, or was it their father’s injudicious talk?</p> + +<p>Mr. Bearington had been all suavity when talking with Mrs. and Mr. +Cornwallis about the coming celebration. He even intimated that they might +go over to a neighboring island and have their little picnic all by +themselves.</p> + +<p>“One day is enough for my boys,” he added. “I make them do all their +celebrating on the identical day. I don’t believe in drizzling along in +such matters more than in others.”</p> + +<p>Whereupon Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis thanked him heartily and rested in the +belief that he would not allow his boys to indulge in any annoying +demonstrations on their daughter’s account, even during Independence Day; +but they like Ruth were greatly mistaken. The day had scarcely dawned when +the racket began; and a big racket it was for four small boys to make. But +that was not all of it. When they sat down to breakfast they found a +firecracker under each plate and the boys were not in evidence, which +showed that more mischief was brewing.</p> + +<p>“The good for naught imps!” exclaimed the landlady as she cleared away the +stuff; “they have been trying to be funny all the morning—throwing +torpedoes under my feet and snapping firecrackers in my face. I am glad I +don’t live in an independent country if that’s the independence of it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>There were twenty firecrackers, one for each boarder. She put them into +the cupboard to get them out of the way and thanked her stars that she had +been able to do so before the rest of her boarders came in—especially +Colonel Jordan who inclined to be violent if anything went amiss. He had +cursed her roundly once upon a time, because a spider had invaded his +napkin. What would he have said had he found that insolent reminder of the +American victory over the English, underneath his plate?</p> + +<p>Colonel Jordan was the last to make his appearance. He was in a ferocious +mood, but he softened a little as he took his accustomed seat opposite +Ruth.</p> + +<p>“A beautiful day Miss Cornwallis—that is right here, but I perceive they +are having a right smart thunder shower on the American side. A volcanic +or patriotic eruption so to speak. The killed and wounded will not all be +brought in before tomorrow, possibly.”</p> + +<p>Ruth made no response. Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis looked anxious. The Colonel +felt that something was amiss.</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, this ridiculous Independence Day racket has cost me my +morning’s nap; but I ought not to be in a rage I suppose. I fancy you have +not enjoyed it either, Miss Cornwallis, although it is one of your +country’s choicest exports.”</p> + +<p>Ruth began to show signs of nervous distress<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> and Mr. Cornwallis hastened +to explain as well as place and time permitted, their attitude on the +subject and the sad experience that made them fugitives from home. He +closed with a significant look at Ruth, which would have been sufficient +for a more impressionable man—a civilian rather than a soldier. Not so, +however, with Colonel Jordan. He thought it was the mother’s health that +had been effected by the loss of her son, as very naturally it would be. +There was nothing in that which appealed especially to his sympathies. +Besides, his sympathies were tough. He turned to Ruth as though he had +discovered a good joke.</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon, Miss Cornwallis; but it would appear from latest advices that +the American victory over England is being turned into a most ridiculous +defeat. If the Mother Country had only known her wayward children’s +fondness for the firecracker and toy pistol all that she would have needed +to have done when they turned against her, would have been to have +furnished them with a generous supply of those dastardly things and they +would have destroyed themselves.”</p> + +<p>“The London Pyrotechnist is shrewd enough to take advantage of the +situation,” laughed Admiral Larkins. “He has surrounded the country with +his manufacturing tents and is said to have sold $10,000,000 worth of +Independence Day fireworks to Americans to celebrate their victory over +the English, last year—American casualties for that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>day footed up to +about 3,500 in killed and wounded. It’s a good scheme from a financial +point of view.”</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox" style="width: 372px; height: 500px;"><img src="images/img01.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">THE FUNNY FOURTH RACKET ON ENGLISH SOIL.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>Another Englishman who had still less understanding of the Cornwallis +matter, but was aware of the annual higeria of Americans to foreign lands +to escape the noise and danger of their national day, remarked: “It’s a +providential thing though for the Americans of today that their forebears +did not push their victorious hordes up to the north pole, else they would +have no near-by place to fly to, while their own country is being made too +hot for them.”</p> + +<p>How long this conversation would have continued it is difficult to say had +it not been for the distressful barking of Colonel Jordon’s English +terrier, who rushed in with a long string of firecrackers tied to his +tail.</p> + +<p>His first dash was toward Ruth, probably for the reason that she had taken +his part one day when the boys were tormenting him. He would have leaped +into her lap had she not warded him off with the vacant chair by her side. +He leaped into the chair, however, then across the table toward Colonel +Jordon and down on the floor and off to the lower end of the dining room +where the landlady was cowering in mortal terror, as well she might; for +she had on a thin muslin dress and was completely cornered. By that time +the firecrackers were in flame and the result was inevitable. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> set +fire to the poor woman’s dress and pandemonium reigned. The boarders +rushed to the rescue with cups of tea and coffee, pitchers of water and +milk, rugs and top-coats. She was finally saved with only one leg burned; +Colonel Jordon’s dog was so badly hurt that he had to be shot to end his +misery. Little Teddy Bearington who came in unobserved while the confusion +was at its height and was trampled down by hurrying feet, barely escaped +death by suffocation.</p> + +<p>But the Bearington boys had enjoyed their celebration. Mr. Bearington paid +the bill the next day and the whole posse beat a retreat across the +Canadian border. They showed signs of disorganization during the remainder +of the heated season; but when the fall political campaign came on, they +were in high feather again—at least Mr. Bearington and the three older +boys. Hardly a day passed that they did not tell how they had celebrated +the Nation’s Glorious Day on English soil.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> +<p class="title">THE DOUBLE ENGAGEMENT.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Ruth</span> and Ralph were alone on the cosy little veranda of the Cornwallis +cottage. It was a beautiful evening in June—full of moonlight, star-light +and rose-fragrance and so heavenly still that they could have heard the +beatings of each other’s hearts; and very likely they did, for they were +sitting side by side in lover-like proximity. There was an indefinable but +easily understood something about their movements and attitude that said +as plainly as words could have told it: “We are engaged and are going to +be married before many a day goes by.”</p> + +<p>“O, these perfect June evenings!” exclaimed Ruth in a voice of soft +rapture. “But how swiftly they are flying! Only think of it, Ralph! a week +from next Tuesday will be the Fourth of July! The dreadful, horrible +Fourth! I heard the first shot today. It went straight through my heart. +O, the fright and agony! How I wish it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> were all over with and yet I dread +its coming as I would that of a monstrous bloodthirsty army.”</p> + +<p>“Where shall we go to be rid of it, Ruth, and celebrate our own +independence? To Star Lake, Moon Island or Canada?”</p> + +<p>“Never again to Canada, Ralph! I haven’t told you our experience there +last year—that is, not all of it.”</p> + +<p>“You told me about the Bearington boys and the fireworks that were not +funny.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but I did not tell you the talk at the breakfast table before the +fracas began. Papa begged me not to talk about it, but I feel as though I +<i>can</i> tell you now, and will.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you can, and you will tell me everything,” laughed Ralph. “We +are all one now, that makes a delightful difference.” But she had no +sooner told him of Jordan’s joke at their expense than he exclaimed +angrily:</p> + +<p>“Ridiculous defeat! O the brute! How I wish I had been there to answer +him. He insulted you and the country at the same time.”</p> + +<p>“But you were not there, Ralph, and I don’t know but I’m glad of it; for +there is something ridiculous about it. Only think of it, Ralph! Fighting +for freedom—and then deliberately turning the day that commemorates it +over to careless children and irresponsible criminals, and flying away +from it as though a legion of devils were let loose! You see, Ralph, it +hurt me more to think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> that it really was ridiculous, than because Colonel +Jordon said it was; but I had to keep it to myself.”</p> + +<p>“You could have talked to me, if I had been there, to your heart’s +content, you know you could, Ruth, and I would have talked to the insolent +Colonel to <i>my</i> heart’s content. He must have had the epidermis of a +rhinocerous or he would have known better.”</p> + +<p>“Papa had a long talk with him after the Bearingtons left. I don’t know +what was said, but his manner changed entirely and for the worse—that is, +I mean, he was more disagreeable to me than before—in a way—”</p> + +<p>“I understand,” said Ralph in a passion. “He pitied you and made love to +you! The impudent rascal!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ralph; but I will say this to his credit. He had the good sense to +retreat when he saw that his attentions were disagreeable.”</p> + +<p>“Humph!” said Ralph.</p> + +<p>Ruth knew that “<i>humph</i>” was a sign that his jealous wrath was +effervescing and that she might continue to pour out the feelings which +had been shut away from him for three distressful years. She had a whole +heart full of them now.</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Ralph, I begin to think there’s no use of going away any +more to get rid of the horrible Fourth. It goes with me or comes to me, +wherever I go—this terrible monster to which my little brother was +sacrificed. Every year counts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> thousands of victims and every year more +and more! O, how many homes will be made desolate on the day that is fast +coming! How many beautiful and precious mothers’ sons will be defaced or +disfigured for life? Between three and four thousand was the death and +accident roll last year. How many will it count this year and who and how +many of our little circle will be among the hurt or slain?”</p> + +<p>“The Lord only knows, Ruth; but I mean to know something about the why and +wherefore of the increase of the Independence Day death roll in <i>this</i> +town. I have been looking it up and it is something appalling.”</p> + +<p>“O Ralph! Ralph! let us stay right here then and see if we can’t do +something to prevent it—something to stay this cruel, cruel slaughter. It +seems to me we might talk to the boys and watch over them and save now and +then one at least.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, dear. We <i>could</i> do it if we could go to work hand in +hand, with nobody to hold us back. It <i>would</i> be better and braver to stay +here and wrestle with the monster than to try to hide away from it; and +please God we <i>will</i> do it—after, you know when. We can’t hope to +accomplish much if we go to work single-handed, eh? We will be doubly +armed for it before another year comes around.”</p> + +<p>The hand that lay in his gave a quick pressure in response and he went on +manfully:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span>“We have been fools and blind in this matter long enough. Something is +going to be done about it before long. I have talked with a great many +with regard to it since Lutie had his fingers shot off, and I have +gathered some astonishing statistics—statistics that ought to set us to +thinking and acting too.”</p> + +<p>“O Ralph! Ralph! Tell me all about it! Tell me everything! I will work for +it night and day. Bless you, Ralph. O, how good it is to hear you say that +we <i>can</i> do something and <i>will</i>.”</p> + +<p>Ruth was fairly wild with joy. She kissed his hand and cheek and brow, +over and over again with a fervor that was new to him and very, very +delightful. The betrothal kiss was nothing in comparison. Compliments on +her grace and beauty had failed to call forth any such expressions of +love.</p> + +<p>“To begin with,” he said at last, “I have found out that we have more +Independence Day accidents in this town than in any other town of its size +in the state. What do you think the reason is?”</p> + +<p>“O! I know, Ralph. It’s because Millionaire Schwarmer comes every Fourth +and distributes a carload of fireworks. I know it is; and I believe he +gave Laurens the package that cost him his life, though he tried to make +it appear that he did not. How does he know who he gives to when he is +distributing his death-dealers right and left!” sobbed Ruth.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>“He doesn’t know,” said Ralph, “and he doesn’t care or think about it; but +he ought to be made to think. We know he gave Lutie the box of cartridges +that tore off his finger. He ought to have been prosecuted for it and I am +going to tell him so some day. I am not afraid of his millions. The +trouble with people here is that they have got in the habit of bowing down +to him and worshipping him—the golden calf! and being a calf instead of a +wise man he fancies that he owns us all—body and soul—and may do +anything he chooses with us.”</p> + +<p>“I believe it, Ralph. He has taken it into his stupid head to pat my +shoulder and call me Miss Pretty when he sees me of late.”</p> + +<p>Ralph was furious again and threatened dire things. After he was +sufficiently molified Ruth continued seriously: “O Ralph! Ralph! How can a +man of mature years—a man like Mr. Schwarmer—put such dangerous things +into a boy’s hands? If he were young and thoughtless and dazed by custom; +but a man of his age and experience! How is it that this Independence Day +saturnalia has been let to grow into such enormous proportions? If all the +fiends of the lower regions had been employed to make a plan for the +destruction of the youth of our land, they could not have done worse. Only +think of it, Ralph, taking powder and dynamite, the most dangerous of all +substances and making them into attractive forms for children to play +with—play with as freely as though they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> were carts or doll babies! O! O! +what are we coming to? What idiocy—worse than idiocy—how Satanic!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ruth, and it does seem to be growing worse and worse every year—as +though we were sinking down to the level of the brute. As though Satan had +gotten a lease of a thousand years and was trying to see how many children +he can destroy—yes, and young men, too; for there are the deadly games +for the finish. Another century of such brutal sports and celebrations and +there would not be a sound man left in the community. We would be as +hideous as the brutal, battle-scarred Saracens. But I cannot think we +shall have another century of it. The climax will come before that and +there will be a turn in the right direction.”</p> + +<p>“What makes you think so, Ralph? As I see it we shall have no homes—sweet +homes with happy healthy families. We shall have hospitals +instead—hospitals and hospitals, full of the crazed, crippled, idiotic +and beastly. If anything can be done to prevent this dire calamity, why +don’t we begin at once.”</p> + +<p>There was silence for a few moments. The full moon sent its searching rays +through the veranda vines. The stars twinkled brightly and a pair of eyes +brighter than stars were looking into Ralph’s face appealingly.</p> + +<p>“Let us begin now, Ralph—this very Fourth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> and see if we can’t do +something to save our boys from this terrible King Schwarmer. He’s a worse +king for us than old King Herod was for Israel. Let’s dethrone him.”</p> + +<p>“We will,” said Ralph in a voice of quiet determination. “You have given +me an inspiration. The time is ripe for action. Our new President is a +Golden Rule man. A professed follower of the original Golden Rule Mayor. +He comes of the same good old Quaker stock. He sings the same songs. He +has the Golden Rule in a frame of silver, ornamented with apples of gold, +hung up in his office, and he practices that rule as nearly as any man +can.”</p> + +<p>“Let us go and see him, Ralph; he will help us if he believes in that +rule.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ruth, and if we can manage to steer our own Fourth of July craft so +no one is hurt this year, we shall have done something that will make you +happier than you have ever been since Lauren’s death; shall we not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes! A thousand times, yes, Ralph.”</p> + +<p>“One thing more, Ruth—one more sacrifice for the cause. Can you guess +what it is?”</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Ralph! Tell me quickly.”</p> + +<p>“We must be married before that frightful Independence Day monster comes. +We must be married at once.”</p> + +<p>“Go ask papa and mamma, Ralph. They are in the west room with Dr. +Muelenberg. I know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> what they are talking about and I want you to promise +me one thing.”</p> + +<p>“A thousand if you like, Ruth.”</p> + +<p>“No, Ralph, only this one. Promise <i>me</i> that you will not promise <i>them</i> +to take me abroad for a wedding trip.”</p> + +<p>“Remember,” she added, as she turned laughingly away, “if you do I will +break the engagement.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +<p class="title">DR. MUELENBERG’S PRESCRIPTION.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">As Ralph</span> entered the west room, Mr. Cornwallis was saying:</p> + +<p>“You see how it stands, Doctor. We can’t afford to go to Europe; and +Canada, the poor man’s abroad, is no longer effective.”</p> + +<p>“Here’s Norwood,” said the Doctor, looking quizzically at the young man. +“There was a time when he helped us out splendidly with Miss Ruth.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, indeed,” said Mrs. Cornwallis, “and she has always felt so grateful +and wanted to do something to repay you, Ralph. She thinks now if she had +been here instead of in Canada when your little brother was hurt, she +might have entertained him and kept him out of Schwarmer’s way.”</p> + +<p>“Bless her heart; but I am the one that ought to have kept him out of the +way of that superb idiot,” said Ralph with a glow of feeling. He was +thinking that Ruth’s objection to going away might be grounded in a desire +to be near himself, although he was aware that she had not been conscious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +of it, so quick had it been to expand and reach out into more generous +motives.</p> + +<p>“Now she thinks she might be able to save others by getting up picnics and +things of that sort;” said Mr. Cornwallis shaking his head, “but we fear +she is not strong enough for that yet—that it would bring on the old +terror and do no manner of good. She doesn’t realize what it would be to +fight against such a custom—a custom that was inaugurated when our New +World began. It has grown to be a monstrous evil, but like many another +serpent it has become so mixed up with business interests that it will be +almost impossible to eliminate it. I have talked with more than one +manufacturer, feeling there was no other way to rid ourselves of the vile +Fourth of July abominations than by stopping their production and +importation, but they will not give in. They will employ noted scientists +to analyze their wares with the understanding that no germs of <i>tetanus</i> +are to be found. They will throw dust into the eyes of the governing +powers. They resent fiercely the least intimation that they are +responsible for the killing or maiming of three or four thousand boys per +year. They charge it to parents and teachers. One man swore at me when I +approached him on the subject and asked if I didn’t know that there were +danger traps all over God’s world and that a boy should not be let to +plunge into the river until he knew how to swim. You see how it stands, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>Doctor—the powers of light against the powers of darkness. It’s a thing +for the strong hand of government to take hold of instead of our frail +little Ruth. It will take a long pull, a strong pull and a pull all +together to accomplish anything of consequence. You remember the efforts +made last year. They began with the Decoration Day slaughter. The ‘Divine +alarm’ was sent all over the country and yet the list of the dead and hurt +was beyond all precedent.”</p> + +<p>“And this good old Quaker state,” replied the Doctor, “consecrated by the +good old saint, William Penn, exceeds all others in Independence Day +accidents, and this town appears to be the storm center of the whole. The +gentle ‘<i>Friends</i>’ he left to carry on his work must be asleep and the +fierce spirit of the ‘<i>Lord’s Committee of Colonies</i>’ must be awake and +armed with the explosives which he tabooed with such good effect. The +cases of <i>tetanus</i> I had here last year nearly drove me mad. I wanted to +throw anti-toxin to the winds and turn mayor or missionary myself and take +this beastly and idiotic custom by the horns. Call it patriotism! It’s bad +enough to bring children into this dirty world, but to furnish them with +instruments to introduce the worst kind of dirt—the baccili of <i>tetanus</i> +into their sweet young flesh is deviltry or insanity, at least. It’s of no +consequence so far as results go whether the wads in the blank cartridge +are <i>boiled</i> or not. It is a fiend incarnate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> No instrument could be more +cunningly devised for the injection of poison into the human system. The +flat head is like the head of a serpent. The small boy gives it a starter. +It hisses and carries everything before it—pieces of flesh or clothing, +soiled or unsoiled, but usually soiled. It buries and burns them deep in +the flesh. The gash shuts up and they are left to fester there. Mien Gott! +These are the things that are invented, manufactured and sold for innocent +boys to play the deadly game of patriotism with. They are good for no +other thing—they nor the toy pistol; and the wretch who invented them +ought to be put into a house of correction and be kept there and preached +to until he learns to set his wits at better things. The people ought to +see to these matters. There are laws and laws shut up in your statute +books. They want the spirit of flame put into them and the spirit of +enforcement back of them.”</p> + +<p>“I was advised when I first came to this country, to take lessons in +American patriotism. Mien Gott! The lesson I have learned is that +missionaries are needed in all the fields around about. I should say let +Miss Ruth turn missionary—that is, if she has no longer a fear of that +dreadful work.”</p> + +<p>“Her fear of going away seems to be greater than the fear of the Fourth +itself,” said Mrs. Cornwallis. “That’s the perplexing thing about it. +That’s why we doubt the expediency of going<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> at all. Whether the evil we +fly to is greater than the evil we fly from, is the question. She is all +we have left and we have been so very, very careful—afraid to mention the +subject almost.”</p> + +<p>“I have been expecting this puzzle in Miss Ruth’s case and I incline to +take it as a healing sign,” said Dr. Muelenberg looking keenly at Ralph. +“To engage in the work of stamping out this monstrous horror would be far +better than ominous silence and the annual flight from it, for you, for +her, for the people of the town and for the world, no doubt! But it will +not do for Miss Ruth to go out alone. She must have some one with her, in +heart and hand.”</p> + +<p>“Here am I,” exclaimed Ralph, rising to the occasion and making his errand +known. Mrs. Cornwallis was affected to tears when he promised to try to be +a good son. She was thinking of her beautiful boy. Mr. Cornwallis gave a +dignified consent and Dr. Muelenberg grasped his hand vigorously, saying:</p> + +<p>“O! I suspected you, young man! I suspected you and I am glad my +suspicions have proven true. I believe it will be for the betterment of +all concerned.”</p> + +<p>And so it happened that Ruth’s engagement proved to be a relief in more +ways than one. It was a relief to herself because she could talk freely to +Ralph. She could let her enthusiasm have full rein on this subject without +arousing his fears for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> her sanity of mind. Any nervous symptoms that she +might betray in so doing would not cause him the undue fright and +solicitude that they did her father and mother. He would know that they +meant she must be doing something for the cause so near her heart. It was +certainly a relief to her father and mother, who had begun to admit at +least to themselves (especially after Ruth’s disaffection for Canada) that +the annual going away from home was taking the form of a cruel necessity. +Yes, and it continued to be a relief in spite of the little flurry into +which they were thrown a few evenings later on when Ruth and Ralph +appeared before them hand in hand with the Rev. Dr. Normander smiling +benignly in the background. They knew what it meant, although there were +no wedding garments and the wedding feast was not prepared. Ruth pleaded +that there was important work to be done. Ralph declared that he was +“following Doctor Muelenberg’s prescription in not allowing her to go +forth single-handed.”</p> + +<p>It was enough. The two hands were joined then and there and before another +morning dawned the bride and bridegroom had planned their Independence Day +campaign.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> +<p class="title">THE BRIDAL TRIP.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">With</span> a roll of statistics in hand and Ruth on his arm Ralph proceeded to +the Golden Rule President’s office the next morning after the marriage.</p> + +<p>As they entered the hall they heard some one singing in a deep, melodious +voice.</p> + +<p>“That’s the President,” whispered Ralph, crushing Ruth’s arm to his side. +“It’s his morning matin. I think he composes it as he goes along. +Sometimes he sings the Golden Rule mayor’s songs.”</p> + +<p>“Did you ever hear anything so quaint and touching, Ralph?”</p> + +<p>“Never, Ruth, outside of ‘<i>Friends’ Meeting</i>,’ where I used to go with +Grandma when I was a kid. They sang their sermons and sometimes they were +very touching.”</p> + +<p>“O, listen! He’s singing plainer now, Ralph!”</p> + +<p>“As long as you please, dear,” said Ralph. The rascal was only too glad to +listen, with Ruth’s pretty head leaning against his shoulder and her fair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +cheek within kissing distance, while the following words came rolling +forth in a heartful voice:</p> + +<p class="poem">“Co-workers with God! What a mission for men.<br /> +What a promise! What glory awaits us then,<br /> +When once we awake and our destiny see!<br /> +The angels I’m sure might envious be.<br /> +All hail to God’s workers! Our race they will save<br /> +From the foul name of ‘master,’ or ‘idler’ or ‘slave.’”</p> + +<p>“O, I like that, Ralph,” whispered Ruth, after the singing had ceased. “It +sounds so hearty and helpful—better than cathedral music for poor mortals +like ourselves. I know he will help us. Let us go in now.”</p> + +<p>Ralph was in no hurry; but Ruth pressed him eagerly forward. She would not +wait even for the proffered kiss. She rapped at the door.</p> + +<p>“No need of ceremony here,” laughed Ralph. He opened the door and they +walked in.</p> + +<p>The President was at his desk swinging his pen as vigorously as he had +been using his voice a moment before. He did not stop until he came to a +period. Then he arose quickly and extended both hands.</p> + +<p>“Glad to see you, Norwood, and twice glad to see—”</p> + +<p>“My wife,” stammered Ralph—the words were new to him and the sound was +new to Ruth. They both blushed and the President asked as he shook a hand +of each:</p> + +<p>“How long since, Norwood? I didn’t know you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> were married. It must be +newly. I see you haven’t gotten used to saying ‘<i>my wife</i>?’”</p> + +<p>“Only since last evening,” replied Ralph.</p> + +<p>“And you brought her to see me early this morning,” said the President, +slapping his shoulder while he retained Ruth’s little hand in his powerful +grasp. “Bless you! You are a good fellow, Norwood. You are giving me a +rare treat. It’s seldom a man brings his wife to call on me and never a +newly-wedded one. I like the idea, though. It shows you are thinking of +others’ pleasure as well as your own. That’s the right kind of love to +have even in the beginning.”</p> + +<p>“She chose it for her wedding trip,” laughed Ralph confusedly. Then he +recovered himself and added seriously: “She was very anxious to see you +and speak with you, and she would not wait a moment longer.”</p> + +<p>“Come and sit down,” said the President. “We will talk. We will reason +together if need be.”</p> + +<p>After they were seated Ruth took a little miniature from her pocket and +handed it to him.</p> + +<p>“Please look at the picture so you will understand exactly how I feel and +why I appeal to you,” said Ruth.</p> + +<p>“That’s right! just right! People don’t half understand each other. That’s +the reason why they often seem so hard and unsympathetic.” Then he put on +his glasses and looked at the picture.</p> + +<p>“What a beautiful face! How spiritual! It <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>almost seems as though I had +seen one that looked a little like it.” He gave her a keen glance.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox" style="width: 359px; height: 500px;"><img src="images/img02.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">GOING TO VISIT THE PRESIDENT.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>She shook her head. “You never saw him surely—my beautiful little brother +Laurens Cornwallis. He died seven years ago this Fourth of July—Papa and +Ralph and Dr. Muelenberg found him lying alone in the woods on the river +bank, all torn and mangled with fireworks. It was a dreadful sight and an +awful mystery! but probably you never heard of it.”</p> + +<p>“I was abroad then but it strikes me that I read of some such accident. +Probably an outline of it and that there was something wrong about it; but +I want to hear more. I want to hear all about the wrong things that have +been, or are being done in this town. My belief is that private wrongs are +too often hushed up. They ought to be talked about in the open, as a rule, +and even where they are of a private nature they should be talked of in +the right way and to the right persons.”</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged, Ruth told more fully than she had ever done before, the +effect of her brother’s death on herself—of the visions she had when the +brain fever was at its height—of the colossal shadow of Millionaire +Schwarmer looming into the sky scattering implements of death and +destruction everywhere—of the white-winged figure of her brother flying +along with the upward look, toward a pit of writhing, fiery, serpents—how +she fancied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> that she ran after him and really did call and call for him +to come back; and how Ralph came instead and made her think he was Laurens +and the delusion saved her.</p> + +<p>“And so you have married your delusion. Bless your heart, you have done +just right,” laughed the President, but there was a suspicion of tears in +his eyes and Ruth went on:</p> + +<p>“I was only eleven years old then. My brain was saved, but I was a +physical wreck. Year after year for seven years papa and mamma took me to +Canada to save me from the horror of our National Day! Only think of that. +Flying away from it and trying to hide my fears of it. You are right about +‘<i>speaking out</i>.’ I think now if I had been encouraged to speak of it +freely and do something to remedy it, I need not to have gone away, at +least, so many times; but poor mamma and papa! They were so broken down +they couldn’t bear to talk about it—papa especially; but I know now that +it would have been better for him if he had. His hair was a beautiful +brown when little Laurens died, but now it’s as white as snow! And there +are others that ought to speak out plainly. There have been a great many +accidents here since Mr. Schwarmer’s advent. None of them have been quite +so bad and mysterious as my little brother’s, but they have been too bad +to pass by and have been increasing every year. Ralph will show you that +it is so.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span>After the statistics were read and commented upon, Ruth broke out: “It’s +coming again. It’s almost here. We know dreadful things will happen if we +don’t watch and watch and do everything we can to prevent them and stir +everybody up to do the same. You can help us, I know you can.”</p> + +<p>“Bless your heart! That’s just what I’m here for, to help everybody. I can +help you stir up the people. I will call a mass meeting for this very +evening, and you and your delusion will be there in the front row—and the +curtains will all be torn away from this beastly Fourth of July business. +He will read the figures and you will tell your story and encourage every +hurt soul to do likewise. This is what I believe in. What I don’t believe +in, is <i>forcing</i> people to do things. But I <i>do</i> believe in warming them +up to do right things. I don’t believe in masterings, bossings, tie-ups or +hold-ups; but I do believe in explainings, urgings and entreatings.”</p> + +<p>“The Rev. Dr. Normander tried the gentler method with Schwarmer at the +time of Lauren’s death,” said Ralph, “and he declared that Independence +Day was a sacred day and that he had as good a right to distribute free +fireworks on that day as a minister had to distribute free religious +tracts on the Lord’s Day, or words to that effect.”</p> + +<p>“O the idiot!” exclaimed the President. “I would <i>not</i> punch his head and +make more of an idiot of him; but if I could get my eye on his free<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +fireworks I would destroy them as I would a nest of rattlesnakes. I would +let him see that I know the difference between good and evil—between God +and the devil, by an illustrative example.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> +<p class="title">A PUBLIC MEETING—STATISTICS AND RESOLUTIONS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Early</span> in the afternoon there was a big poster on the Town Hall, with a +proclamation, or rather, invitation from the President, asking “the +citizens one and all, without distinction of sex, race or color to +assemble together in order to discuss plans for the saving of life, limb +and property during the forthcoming celebration of the Nation’s birthday.”</p> + +<p>They came—old men and young men, women and girls. The hall was packed +with an expectant crowd. The President opened the meeting by saying:</p> + +<p>“Dear Friends and Townsmen:</p> + +<p>“I did not invite you here to listen to a speech. I don’t believe in +cornerings of any kind and surely not in cornering anybody and talking him +to death. I invited you expecting you would talk to me and each other. I +am a new man in civic affairs; but I don’t want to stay new. I want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +get at the heart of the interests of this town. I did not come among you +to make millions. Like my brother mayor over in Ohio, I should not know +what to do with a million of money; but unlike him I am not afraid I shall +ever be a millionaire (applause). But I begin to fear that I have +neglected my civic duties. You know I was averse to having the yoke of +office put upon me. Now I thank you for your kindly insistance. I have had +proof this very day that the yoke is good for me and may prove to be good +for the people of the town also (cries of ‘why’ and ‘how’).</p> + +<p>“Before I tell you why or how I want to give thanks right here before you +all to one who is not here—one who has crossed over—my dear Quaker +mother, who taught me the Golden Rule and how to apply it. I loved that +rule, but I hesitated about putting it up in the office, just as my +brother mayor hesitated about putting it up in his manufacturing +establishment. I had very much the same feeling about it, but I conquered +it, thank God! It resulted in this meeting (cries of ‘hear!’ ‘hear!’)</p> + +<p>“Yes, you shall hear. I don’t believe in keeping matters of this kind +veiled. Early this morning a young woman came to my office. She brought no +axe to grind but she brought what was infinitely better, a heart full of +love and solicitude for the youth of this town. Years ago her little +brother had fallen a victim to a terrible and mysterious Fourth of July +accident, and she wanted to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> something to save others from a like fate. +She thought that if I believed in the Golden Rule I would help. God bless +her.” (Cries of “God bless her!” “God bless her!”)</p> + +<p>The President wiped his eyes and continued: “Yes, God bless her! She +brought no axe to grind but she brought her husband with statistics to +prove that this town has more Independence Day accidents than any town of +its size in the state.” (Cries of “shame on the town.”)</p> + +<p>“Yes, shame on the town and every individual of the town—especially those +who profess to represent it. I am ashamed of myself—mortally ashamed that +I have let such a monster grow and fatten right under my nose, without +doing a thing to prevent it. I don’t know how the rest of you will feel +about it, but I feel that I have very little excuse for my stupidity in +this regard; for the same mother that taught me the Golden Rule also +taught me that war and its instruments and all its vain-glorious +celebrations such as our Independence Day has grown to be, are wrong and +that we should lose no opportunity of speaking and acting against them.</p> + +<p>“She taught me all that and I accepted it or thought I did. I proclaimed +myself to be a man of peace, an enemy to cannons, battle-ships, swords, +guns, pistols and all the implements made for the killing of men; while I +have had nothing to say against the little murderous, viperous <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>implements +that are put into the hands of innocent and ignorant boys.” (Cries of +“hear!” “We are all in the same boat!”)</p> + +<p>“Then let us get out of the boat and go to work in earnest to destroy the +evil, root and branch. There is nothing more sure than that this Fourth of +July slaughter is a branch of war—a terribly crooked branch and a poison +one—one that can be easily made to grow into another deadly Upas tree. We +have all heard of that exasperating old Upas the very fibre of which if +woven into a garment produces a constant itching to the wearer. The same +thing happens to the small boy who indulges in Independence Day customs +too freely. He gets an itching for war and brutal sports. Ralph Norwood +will now give you the statistics of our annual Independence Day slaughter +for the last ten years, which will show you, I trust, into what a fatal +fetichism we are rapidly descending.”</p> + +<p>Ralph came forward with an immense roll which he accidentally let slip. As +it trailed on the stage there were whispers of excitement from all parts +of the house, such as “See.” “See.” One rough fellow blurted out:</p> + +<p>“That’s all right, Norwood, let’s have it sled length.”</p> + +<p>“The first accident on his record was at the laying of the Corner Stone of +the Schwarmer mansion. He explained that he had begun there <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>because the +disasters that had occurred previous to that date had not been noticeably +large. On that eventful day Mr. Schwarmer had come from the city and +brought a carload of fireworks, cannon included. His hostler was killed +while firing off the cannon. There were several minor accidents the same +day. But little account was made of them in face of the greater accident. +I believe one of the boys who had his fingers shot off is in the hall now. +If so will he kindly raise up his maimed hand in proof of the statement?”</p> + +<p>The hand was raised and sighs of pity were heard from various parts of the +house.</p> + +<p>“The next year the worst accident was caused by a boy who threw a bunch of +firecrackers at a horse. It ran away throwing out a mother and child. The +child was killed and the mother’s back almost broken. She lingered until +the next Fourth and died in a paroxysm of fear, piteously begging to have +the terrible fireworks stopped. I see that Dr. Muelenberg is here. We +would like to hear his testimony.”</p> + +<p>The doctor arose promptly and confirmed Ralph’s statement. He also said +“that in his opinion there should be no temporizing with this matter. +Everybody knew that explosives were dangerous, especially those that were +gotten up on purpose to explode and that they should never be put into the +hands of the young or ignorant or evil disposed.” He added sarcastically:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>“There is no need of appointing a lumbering committee to go around the +world and investigate the injurious effect of powder and dynamite on the +human system. It is well known that a very small quantity of either is +sufficient to put a boy’s eye out, tear off his fingers or produce one of +the most horrible diseases, lockjaw—a disease which boasted antitoxin +fails to cure in nine cases out of ten. I don’t see how any man in his +right senses would dare to put such explosives into a young boy’s hands. +Surely such a man must be afflicted with what the Germans call +‘<i>Precocious Imbecility</i>.’ Permitting boys to kill themselves and each +other is almost worse than they do in Germany. Boys there are carefully +protected until they are old enough to serve some purpose or to be killed +in the service of the King, while the American small boy has almost no +protection and does not seem to be reared for any purpose unless it is to +be killed in the service of the King of Commerce. I speak advisedly for I +perceive that he is already being caught in the net-work of at least two +great business interests—those of Pyrotechnics and Antitoxin, to say +nothing of the lesser interests of hospital nurses and doctors. What will +come next to entangle him and hold him there it were vain to forecast. As +to the doctors I am one of them, and ought to know what I am talking +about. I know it’s money in my pocket to have the beastly thing go on; but +I hope you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> will believe me when I say that I don’t want it to go on.” +(Cries of “Yes!” “Yes.”)</p> + +<p>“I came to this country straight from the German University, with high +hopes, but I have had to let them down fully half way. Not quite down to +the lethargic German level but lower down than I could possibly have +imagined: for what do I see, in this new-born land? A nation of freemen, +courting self-destruction! Arming their ignorant young boys and hardened +criminals against themselves! What do I see the next day and the next +after the glorious Independence Day of which I heard so much in my own +country? I see the dead, the mutilated, the dying, the weeping mothers and +trembling sisters! I landed in New York the last days of beautiful June +eager to grasp my brother practitioners by the hand and help them to make +this people as strong and healthy as they were prosperous and free. But +<i>what</i> did I hear in this free land? A voice from the high seat of a great +City Government saying: ‘Prepare the way! Prepare the way! (Not for the +“Prince of Light”) but for the prince of darkness, death, din and +disorder! Stand by with lint, bandages and antitoxin! Have an ambulance +within call; for the prince that rules this day is sure to leave hosts of +wounded and dying in his track.’ When I stood still and asked why they +allowed this thing to be, they looked fierce at me and warned me to take +lessons in American patriotism. Certainly <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>‘<i>precocious imbecility</i>’ must +be at the bottom of this whole business.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Muelenberg sat down amidst a storm of applause and Ralph continued:</p> + +<p>“The next year a terrible accident occurred and a very mysterious one. A +beautiful boy of eight years was brought home with his clothes burned off +and his face scarred and torn beyond recognition. Nobody ever knew to a +certainty where he got the supply of fireworks which caused his death. His +parents certainly did not give them to him. The father is in the house now +and will no doubt tell you so if you should desire to know.”</p> + +<p>Cries of “yes, yes, yes, let the father speak!” were heard on all sides.</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis turned pale and hesitated.</p> + +<p>“O! do speak father,” whispered Ruth, who was sitting by his side in the +front row. “If you don’t <i>I must</i>, but I had rather <i>you</i> would speak. I +know it would do you good. Tell them just how you feel about it. You may +be the means of saving some other boy’s life.”</p> + +<p>Ralph waited serenely. He knew well enough what Ruth was saying, although +he could not hear her; for they had talked the matter over and she had +promised to be as near as possible, to spirit him on and urge her father +to speak instead of speaking herself.</p> + +<p>He was so elated with the consciousness of the one presence that he hardly +realized that her father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> was on his feet until his agonized voice rang +out:</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is as Mr. Norwood has said. My boy was brought home +unrecognizable beyond any words of mine to describe—as though all the +agencies of hell had been employed to hurt and disfigure his little body. +His once fair face was so gored with powder and blotched with colored +fires, that not a vestige of likeness remained.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis paused and closed his eyes. The room was deathly still—as +still as though the audience had been actually looking at little Laurens’ +mutilated face. His wife clasped his hand and Ruth whispered: “Have +courage, Father! Have courage!”</p> + +<p>Then he went on more calmly than before:</p> + +<p>“We never knew where he got the fireworks. They must have been given to +him; nor does it seem possible that one person could have given him all +that he appeared to have had. Mr. Schwarmer distributed fireworks very +freely that day but he insisted that he did not give any to Laurens and +not enough to any one boy to injure himself with. My idea is that some one +who was assisting Schwarmer in his distributions, must have given him some +of the colored pieces intended for evening display; and that he was seized +upon, or induced by other boys to go into the woods and stack them +together, in order to have a big explosion, and that he was the victim of +that explosion. Facts and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>circumstances have since come to light which +have confirmed this belief. Schwarmer brought a lad with him from the city +to help him celebrate. There were a great many strange boys in town. They +came from the surrounding country, walking in on the railroad tracks or +rowed down the river in rickety boats. There was a rumor that one boat +load of boys went over the falls and were drowned. Be that as it may, +there were undoubtedly a large number of rough characters attracted to +this place by Mr. Schwarmer’s free distribution of fireworks, and by the +alluring advertisements that appeared in all the country newspapers +hereabouts, with regard to it.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Cornwallis paused again, and again there was silence—the silence of +expectancy. He went on:</p> + +<p>“I have only one word more to say. The Lord help me to say it. I charge no +man with the death of my son, still I believe we are all more or less to +blame. We are surely to blame for allowing our National Day to be turned +into a fiery Moloch for the sacrifice of the youth of our land. I see it +as plain now as though it were written in letters of fire; and I ought to +have seen it before. I ought to have been doing something to guard our +little ones from this dreadful monster all these years while I have been +mourning for my boy; but the misery was so great, the mystery so +incomprehensible that I could not bear to think of it. It seemed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> as +though I should go crazy. Besides I had great fears for my wife and still +greater for my daughter. But all that has passed by, thank God, and I am +ready now to join you in the good cause.”</p> + +<p>He sat down amidst cries of “Amen” and “Amen!”</p> + +<p>Ruth leaned back in her seat and looked at Ralph radiantly. He continued +his statistics:</p> + +<p>“The next year two boys died of lockjaw, caused by the blank cartridges +known to have been given them by Mr. Schwarmer. Several others lost +fingers and eyes. If there are any of the latter present will they please +make it manifest?”</p> + +<p>Three young men rose to their feet. One was totally blind and the others +partially.</p> + +<p>Every eye in the hall was turned toward them and expressions of sympathy +were heard from all sides. These object lessons had a good effect, but +there was no time for more and Ralph hurried on with the statistics, +confident that no more were needed. The list being completed, then came +the question—Why was it that this town of Killsbury contributed the +largest quota to the Fourth of July death roll of any town in the state? +He sat down amidst cries of “why” and “shame on the town.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, shame on the town,” said a man rising promptly in his seat; “and +shame on Mr. Schwarmer. I think we all know that he is responsible for the +surplus of accidents in this town. That it is directly due to his +distribution of free fireworks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> among the ignorant and irresponsible +classes; for I happen to know that he doesn’t always draw the line at the +small boy. I saw him on one occasion throw boxes and boxes of firecrackers +and cartridges among a crowd that had collected around, just as kings do +money, and then stop and laugh to see the scrabbling after them.</p> + +<p>“Still I suppose we ought to go slow in the matter of fixing the blame on +Mr. Schwarmer—a valuable man and one who is supposed to have done or is +expected to do so much for the town though I can’t just tell what he has +done—can’t give the statistics, not having lived here always, as friend +Pollock who sits by my side has. Perhaps he can tell you.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be plagued if I can think of a plaguy thing he’s done for this +town,” said Pollock testily. “The fact is, he was born on the Town and our +fathers fed him and clothed him and gave him a good send-off as soon as +they saw that he had spunk enough in him to go. After he turned up in the +Stock Exchange, he paid them off by tom-fooling their sons and taking +every spare dollar from them to gamble with and lose for them and finally +win back again into his own pocket. I know <i>that</i> well enough for I knew +one of the tomfools. There were lots and lots of others, but they never +told how they got sucked in. It leaked out little by little though and +more than one spoke out plainly before they died; but it seems as though +we were determined to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> be blind, deaf and dumb in the matter and all +because he coddled us boys—giving us—what? Things to kill and disfigure +ourselves with. You see this crippled hand, don’t you?” he added, holding +up his right hand, which had three stiff fingers. “Well I am indebted to +<i>him</i> for that and I’ve cursed him for it many a time in secret, but I’ve +never been honest enough to out with it ’til now. That’s all he’s ever +done for me. I can’t say as to the carpenters that built his house. I +never heard that any of them got rich out of his carpentering though he +built a big house for himself, then a big stable for his horses, and then +an addition to the stable for more horses. All he’s ever done for the town +is to make a big show up on the hill, with his sky-scraper and sky +rockets. He has never benefited the people except with the kind of benefit +that a cat may get by looking at a king.”</p> + +<p>“That’s about it,” said a man in the back end of the hall, addressing his +remarks to those immediately about him. “There was a time when the boys +could go a fishing in the river and get a nice mess of Bull-heads for +Fourth of July dinner. But now he owns the river and all that’s in it. He +had Ben Hawley arrested last Fourth for fishing in <i>his</i> river. Humph! It +won’t be long before he will own us as well as the river. He thinks he has +more right to us now than the Lord Almighty.”</p> + +<p>“Keoo!” shouted an overgrown lad. “The river<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> is his and all that’s in it. +Let’s dump some more of his traps in the river. I’ll help, by gar, I +will!” At that moment Father Ferrill came in and took the noisy boy in +charge.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> +<p class="title">APPEAL INSTEAD OF PROHIBITION.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">The</span> matter of responsibility for the increase or rather surplus of +Independence Day accidents in the town of Killsbury, being settled the +question was, what should be done about it?</p> + +<p>Alderman Spofford proposed that “a paper—a smooth kind of paper such as +Lawyer Rattlinger could write should be gotten up and sent to Mr. +Schwarmer asking him to desist from distributing fireworks among the boys +of the town. He said he would like to hear Rattlinger’s views on the +subject.”</p> + +<p>“As I understand it,” replied Rattlinger, “the main object of this meeting +is to save our town from this year’s slaughter—a slaughter that will +surely take place if free fireworks are distributed here as usual. The day +is at hand. The peril is imminent. The question is what would we do if we +had word that the king of Spain had sent arms and munitions of war to this +place and that he would be here to-morrow to distribute them or arm the +irresponsible classes?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>“We would say he was the devil in disguise and we would have none of his +works,” said a white-haired man rising slowly in his seat. It was Philip +Daycoy, the oldest man in town. He had the reputation of being one of the +thirteen men who (painted and disguised as Indians) boarded the steamer, +Sir Robert Peel; and yelling their war cry—“Remember the Caroline,” put +the passengers to flight, plundered it and sent it ablaze down the river.</p> + +<p>“My proposition is that we do just about as our forefathers and the +Emperor of China did with the tea and opium that England tried to force +upon them.”</p> + +<p>There was a round of applause from the crowd that had gathered in the back +part of the hall and cries of “how! how! Tell us just how, Patriot Daycoy, +and by gorra, we’ll do it!”</p> + +<p>Was the brutal instinct being stirred up? Philip Daycoy, who was sitting +by the Reverend Dr. Normander, looked at him appealingly. Many a year had +elapsed since he had thought of himself as a patriot or of the burning of +the Sir Robert Peel as a truly patriotic transaction.</p> + +<p>“Help me out, for God’s sake, Doctor. I don’t like that brutal howling +back there. There must be a <i>way</i> and a right <i>way</i> to do this thing—a +way to do it without using muskets and bayonets and setting the cars on +fire.”</p> + +<p>The reverend gentleman arose quickly and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> stretched out his arms as though +to still a rising tempest.</p> + +<p>“Our aged brother Daycoy has authorized me to answer the question for him. +I know perfectly well how he feels about matters of this kind. He doesn’t +feel exactly as he did when he was young and inexperienced. He was only 18 +years old when he boarded the English steamer, with his revengeful cry. He +has learned a better and higher wisdom since then. He wants the right +thing done every time. He believes in extreme measures in extreme cases +but he does not believe in savage measures. That is, he does not propose +that we should disguise ourselves as Indians, arm ourselves with muskets +and bayonets and seize the patriotic stuff which Lawyer Rattlinger has +likened very aptly to arms and munitions of war. To dress like a savage +and use the war implements of the civilized man would be making a +composite of the worst features of both. He simply means that we must act +promptly and with sufficient energy to avert the horrible annual slaughter +so near at hand. I am with him in heart and soul. I believe the shortest +way would be the surest way and I, like the President, would take it if +possible; and I believe we all would. For instance, if by some miraculous +event, there should be a load of these dangerous explosives standing in +the street as we go out of this hall I believe we would seize upon them +with divine accord and proceed to throw them in the river or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> put them +where they could never harm any one. But as nothing so miraculous is +likely to occur I propose the next shortest way—that is that the common +council take the matter in hand and act promptly and to the full limit of +its power. My impression is that the City Fathers have a reserve of power +vested in them for such emergencies, and my belief is that the great +trouble with those in authority everywhere is that they fail to use the +authority when it is needed the most. If I am wrong on these points I hope +Lawyer Rattlinger will correct me.”</p> + +<p>“You are right in the main,” replied Rattlinger. “The City Fathers have a +reserve of power for just such cases and now is the time for the people to +call on them to use the reserve. It is needed now, every inch of it; and +the whole moral force of the people back of it. Begging the reverend +gentleman’s pardon, I think generally that the great trouble with the +people is that they do not come out as strongly as they should and make +their grievances known.”</p> + +<p>“That’s as true as Gospel, Mr. Rattlinger—at least as far as I am +concerned; and I wish, as a representative of the moral force (supposedly +so) to confess right here, that I have not done my whole duty with regard +to our Independence Day peril; for while I have lost no opportunity of +warning my church people against it, I feel that I have done very little +outside of the church and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> ought to repent, not exactly in sack-cloth and +ashes, but by doing double duty hereafter—working outside of the church +as well as in it. I therefore propose that a notice be drafted prohibiting +the selling or giving away of any kind of explosives to any person within +the corporation and that said notice be printed and posted up early +tomorrow morning in all of the most conspicuous places. I don’t know as to +the legal efficiency of such a notice in suppressing the nuisance at once, +but I think it would help very greatly. Am I right, Mr. President.”</p> + +<p>“In view of the shortness of time and more especially of the ease with +which prohibitory laws are evaded,” replied the President, “I propose that +instead of a prohibitory notice there be a short but stirring appeal to +the people, one and all, to refrain from buying, selling, using or giving +away any of the iniquitous Fourth of July implements. According to the +doctrine of love and trust that I have been taught, a good strong appeal +is far ahead of prohibition. Prohibition savors of tyranny and kingliness. +It is American bossism. It is squarely against human nature. Tell a child +he shan’t do a thing and impose a heavy penalty, and he is sure to do it, +if possible. It’s the same with children of a larger growth and more +especially so with the makers of millions. They care nothing for fines and +even imprisonment is being made delightful for them; but they have a lot +of human nature in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> them and they can be ruled by love as well as the rest +of humanity.</p> + +<p>“As to Millionaire Schwarmer we should love him for the good he <i>might +do</i>, and probably <i>would</i> do, had he been brought up and educated in an +Ideal Town and under an Ideal Government. We should love <i>him</i> and hate +his <i>fireworks</i> and rid ourselves of them as soon as we can get hold of +the infamous things. I see that Editor Parnell is present. I think he +could get up the right kind of an appeal—an appeal that would be so truly +loving that it would reach every heart and yet be as urgent as it possibly +can be without antagonizing the will. We would like to hear from him at +all events.”</p> + +<p>The editor replied “that he did not come to express his own opinions but +to report and publish the opinions of others, but he would say that he +thought the President’s idea of an appeal in place of prohibition was an +excellent one; and since he had given such a luminous idea of it, he was +willing to undertake it and would make it as urgent as possible without +distancing the party for whom it was chiefly intended.”</p> + +<p>He also begged leave to say “that although he was not quite up to +Thoreau’s idea of Civic disobedience, still he believed it necessary at +times to act quite contrary to government rules, or at least give the +governing powers a few instructions in civic procedure. As the matter now +stands we have two national days on our hands that have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>become public +nuisances to say the least. The one is Independence Day and the other is +Decoration Day. In my opinion they should be reformed, abolished or merged +into Thanksgiving Day and re-baptised.</p> + +<p>“But as this meeting under Golden Rule leading has added a sort of civic +confessional department, I am obliged to confess, like my aged brother, +Daycoy, that I did not feel that way when I was eighteen or thereabouts, +which leads me to suggest an educational department, or a return to the +old-fashioned Town meeting which contained the bud of the ‘<i>referendum</i>’ +that has borne such good fruit in far away Oregon and Switzerland.”</p> + +<p>The editor sat down amidst cheers, laughter and cries of “Draft the +appeal, Parnell.” “Make it urgent.”</p> + +<p>The appeal was drafted, read, approved and handed back to the editor for +printing and posting. Then the President made the closing speech in which +he said:</p> + +<p>“I believe we have done all that it is expedient to do at this time in +this direction. But we can work in a great many other directions—just as +many as there are persons in this hall. Everybody can do something +individually toward preventing Fourth of July accidents. As to Schwarmer I +hope the honest scoring he has had at this meeting will make a new man of +him. It may have been a little too <i>hard</i>, but formerly it was surely too +<i>soft</i>. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> fact it is difficult to treat a millionaire exactly right.</p> + +<p>“We incline to think that because a man is worth millions, he must have +every other good quality. This is absurd. He lives in the same world that +we live in, and if he does not live in a glass house, he <i>does</i> live in a +house with large plate glass windows in it, and is exposed to the same +surveillance and temptations. He has the same need of honest treatment. He +is drawn by the same chords of love and sympathy.</p> + +<p>“As to the children, I believe that one of the greatest obstacles in the +way of this reform is the inclination of the older people to shut their +eyes to the doings of the youngsters on this day. This will not do, my +friends. It is not until we have taught them the higher lessons of love +and right action for every day of the year, that we can hope to accomplish +a pure and permanent reform. Like Brother Parnell I believe in the +old-fashioned educative Town meeting, but I would not have it too +old-fashioned. The city mothers as well as fathers should be in it, just +as they are here tonight.”</p> + +<p>The meeting closed with the doxology. Father Ferrill and the Reverend Dr. +Normander went out arm in arm—and the miraculous happened! The overgrown +boy who shouted “Keeo! Let’s dump ’em in the river,” was sitting in his +express wagon under the strong light of the street lamp. As soon as he saw +the clergymen, he called out:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>“A miracle, Father Ferrill! Explosives unguarded, Dr. Normander! Shortest +way out of Fourth of July racket! I would like to know the sense of this +meeting. Will it have sense enough to order me to drive on to the river? +I’d like to drive on. Will the folks surround me? I’d like to be +surrounded. Will they help me dump this patriotic stuff into the river? +I’d like to be helped.”</p> + +<p>Father Ferrill went to the lad and spoke to him in a low tone of voice, +after which he rose up in his seat. The lamp flared full in his face. He +raised his eyes and made the sign of the cross.</p> + +<p>“This is the sign that his words are true,” said Father Ferrill turning to +the crowd. “It would seem that miraculous things do happen even in these +sinful days. The logic of it is this (You see I understand that the real +Yankee always wants a reason for everything): When a very important matter +agitates the community, no knowing where the wave will end or what it will +bring back to us. It is then that a miracle happens. Dr. Normander wished +for a miracle and something very like it has happened. The history of it +is this: This lad through whom the so-called miracle has come, was the +foster child of Captain Dan Solomon, who was killed several years ago by +the bursting of a cannon on Schwarmer Hill. He has always thought that +Schwarmer was to blame for that accident. He had an order from him this +afternoon to deliver the Fourth of July goods at his mansion on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> Hill. +He stopped in to this meeting on his way to the train. When Dr. Normander +expressed a desire to get his eye on those explosives he hastened out. Now +he is here with the atrocious things and has given me the bill to read for +your enlightenment:</p> + +<table style="margin-left: 0%;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="5" summary="table"> +<tr><td>200</td> + <td>boxes</td> + <td>of</td> + <td>firecrackers</td> + <td>(common)</td></tr> +<tr><td>100</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td>(giant)</td></tr> +<tr><td>100</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td>blank cartridges</td></tr> +<tr><td>50</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td align="center">"</td> + <td>Toy pistols</td></tr></table> + +<p>Express Agents please handle with care.</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">J. E. Schwarmer.</span>”</span></p> + +<p>“Yes! yes! We’ll handle them with care—on to the river!” shouted a chorus +of voices.</p> + +<p>“Where’s the President?” asked Father Ferrill.</p> + +<p>“Inside with the aldermen;” cried Ralph, “but we need not wait for him. We +will go on at once. He will approve. He believes in the people. He sings a +song about them. Come on Dick Solomon! Come on everybody! I will sing his +song for you while we go.” He burst forth in a beautiful tenor voice:</p> + +<p class="poem">“O I’m a man without a party—a free untrammeled soul!<br /> +An undivided atom, within a mighty whole!<br /> +I believe in all the people; in them we shall be blest,<br /> +It is through the common people we shall find the promised rest.”</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> 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.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“Do you suppose that any of those boxes could possibly be fished out?” +asked Ruth after the last box had gone over the falls.</p> + +<p>“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.”</p> + +<p>“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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> 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.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>They walked on in lover-like silence until Ruth broke out in her enthused +way:</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Ralph, I just love Father Ferrill!”</p> + +<p>“Hold on there! Not too much of that, Ruth!”</p> + +<p>“But I <i>do</i> love him very much! He’s so good and wise. Wasn’t it splendid +his re-version of Cromwell’s order?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ruth, it was very apt, but you are not to love him.”</p> + +<p>“Hush, Ralph! you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Ralph?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span>“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.”</p> + +<p>“It should be, ‘In times of peace prepare for more peace,’” said Ruth.</p> + +<p>“And love,” added Ralph.</p> + +<p>As to the rest of the crowd that wended their way homeward that night it +is safe to say that there was not a soul among them that did not feel +elated with the thought that they had done a deed that would save more +than one mother’s heart from anguish on the day that was fast approaching, +and might be the means of saving scores upon scores in the years that were +to come.</p> + +<p>The Golden Rule President was more than pleased when he found that the +shortest way had been made available, and that the people, “the blessed +people,” had caught the inspiration of Divinity and had done their own +work.</p> + +<p>Editor Parnell’s report was a luminous one; but whether it hit the +conscience or pride of one of the passengers on the Killsbury train the +next morning will be revealed hereafter.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> +<p class="title">A GOOD CELEBRATION—ADELAIDE SCHWARMER AND RUTH’S DOG.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Ralph</span> learned that the Schwarmer Pyrotechnics and the agent employed to +show them off had come as usual on the midnight train. His wife and +daughter had also come, so as a matter of course there would be an extra +display. They did not come every year as Schwarmer himself did.</p> + +<p>“They were in London last Fourth and were royally entertained by a +celebrated Pyrotechnist, who invented a patriotic piece called Eagle’s +Screams on purpose for them,” said Ralph.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps they brought one home with them.” laughed Ruth.</p> + +<p>“And will bring it to the Hill to show off,” added Ralph. “Well it will be +better and less dangerous than those abominable rockets.”</p> + +<p>“I thought rockets were not very dangerous, Ralph.”</p> + +<p>“There are rockets and rockets, sky rockets and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> war rockets and the +Satanic inventors are getting up new and worse ones every year. No knowing +what kind they have on the Hill. I have known of their having one at least +that travelled a much longer distance than from here to the Hill and then +went swooping down to the earth like a thunder bolt from the sky; but how +stupid of me to tell you so, dear. Forgive me if I have made you afraid.”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit, Ralph! I am never going to be afraid any more—that is, if you +will tell me all about those fiendish inventions, so I can keep out of +their way and help keep others out also. O how dreadful though to think +that such horrible things are made! Surely they never ought to be. They +are made to kill. They are a menace to human life on a prodigious scale +and the men who invent them are no better than would-be murderers and +should be arrested and treated as such.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true, Ruth, and yet the governments of the world approve and +hasten to buy the murderous inventions. There’s an inventor in this state +who has made a gun for this government that will throw a shell thirty +miles and crash a boat into kindling wood and kill every soul on board. +And now he is trying to invent one that will throw a shell one hundred +miles—one that can reach from the coast of France across the English +channel and rip out the heart of London!”</p> + +<p>“O how hideous!” exclaimed Ruth. “He must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> be a fiend incarnate; but what +about the Schwarmer rocket?”</p> + +<p>“Here it goes,” said Ralph.</p> + +<p>“Mamma came within an inch of having her arm gored by one of the rockets +sent down from the Hill only last year. She cautioned me not to write to +you about it. I thought it foolish not to; but perhaps it was right not to +tell you then. Now it is different. You have grown so brave—so suddenly +brave. It seems to me you are growing braver and braver every hour. It’s +like a miracle! Explain.”</p> + +<p>Ruth’s explanation set Ralph into raptures. Presently, however, she called +for an explanation in turn.</p> + +<p>“There isn’t much more to explain,” said Ralph. “We all sat on the piazza +watching the sky-rockets that were being sent up from the hill, at least +the rest were. If I remember rightly I wasn’t paying much attention to +them. My imagination had ‘crossed over’—you understand gone over the +border—across the river—you see?”</p> + +<p>“Yes! yes Ralph, you foolish fellow—go on.”</p> + +<p>“All at once up went a splendid rocket—ever and ever so high—‘up out of +sight,’ papa said; but he was mistaken, for a second after it came +whizzing down close by mamma’s arm and crashed into the ground. Mamma was +sitting very near to the edge of the veranda. If she had only been an inch +nearer it would have gashed her arm frightfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> without doubt. I dug the +thing up the next morning and am going to keep it in remembrance of +Millionaire Schwarmer.”</p> + +<p>“How did it look, Ralph? I never saw one except in air; tell me.”</p> + +<p>“A conical shaped piece of lead, Ruth—worse than a cannon ball, because +it has a pointed end. I’ll show it to you to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“We must tell the President about that and see if something can’t be done +before another Fourth comes to stop him from showering such things upon +the town,” said Ruth with decisive emphasis.</p> + +<p>Then they went to the grove and worked like heroes. Ere long there was a +great army of them. Tables were spread as if by magic and laden with +fowls, fruits, cakes and candies of all description. The brass band played +its best music. Flags fluttered in the breeze—mottoes were every-where +and over the arched entrance was the unique invitation—“A feast is better +than firecrackers. Come boys and girls. Save your eyes and your pennies.”</p> + +<p>They came in overwhelming numbers—hand in hand with their fathers, +mothers and teachers and with looks of eager interest on their young +faces. They enjoyed themselves and each other’s society as they never had +before on their nation’s birthday.</p> + +<p>In fact the whole community seemed to have been taken suddenly off its +feet (“out of the pit and miry clay” as the minister expressed it) and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +whirled up to a higher plane. He preached the best sermon of his life, if +it could be called a sermon. It was short and to the point—well adapted +to the higher plane on which he was standing with all the rest.</p> + +<p>Among the good things that he said was that “our National Day should be a +day of tender memories, regrets and righteous resolves—tender memories of +those who had died that we might have a free country in which to live. +Regrets that such death and bloody sacrifice should have been essential or +seemed so—deep regrets that we did not have a court of arbitration in the +pre-revolutionary times, such as we now have; and resolves to appeal to it +and abide by its wise decisions for all future time. As to this community +which has been so providentially turned God-ward, or lifted to a higher +plane let it be further resolved that we will maintain that high position +with our whole might and main—that we will go ahead in this good fight +until all these devil-caught celebrations, life-destroying games and +brutal amusements are done away with—or the devil in them cast out.”</p> + +<p>Ralph seconded the minister’s resolution and it was carried amidst +manifestations of great joy.</p> + +<p>It was afterward averred that the church people really kissed each other +according to the biblical instruction and it is true that many mothers +kissed their boys and that Ralph kissed Ruth fervently, whereupon those +who did not know of their <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>marriage became suddenly aware of it and +there was a general rush to kiss the bride and congratulate the +bridegroom.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox" style="width: 350px; height: 500px;"><img src="images/img03.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">A FEAST IS BETTER THAN FIRECRACKERS.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p>“And so they have got their wedding reception after all, Angeline,” +laughed Mr. Cornwallis, “and without any fussery or finery of the tiresome +cut and dried pattern.”</p> + +<p>Then the brass band played a wedding march. Lawyer Rattlinger and +President Hartling dropped in and made excellent, “higher plane” +speeches—that is, speeches delightfully devoid of brutish war-sentiment +and silly spread-eagleism—after which the Sunday-school children sang, +“God Bless Our Native Land,” with great vigor and were rewarded with a +delicious finish of ice-cream and lemonade.</p> + +<p>They went home as happy as larks, although their pockets were stuffed with +nuts and candies instead of baneful firecrackers and deadly toy-pistols—a +lively protest for their elders who have been too ready to say that a boy +will not be satisfied with anything that does not possess the elements of +noise and danger.</p> + +<p>As Ralph surmised, the Schwarmers were making great preparations for the +evening display. It was to be a splendid one. A select party had been +invited from the city to witness it. They came on the afternoon train +while the celebration was at its height; so their advent made no +sensation. The shops were closed and the streets were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> quite deserted, +greatly to Mr. Schwarmer’s chagrin, for in making his plans for a +brilliant gathering he had counted on a background of gaping people and +corruscating fireworks. The deficiency was so noticeable that Mr. Alfonso +Bombs, the rising Pyro-spectacle King of the city—the guest par +excellence whom he wished to honor in an appropriate manner, exclaimed +derisively:</p> + +<p>“How’s this, Schwarmer? Have they exhausted your huge supply already and +annihilated themselves in the performance? I thought this was your kingdom +(so to speak) and we should be treated to a triumphal entry.”</p> + +<p>Schwarmer would rather have had the matter unnoticed, but it was not and +he would not imperil his reputation for bluntness by keeping silence.</p> + +<p>“You’ve been in England too long, Alfonso. You’ve forgotten that we don’t +have things of that sort as they do on the other side of the pond—that +is, except in a way, you understand—an irregular sort of way. +Consequently we never know just what will take place at a given point, you +see—or just when a triumphal entry will materialize, so to speak, most +assuredly we don’t. It’s never been at all like this before; most +assuredly it hasn’t. There have always been plenty of racket, plenty of +fireworks and things of that sort from dawn to dark and fore and +aft—variegated with a run-away horse and excitements of that kind; but +the fact is a great moral wave has struck the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>town—a very large one. You +see, even a moral wave is liable to be of very large dimensions, this side +of the pond.”</p> + +<p>“Moral wave! Mr. Schwarmer,” drawled one of the ladies. “Re-al-ly you must +be joking. I have been educated to think it was an exceedingly immoral +procedure not to celebrate our Independence Day in an appropriate and +impressive manner.”</p> + +<p>“Impressive—yes truly impressive, dear lady; but you see it’s too +impressive sometimes—too largely impressive, as everything is apt to be +in this country—that is if it’s impressive at all, and now and then it +impresses the wrong boy. Last year a lawyer’s little boy had a finger +broken and an alderman’s boy had an eye hurt.”</p> + +<p>“Ah indeed! That was most unfortunate,” replied Miss Drawling; “and they +were people of consequence—that is, in this small community.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly! certainly—that is of the ‘toad in the puddle style’” laughed +Schwarmer. “So you see they called a meeting, a sort of grievance meeting +and resolved not to let their children have any more fireworks. Now I +believe they are having a pious celebration in the church grove or +graveyard, I don’t know which.”</p> + +<p>“Whew! oh whew!” whistled Mr. Bombs; “and so you have all that patriotic +fervor on your hands! Shall we make a bonfire of it tomorrow as a starter +to their lagging patriotism?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span>“Not unless we go a-fishing,” laughed Schwarmer, beckoning him aside. “You +know how a thing of that kind turns when the sediments are all stirred up +so to speak. A lot of cranks seized the fireworks and dumped them all into +the river! They fancied they were our forefathers, I suppose, dumping the +English tea into Boston Harbor—the knaves!”</p> + +<p>“Zounds!” exclaimed Mr. Bombs. “That was a steep proceeding. How high do +you suppose it will climb?”</p> + +<p>“K. K.,” replied Schwarmer. “Probably until the attention is called off by +some new thing—very new and of more dazzling proportions—like those new +inventions of yours—for instance.”</p> + +<p>“I understand! Good! Good! Nero is himself again. The siege of Yorktown! +The Battle of Gettysburg! and Johnny Bull’s Bellows to offset Pang’s Eagle +Screams! Eh, Schwarmer!” added Bombs in a low tone, giving him a sly poke +in the ribs; “and money made out of them. That’s better than giving away +things to an ungrateful public. They can’t throw Yorktown into the river +if they should try. You are a trump, Schwarmer.”</p> + +<p>That ended the business for Schwarmer. There was nothing that pleased him +better than being called a trump. He had not really intended to make a +business proposition; but the shrewd would-be million-maker and son of a +million-maker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> had construed it into that meaning, and it was understood +to be an unwritten bargain between them.</p> + +<p>Thereupon a great silence fell upon the spirit of Alfonso Bombs. He was +resting in rich security—the kind of security he liked. The $10,000,000 +that for a few brief moments seemed jeopardized would eventually flow into +the great Bombs’ coffers and the time would come when he would be more +envied than the President of the United States; and his old-time victor +would be beaten back to the place from whence he came.</p> + +<p>“Bah!” the thin lips parted with an ironical smile, and the word of +contempt came very near falling out. He congratulated himself on having +checked it in time, for turning aside he saw a pair of clear but rather +penetrating eyes looking directly at him, and a gentle voice asked:</p> + +<p>“What is it that pleases you so dreadfully, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>It was the voice of Adelaide Schwarmer.</p> + +<p>“O! Ah! Beg pardon, Miss Adelaide,” said Mr. Bombs, in the flurried way +which was usual with him when she asked him a sudden question, although +she was only a chit of a girl, barely fifteen years of age.</p> + +<p>“For the smile or the style of it, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“For both if need be; but where did you come from so suddenly? I didn’t +see you at the train.”</p> + +<p>“No, I wasn’t there, I stopped to shake paws with—guess who?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>“The baker or candlestick-maker or some stick-at-home fellow. Most of the +folks seem to have gone away.”</p> + +<p>“No, it was a dog—Ruth Cornwallis’ dog. He’s funny. He always wants to +shake paws with me when I come. I haven’t been here in two years, but he +was on hand to <i>shake</i> all the same. I wonder why?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t say, Miss Adelaide. All I know is that dogs were on hand to bark at +us when we got off from the train, quite a number of them and there was +one that led the band.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if it was Ruth’s—he came running from that way. How did he +look?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t say. They looked so much alike; but I think this one had a new +white collar on, as though there had been a wedding in the family.”</p> + +<p>“O that’s the one, Mr. Bombs. I wonder what made him bark at <i>you</i>?”</p> + +<p>“None but a dog could tell, Miss Adelaide, and they are dumb.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t blame him if you had that dreadful smile on, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“It wouldn’t do any good to blame him anyhow, Miss Adelaide. Dogs know +what they are about as well as folks.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you think it does any good to blame folks when they do wrong?”</p> + +<p>“Not much, not much. Sometimes it does harm—almost always to contrary +people.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>“Well, I’m going to blame them any way every time I see them doing +anything I <i>know</i> is wrong after this and take the chances. I’ll be +fifteen years old tomorrow.”</p> + +<p>“Better put it off until you are of age, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“No, I will not, Mr. Bombs. You needn’t smile that smile—I’m going to +begin tomorrow at the very hour.”</p> + +<p>They walked slowly up the hill while the rest of the party dashed by them +in the Schwarmer turnouts; but they did not speak to each other again + +until the party had gathered on the broad veranda to witness the evening’s +entertainment.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +<p class="title">ALFONSO BOMBS’ PYROTECHNICS AND ADELAIDE SCHWARMER’S BLAME.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Mr. Bombs</span> had brought with him some of the most elaborate and artistic +works known to the trade. He had in mind works of a much grander and more +instructive nature—works that would be truly great and high and far +reaching (so he said); works that would be fit for the greatest king on +earth to look at; that would startle and vivify the entire world and make +the family name illustrious. He had been collecting material for his works +throughout his college course—historical events, especially the burning +and storming of cities and such of the battles and conflicts as lent +themselves readily to pyrotechnic delineation. He was busy experimenting +with his material. He expected to have his first historical piece finished +by this time next year, and he was happy to think he had secured so good a +place for its representation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>He thought the people of the town would like it—this new and higher +development of pyrotechnic art; but that it did not matter much whether +they liked it or not. There would be a big crowd from the city of invited +guests and others, for Schwarmer would be in it heart and soul as well as +purse. He had given him efficient aid in getting his pieces ready for the +evening.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if those idiots down below will disdain to watch our +performance,” asked Bombs, as he was about to begin.</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly not—that is after they’ve spanked the children and sent them +to bed,” laughed Schwarmer. “That’s the extent of the moral wave with that +sort of people. It generally stops with the youngsters. After they are +disposed of they’ll sit on their door stones until the last flare, most +assuredly they will. Shall we send a searchlight after them?”</p> + +<p>“No! no! Schwarmer. We can’t afford to waste time and timber, hunting up +such light-quenchers. We can’t begin any lower down than ‘<i>mosaics</i>’ if we +do full justice to ‘<i>Tourbillions</i>’—that is get in all the inventions and +improvements which I have made the last year.”</p> + +<p>“Go on, then, Alfonso. Let’s have the improvements life-size and +inventions too, all of them, though the heavens should fall and the +nearest stars have to be knocked out, so to speak?”</p> + +<p>“O papa! papa!” exclaimed Adelaide in a tone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> of reproach, “true stars are +so much prettier than manufactured ones can possibly be, and they don’t +tire anybody to death.”</p> + +<p>Bombs winced but he went about his mosaics and was soon receiving +flattering comments and profuse compliments from the guests.</p> + +<p>“Allow me to congratulate you, Mr. Bombs,” said Miss Drawling. “Your +mosaics are truly splendid, especially the designs of your own invention. +They are quite beyond the artist’s dream. I saw a great many pieces of +mocaic work when I visited the galleries of Greece and Rome. They were +supposed to be very wonderful but commend yours to me.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks and thanks for such kindly appreciation,” replied Bombs, bending +low and glancing aside at Adelaide. She had not retired, and was looking +as though she were trying to be amused.</p> + +<p>“I never cared much for mosaics,” remarked Mrs. Shannon—“the real ones. +They are so small and look so trifling and dull; but yours are bright and +sizable and so charmingly changeable, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>Even while the shower of compliments was in process the many colored +pieces gave a sudden toss up as though in disdain and came down in the +form of letters—at least the letters were there dancing along on the +dusky background and arranging themselves into words; and the words were +“Welcome to Schwarmer Hill!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>It was pronounced “a charming welcome.”</p> + +<p>“Written in all the colors of the rainbow and without the tiresome pen and +ink,” remarked Miss Drawling. It was a surprise even to the Schwarmers. +They were highly delighted—at least Mr. and Mrs. Schwarmer. Miss Adelaide +was inhaling the fragrance of a rose which she had brought in from the +dewy garden. She said nothing; but the guests were enthusiastic in their +praises—especially of the dexterity which had been displayed.</p> + +<p>“A warm welcome, indeed,” was the fiat of the college bred Miss +Hannibal—“written in letters of fire; and such letters! So graceful and +serpentine! and some of them quite new! Your own invention or modification +without a doubt. Surely I have never seen anything in the shape of letters +so perfectly unique!”</p> + +<p>After the fiery welcome there was a fountain.</p> + +<p>“Guests are supposed to be thirsty,” remarked Dr. Orison. “That was a +happy thought of yours, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“And you must have patterned it after the famous old Italian fountains,” +added his wife—“the royal ones that were filled with wines of all kinds +and colors and sparkle and spirit also. You are a genius, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>After that there were palm trees and Highland tartans, which were duly +praised and commented upon.</p> + +<p>Then came the sun—the last of the fixed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>fireworks. Then the rotating +ones—the firewheels and finally the whole solar system. After this there +was an intermission of half an hour during which the guests were regaled +with rare wines, cakes and cigars.</p> + +<p>Young Bombs shied away from the flattering spectators and went over to the +secluded corner where Adelaide was sitting. He had a full goblet of wine +in one hand and a choice Havana cigar in the other. He did not go because +he was especially or magnetically drawn or wanted her society, but because +he wanted no society. It had been something of a strain on his nerves to +see that everything went off right and was effectively and harmoniously +arranged, and the end was not yet. He was in no mood to listen to +extravagant praise, and he knew where he would not get it.</p> + +<p>Adelaide still had the rose in hand and was enjoying its beauty—bestowing +loving looks and lips upon it as well and inhaling its fragrance.</p> + +<p>“Nothing but a rose,” said Bombs, after he had seated himself leisurely at +her side and taken a sip of wine.</p> + +<p>“Nothing but a rose,” repeated Adelaide; “but a rose is a great deal, Mr. +Bombs. It is beauty, fragrance and color—soft and restful color.”</p> + +<p>“O! I understand. I know you don’t like fireworks, nor much of anything as +yet—that is in the line of human invention.”</p> + +<p>“I like human inventions but I don’t like inhuman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> ones that dazzle my +eyes out. I think they would make me stone blind if I <i>had</i> to look at +them long at a time.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bombs looked at her fixedly while he continued to sip the wine. He +noticed for the first time that her eyes were of the palest blue and her +hair of the palest gold and wondered if there was anything in her physical +makeup that made it naturally antagonistic to fiery display. “Did the +doves hate fireworks and did the serpents like them?” was the question he +asked himself.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you will like my new piece better,” he remarked after he had +finished the wine. “Tourbillions are a higher form of Pyro.”</p> + +<p>“When is your new piece going to be spoken?” laughed Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“At the end, of course. You hadn’t better <i>retire</i>—it might wake you up. +It will be huge, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“The bigger they are the more I don’t like them, Mr. Bombs. The little +ones tire me and the big ones scare me. You know how I screamed when that +horrid London Pyro-King sent off his biggest rockets. They looked so +dangerous—as though a terrible comet or electric storm were crashing into +the earth to destroy it. Is your new piece dangerous, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“Not very, I hope, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“You mean that it <i>is</i> a little dangerous, Mr. Bombs. Now I want to know +if you don’t think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> there are dangerous things enough in the world without +inventing any more?”</p> + +<p>“I think you are mightily like old Pythagoras, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“Why so, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“He was said to be an ‘<i>assiduous questioner</i>’, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>That ended it. He lighted his cigar and went out into the garden.</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards the Tourbillions began to ascend; and the heavens, at +least that portion of them that belonged to Schwarmer Hill, was soon +filled with jets and coils of flame and stars of many magnitudes and +colors. The spectators appeared to be highly delighted—all except +Adelaide. She was growing tired. Her eyes burned, her head ached and she +was thinking of going to her room, when suddenly the sky cleared and she +heard the voice of Bombs announcing the closing piece—“his new +contribution to Pyrotechnic art.”</p> + +<p>He said among other things that he had invented the piece especially for +this occasion; that it had as yet no name; that he had left it for the +ladies to name—that is, if it proved to be a success, or materialized as +he expected it would. Otherwise it might better be nameless; for if it +were mentioned at all it would be called “The light that failed.” However +he would say this much as to its composition and intention. It was +intended to be a sort of cross between the girandole and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> war-rocket. +The girandole proper was getting to be rather monotonous, having been used +as the end piece to pyro-spectacles for fifty years or more. He thought it +was high time to have a new one. It was also necessary that the new one +should be superior to the old one, both in size and splendor of coloring. +There was no such thing as going backward in this matter. We might as well +talk of the decadence of American institutions or the annihilation of “The +Fourth of July.”</p> + +<p>“As to its composition,” continued Bombs, “I think you will believe after +you have seen it, that it was no slight thing to get up a piece of this +kind—so many points had to be considered. As an example there was the one +thing of garniture. The ladies will appreciate this very readily. If I +mistake not, a lady would think a week spent in selecting the proper +trimmings for her dress was a long time. What then would she say if I told +her that I spent two months selecting the most effective garniture for my +piece—two months to get it entirely out of the region of commonness—the +region of gold and silver rain and of the ‘Peacock’s Tail!’” The ladies +waved their fans and clapped their hands, during which commotion Mr. Bombs +disappeared from view.</p> + +<p>While Adelaide was wondering where he had gone to so suddenly, a huge +stream of serpentine fire issued from the Engine House. It grew larger and +larger every moment. It lifted itself into <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>monstrous coils. It hissed and +sent forth tongues of flame. It vomited forth all sorts of hideous shapes, +in all sorts of lurid colors, ever increasing in size and horror until no +more could be conceived—then there was a loud report and a great globe of +fire plunged downward and disappeared behind the brow of the hill!</p> + +<p>The gentlemen applauded. Bombs had said in the beginning that the piece +was a cross between a war rocket and a girandole and they supposed that +the report and the ball of fire was the war part of it, but Adelaide knew +that it was an accident and she thought of the gardener’s cottage with a +thrill of fear.</p> + +<p>A moment afterwards a sheet of light and flame came streaming up from that +direction, a woman’s voice cried “Fire! Fire!” and a woman’s form clad in +white appeared on the fiery background. The spectators were startled for +the moment; then they broke out in wild applause.</p> + +<p>Dr. Orison said “It is ever thus after war.”</p> + +<p>The woman was standing still with her arms twisted about her body, as +though in mortal agony. They thought she was there advisedly to represent +the realistic finishing of Mr. Bombs’ piece. But they were soon +undeceived. Another cry rent the air.</p> + +<p>“It’s Mary, the gardener’s wife! Help! help! Her house must be on fire.”</p> + +<p>It was the cry of Adelaide Schwarmer as she ran to her assistance.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div class="bbox" style="width: 348px; height: 500px;"><img src="images/img04.jpg" alt="" /></div> +<p class="caption">“FIRE, FIRE!” CRIED A VOICE.</p> +<p> </p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span>“O my baby! My baby!” moaned the poor woman stumbling along toward her.</p> + +<p>“Where is it, where?” asked Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“Lost! Lost!” she cried, sinking down in a dead faint.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Schwarmer divined the situation and was soon at her side. She threw +her magnificent shawl over the prostrate figure. Her husband was sent for. +He was in the kitchen helping the servants. They came and carried her in. +Dr. Orison offered his services and the rest of the men hastened to the +fire; but a stream of water was pouring down on it from the Engine House +and their aid was not needed. They returned and reported that “the fire +was a trifling affair.”</p> + +<p>“But where is her baby!” asked Adelaide. “She said she had lost her baby. +We must find it for her.”</p> + +<p>“Adelaide,” said her mother sternly, “go to your room at once. It is not +proper for you to ask questions about such matters. Your father and Mr. +Bombs will make whatever search the doctor thinks necessary.”</p> + +<p>Half an hour afterwards Dr. Orison returned to the guests and reported the +woman to be out of danger. His silence with regard to the baby was +understood to mean that it had never lived and that it was a matter of no +earthly consequence.</p> + +<p>A matter of much greater interest to one and all of the gay people +assembled there, appeared to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> be Mr. Bombs’ ingenious explanation with +regard to the failure of his piece and his prompt action in turning on the +hose for the quenching of the fire—for the last of which he received many +compliments.</p> + +<p>On the contrary Adelaide could think of nothing but the gardener’s wife +and her lost baby. She could not sleep. She was in an agony of +suspense—to know how it had fared with them. She thought the guests would +talk it over at the breakfast table; but she was mistaken. Not a word was +said about it and all seemed as lively as though nothing at all had +happened. She did not dare to ask them any questions on the subject after +her mother’s rebuke, but she knew she could ask her father. She saw him +out on the hill and ran after him.</p> + +<p>“Mary! poor Mary! how is she, father?” she gasped out.</p> + +<p>“O! she’s all right Addie, only a little scare. She’ll be all right again +in a few days the doctor says.”</p> + +<p>“And the baby. Did you find the baby?”</p> + +<p>“Yes we found it, Addie, and took it to her. Bombs found it just over +there by that clump of milkweeds—but it wasn’t much of a find—most +assuredly it wasn’t. It was dead of course; and I guess it was a +Providence for they’ve got two little tots now and they’re not very +forehanded. If they kept on at that rate they’ll have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> swarm of them +soon, and I shall have to turn them off.”</p> + +<p>“O don’t say that! It’s dreadful. She loved her baby and she was in such +agony when she lost it! O I never saw such agony! You must not turn them +off—never, never. It would be wrong, I know it would after this awful +fright! We ought to give them something to make up for it. I know we had, +father! I know it! And I’m going to give her all I have got in my purse +and I shall remember her as long as I live!”</p> + +<p>“Softly Addie! Softly! Don’t let any of the gentry over there hear you. +They’d think you were crazy. We’ll fix it between ourselves—we won’t be +hard on them if they do have a big swarm. We’ll see that they don’t +starve. Most assuredly we will.”</p> + +<p>“They ought to have good big wages. They make the flowers grow so +beautifully.”</p> + +<p>“Yes Addie the flowers are all right; but where’s the lawn, the green +velvet lawn that your mamma raves about so much. The grass can’t grow with +so many little feet trotting over it.”</p> + +<p>“But little feet are of more consequence than grass, you know they are, +only you don’t stop to think. And little children are better than +fireworks. I wish all the ugly old fireworks were at the bottom of the +sea. You ought not to have let Mr. Bombs send off his piece over the +gardener’s house.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>He had not told her about the fireworks that were at the bottom of the +river and he hated the idea of doing so. He turned away and she went to +the engine house. Bombs was there. She was going to blame him for what had +happened—that is all that he deserved to be.</p> + +<p>“Was your piece more dangerous than you thought, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“Well, rather, Miss Adelaide—that is I didn’t expect it was going to +burst up—or down I should say.”</p> + +<p>“But you knew it was dangerous enough to set things on fire if it <i>did</i> +burst and strike them, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss, I knew enough for that.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are to blame for sending it off where you <i>did</i>, Mr. Bombs, and +father is to blame for letting you do it. I have just told him so.”</p> + +<p>“There was no other place—that is handy—where the ladies could see it +and be comfortably seated, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“Then there ought to have been a place made, Mr. Bombs, and if there +couldn’t have been, then you ought not to have sent it off at <i>all</i>. You +know you had not, and I shall always blame you for it. It was very, very +wrong.”</p> + +<p>“I see!” laughed Bombs. “You are on your blaming expedition this morning, +Miss Adelaide. You are right about having a place made, though. There +ought to be for large works; and when I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> get my historical piece done +there will be a place on purpose for it—a large place—a sort of a grand +amphitheatre something like the old Roman but Americanized and more +enjoyable. That’s my ambition. I have got through even with +tourbillions.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +<p class="title">SCHWARMER’S THREATENED ARREST.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Mr. Schwarmer</span> was a man who talked very bluntly, so he admitted, but he +expected to give his hearers the impression that his bluntness was simply +a species of noble frankness. The next day but one after Independence Day, +he informed the few acquaintances whom he happened to meet at the depot, +that he was obliged to return to the city at once for two reasons. The +first was a rise in stocks and the second was to see his family off on the +steamer, but that he would return on the fifteenth of the month and arrest +and punish the chief leaders in the plot which had resulted in the +destruction of his property.</p> + +<p>For once or rather for the first time in his dealings with the Killsbury +community, his bluntness was taken literally and turned to good account. A +mass meeting was not called but there was a great deal of calling and +consulting among the women of the town. Ruth Cornwallis Norwood was very +busy during the interval of expectancy. She set<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> her own wits to work and +inspired others to do the same. The result was that rather a novel plan +was proposed—“So novel that it was funny,” said the President’s wife; but +the more they talked and laughed about it, the more they thought they +would try it. They assumed to begin, with that they instead of their +husbands were the chief leaders or instigators in the destruction of the +Schwarmer property. Ruth was duly charged with and promptly confessed +being at the head of the whole affair. Therefore it was resolved that when +the dread day came and the dread form of Millionaire Schwarmer was +apparent on the Hill, they would not wait to be arrested. They would call +on him in a body and deliver themselves up. They reasoned that it would be +a pity to put him to the trouble of arresting them singly; besides it +would be a great expense to the town. They supposed that the citizens of +the town would have to pay for all the arrests and they felt sure that +they couldn’t afford to—or at least that they had a right to cut down +their own expenses wherever they chose. They had other ideas in their +heads also. Some of them could make speeches and delivering themselves up +to Mr. Schwarmer gave them a chance.</p> + +<p>In an interview with President Hartling, he said:</p> + +<p>“I agree with you. There’s many a truth spoken in jest and my opinion is +that women excel in this direction.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span>Then he stopped and hummed a tune that wound up with the words:</p> + +<p class="poem">“I believe in all the people<br /> +’Tis through them we shall be blest.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he added, “I believe especially in the women people and my +impression is that the women of this town can settle this business with +Schwarmer. You know what the town needs and what he has always been +promising it. After the arrests are settled you might extend your wits and +get him to ‘fork over’ as the boys say. I can’t tell you just how to do +it. I don’t like the bossing business and I’m sure you will know how to +act better than I can tell you. The work of the Common Council is to get +their ordinance in good working order before the next Independence Day +comes. Father Ferrill’s miracle and the appeal brought us through safely +this year. The educational and moral waves which are the only true +preparation for good laws were set in motion; but something more may be +required next year for the scourging of the money-changers. There are +signs in the air that prohibitory measures will have to be resorted to.</p> + +<p>“Schwarmer’s determination to distribute fireworks in spite of the appeal +is a sign,” said Ralph. He repeated the whole story, not even leaving out +Ruth’s experience with Mr. Schwarmer in the matter.</p> + +<p>“I see,” said the President. “Many kinds of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> effort will have to be made +to squelch this many-headed monster. More and more laws may be called for +but it makes me sad to think of it. I am prejudiced against law—its +autocracy, its insulting enforcements, its perplexing entanglements. As to +celebrations when they grow to be such dangerous nuisances as to require +the interference of law to any great extent, it is a sure sign that they +ought to be done away with.”</p> + +<p>“How I wish this savage old Fourth which is so full of boasting and +danger, <i>could</i> be done away with!” said Ruth. “It will be so hard to make +it entirely harmless—especially for the children—the little innocent +children who are born into the world so helpless, and have to live in it +so many years before they can learn how to avoid its dangers—the simple +every day dangers, to say nothing of the complex and deadly ones that lie +concealed beneath attractive forms. Who have to be taught, denied, +imprisoned and punished every step of the way almost. O what a task for +loving parents!”</p> + +<p>“And what a shame,” said Ralph, “that people should go on inventing and +manufacturing more and more of those horrible things and almost forcing +them onto the community and into children’s hands! What can we do about +that?”</p> + +<p>“There’s a place for strong prohibitory laws and a call for the +enforcement of those we have. Appeals are all right for sensible grown-up +American citizens; but the young and innocent should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> not be permitted to +walk into the fire, the idiotic and mercenary should not be allowed to +furnish the fire for them to walk into, and the devil’s imps should be +prohibited from pushing them into it. Yes this is a good place for +prohibition. Prohibition that <i>does</i> prohibit—not as it now stands. I +believe that the whole system will have to be overhauled to make it +largely effective. That the general government will have to take it in +hand and appoint earnest ununiformed watchers for all perilous times and +places.”</p> + +<p>“O that would be splendid,” cried Ruth—“like having guardian angels, +invisible but earthly, for the young and innocent!”</p> + +<p>“They are not here yet, dear,” laughed Ralph, “except for the President of +the United States and others in authority, but I’m sure they are needed. +It’s a sorry spectacle to see the small boy dodging the policeman and the +hoodlum intimidating him with stones. I am glad we did not have a +prohibitive notice on that account, besides Schwarmer’s hand would not +have shown up so plainly.”</p> + +<p>“And so am I,” said Ruth. Then she thought of the hand that had tried to +pat her shoulder and blushed while Ralph grated his teeth and the +President said in a serious voice:</p> + +<p>“And I was just beginning to be sorry that we did not accept Dr. +Normander’s wise prohibition to back the appeal since I perceive that lack +of it has caused you needless trouble, insult and expense.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>“O we did not care about that, our hearts and souls were in it,” said Ruth +and Ralph in chorus.</p> + +<p>“But I care about it. It was not right. I perceive it would grow to be a +grievous burden, <i>it</i> must not go on,” he added in a pre-occupied way as +though speaking to himself. “Providence has helped me through this time +but I almost know He would not do it again. He has shown me the way. I +will strive to walk in it. There are many lights by the way. I believe +they are all essential and will be suffused at last into the one great +light—the eternal verity.”</p> + +<p>A moment later Dr. Normander came in.</p> + +<p>“You are just in time, Doctor. I was going over to confess that your way +was better than mine; or that my appeal needed your prohibitive crutch. +Why didn’t you argue me down—down to the practical level at least? They +call me a Golden Rule Man, but I am only a President—a figure-head, a +blundering mortal and too much afraid of having more laws than are +necessary, or than will be obeyed without hatred and strife.”</p> + +<p>“Because I am prejudiced in favor of the loving appeal—the higher way, I +suppose,” laughed Dr. Normander.</p> + +<p>“But you did not propose it, Doctor. Did you think that the higher +way—the way of appeal, was too high to be largely operative?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I could hardly help thinking that, for I have been preaching it for +years; but I had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> glimpse of the immediate good that a wise prohibition +might do.”</p> + +<p>“And the one you proposed covered Schwarmer very neatly, I noticed,” +laughed the President, “but I don’t remember the exact wording.”</p> + +<p>“It was not reduced to legal form but the idea was to prohibit the sale +and giving away of all the dangerous Independence Day Fireworks,” said Dr. +Normander.</p> + +<p>“That will help, and we will have it put in legal phrase and made ready +for use without delay; for I begin to think that Schwarmer is not to be +trusted in this matter. He may need as many as two or three chains to hold +him, that is, unless some sort of miraculous conversion overtakes him. You +know miracles do happen now and then, Doctor, and I am rather expecting +one from The Woman’s Educational or Missionary Department before the next +Independence Day begins,” laughed the President. “There is no greater pest +to society than a millionaire idiot, and there is no better way to get him +to use his money rightly than to hand him over to the best women of +society.”</p> + +<p>“One more question before we are arrested, or arrest ourselves,” laughed +Ruth.</p> + +<p>“Can a law be made to prohibit Schwarmer or his guests from showering +rockets on the town?”</p> + +<p>“After he is through with the arresting business, we will see about the +showering,” replied the President. “I fancy he will not be so much +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>enamored after that, with fiery showers as with those of a gentler kind, +and really I don’t know as any laws could be made to prevent a man from +having fireworks on his own premises, but he could be arrested for damages +to the property or persons of others.”</p> + +<p>“But we want him arrested from <i>doing</i> damages and burning up money,” said +Ruth.</p> + +<p>“Then I believe you women will have to do it,” laughed the President. “The +law isn’t premature enough. However if you fail I will study it up and see +what it will do. I think the way is being prepared on the banks of the +Hudson, by the Yale graduate who is dying at the house of a millionaire, +from an injury received by a flying rocket.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> +<p class="title">THE KILLSBURY WOMEN ARREST THEMSELVES.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">On</span> the fifteenth of July Schwarmer came as he was expected to do; for +besides being a blunt man, he was known to be one who rarely broke his +promise. He arrived on the morning train and in the afternoon while he was +sitting in his beautiful office with the Golden Rule President on one side +of him and Lawyer Rattlinger on the other, the door opened suddenly and +disclosed a very pretty sight—namely a procession of ladies tastefully +hatted and gowned. The ribbons which were fastened daintily on their +shoulders fluttered like wings in the strong breeze caused by the opening +of the door.</p> + +<p>He had been informed that a delegation of ladies would do themselves the +honor of calling upon him to ask a favor, the nature of which was not +apparent, so he arose to his feet at once, with his broad smile and blunt +speech.</p> + +<p>“Bless you ladies! Really ladies! This is a great and unexpected surprise. +A truly great and truly happy one. Bless you all. How lovely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> you look. +You do me proud, most assuredly you do. Ask me any faver you choose. I +almost know what it will be before you open your pretty lips—pardon or +excuses for your husbands or sons for the destruction of my property. +Ladies are always doing something of that kind, God bless them! I feel +like accepting even before you ask me to, most assuredly I do. I know it +wasn’t your fault. I know ladies don’t approve of such violent doings or +go into them, unless dragged in by their husbands or sweethearts. I +understand that. I shouldn’t be my mother’s son if I didn’t, ladies. You +may make your requests without fear or trembling. I am blunt in my speech +but I trust my treatment of ladies is exactly the reverse.”</p> + +<p>The lawyer winked at the President as much as to say that exactly the +reverse of blunt would be sharp; but his wife was among the crowd and as +she was a lady who laughed easily he felt obliged to keep his countenance +of the usual length.</p> + +<p>“The ladies, God bless them,” Schwarmer continued in his closing +peroration. “They are all angels—all except those that are very strongly +tempted to be the reverse.”</p> + +<p>The President’s wife laughed this time in spite of her husband’s long +drawn face. Several others caught the infection. No knowing where it would +have ended had not Mr. Schwarmer sat down suddenly. They knew that their +time had come and the thought sobered them.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>Mrs. Muelenberg was the first to speak. She said:</p> + +<p>“We know you are very kind, Mr. Schwarmer, and we have come to make our +confessions and ask you for substantial proofs of your kindness. We all +had a hand in the destruction of your property—a free hand, and we are +going to tell you why and pay the damages. We are averse to the +technicalities, expense and delay of the law, so after we have made our +plea—that is, all the plea we <i>can</i> make, we trust that you will make out +your bill. We have brought our purses and wish to settle the damages on +the spot.”</p> + +<p>“Damages against the ladies!” gasped Schwarmer, looking with dismay at the +purses conspicuously displayed. “My intention is to settle this little +matter with the men who had a hand in it. I don’t want any pay for my +property, dear ladies. Rest assured I am not that sort of a man. All that +I shall insist upon is to have the law respected—the rights of property +regarded.”</p> + +<p>“And all that we shall insist on, if it goes to the courts, is that the +rights of mothers be respected and the lives of their children properly +regarded,” said Mrs. Rattlinger. “I am not a lawyer but I am a lawyer’s +wife and I think I know about where we should stand in such a case.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you do,” replied Schwarmer, “and being a wife and mother, very +naturally you would, as one and all thus situated. I shall see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> to it that +no harm comes to you, rest assured I shall. I have an almost unbounded +respect for mothers and a great tenderness for children and would be more +than willing to do all I could to prevent them from injury on our natal +day, without interfering with its proper enjoyment, most assuredly I +would. I am very fond of them all. I lament with our <i>lamentable</i> +President that there are not more mothers and more children. There can’t +be too many of them to suit me. It takes a great many to keep up the +supply, as they are more prone to accidents than grown people, especially +on and around our glorious Fourth—for the reason that their little hands +and pockets which patriotism requires us to fill with firecrackers, are so +much nearer their little eyes than ours are. Most assuredly they are. For +these and other reasons of a similar nature, there can’t be too many +children born into the world. They make it lively. Truly, ladies, I am a +very blunt man and I must say that I think mothers should have many more +children than they do have. Yes, a great many more and be happy to do so. +Very happy indeed, ladies. There is no sight on earth so perfectly lovely +in my estimation as that of a mother surrounded with her children. +Completely surrounded I should say—north and south, east and +west—surrounded as with a halo, so to speak.”</p> + +<p>Schwarmer’s pronunciation of <i>halo</i> sounded so much like <i>hello</i> that +Sybil Bolt, whose little boy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> had lost a finger three years before, in +consequence of his Independence Day gift, whispered to the woman who stood +next to her:</p> + +<p>“Yes a fine hello—young ones with their fingers blown off, eyes blown +out, and faces scarred.”</p> + +<p>She whispered loud enough to be heard across the room and Schwarmer may or +may not have heard her. He continued:</p> + +<p>“Don’t be alarmed, my dear ladies. I wouldn’t have the heart to hurt a +hair of your heads, nor a hair that belonged to your children. Be assured +I shall lay up nothing against you, and I’m not going to be hard with your +husbands and lovers either, rest assured I am not. Go in peace.”</p> + +<p>He waved his hand as though waving them out; but they did not “follow the +wave.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Normander came to the front and gave the list of accidents as Ralph +had done at the mass meeting. She also repeated the statement that the +list was out of all proportion to that of other towns throughout the +state. Then she turned upon him squarely.</p> + +<p>This being the case the question was, why it was so? “You know how that +question was settled at the meeting, Mr. Schwarmer, and the result.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know,” said Schwarmer, “that my property was meddled with and I +know that accidents occur or are liable to occur all over the country on +the Fourth, and we don’t know where they will occur, nor how many will +occur at a given<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> point, most assuredly we don’t, and we don’t know just +how many occur in our own town. They are not always reported, or made much +of. There will be accidents on that day as a matter of course, truly there +always have been and must be—it’s an accidental world—full of accident +policies—eh, ladies? The Fourth of July wouldn’t be the Fourth without +accidents, surely it wouldn’t, would it ladies?”</p> + +<p>“Yes it would,” said Mrs. Normander. “We have had one this year—a lovely +Fourth. We all enjoyed it—especially the children. They said they had +never had such a splendid Independence Day. They had no fireworks and not +a single one was hurt. We heard there was quite a serious accident at your +place where you had an elaborate pyrotechnic display.”</p> + +<p>“O! a small one, ladies, a very small one—truly very small—not worth +mentioning, ladies.”</p> + +<p>“Not for you,” cried out a voice angrily; “but for the poor mother who +lost her child!”</p> + +<p>She broke off sobbing. She was the widow whose little boy had died of +<i>tetanus</i> a few years before. The ladies all knew it and were visibly +affected.</p> + +<p>“Beg your pardon, dear woman,” said Schwarmer fussing with his pocket +handkerchief. “Beg your pardon, one and all, dear ladies, I meant no +harm—no insult to your sex—most assuredly not. I’m all sympathy for any +one in a delicate condition and exceedingly sorry for any loss they may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +sustain and would not do or say anything willingly to aggravate the one or +the other. I trust you know I would not. You know also that accidents of +that kind <i>do</i> happen very frequently, and without any fright from +pyrotechnics. The only damage that can be truly chargeable to the rocket, +was very slight indeed, very—only a matter of a few bundles of straw and +an old tumble down shed. It made quite a blaze of course, you know it +would ladies, and the excitement may have been the one straw too much for +the mother delicately situated but there is no real proof of it—that is, +no absolute proof you understand ladies. I mean to say that something else +might have happened that would have led to the same disaster—something +quite trifling, such as a husband coming in late and slamming the door. To +speak bluntly we have all heard of such things bringing on premature +difficulties. Truly we have, have we not, my dear ladies?”</p> + +<p>“I see, I see, silence gives consent,” continued Mr. Schwarmer quite +jauntily, “and I know you have forgiven me any little hand I may have had +in the matter—which was very slight indeed, I assure you. The +pyrotechnics referred to were under the auspices of a much greater than +I—that is pyrotechnically considered. No less a person than the young son +of a billionaire friend of mine who has a great taste for pyrotechnics. +The piece which caused the premature loss referred to was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> designed by +him. It was very original and powerful—most assuredly it was—almost too +powerful for inland display. It would have been truly gorgeous out at sea +or off Coney Island or Manhattan Beach. He’s a great genius, the young +fellow is, and an aspiring one and needs a great deal of room to display +his talents, as all geniuses of any size, invariably do. When he was +abroad he was royally entertained by the greatest of living Pyrotechnists, +King Pang, whose father was knighted by the queen for doing something +splendid. I have forgotten just what it was. By the way, he made a very +good pun out of the little accident he had here, after he got back to the +city. He said that his ‘Pet Rocket rocked the cradle prematurely’—or +attempted to rock it, or something of the kind. I can’t quite remember +which; but really it was very good and characteristic also. He always +spoke of his creations as though they were live creatures and really they +are very lively—very lively indeed, I assure you, ladies.”</p> + +<p>“They are fiends in disguise,” exclaimed Ruth rising suddenly and lifting +the rim of her hat so he might recognize her without difficulty. She had +managed to hide herself from his observation, she hardly knew why. She had +a mixed sort of a feeling that she would like to see him let himself +entirely out and that he would be more likely to do so if he did not know +she were there. She meant to have her say. She had come prepared for it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +but she would not say a word until her whole soul was in it and she could +hold back no longer. She had brought the spent rocket that had come so +near killing or injuring Ralph’s mother. She held it up so everybody could +see it plainly.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she went on with righteous indignation. “They are fiends in +disguise. Here is one of them, with its pretty red, white and blue +wrapping torn off. Look at it one and all. It’s only a rough stick and a +lump of lead. It looks dull and harmless now but backed by powder and +dynamite it can do terrible execution. Look at it Mr. Schwarmer. It was +sent over from the hill on last Fourth and came within a hair breadth of +hitting a lady’s shoulder! If it had, it would have laid her arm open to +the bone, for it dashed down the whole length of it and buried itself in +the ground. What kind of a pun would your City Pyro King have made of +that? What does he care for the homes made desolate, the youths that are +slain and mutilated, this son of a millionaire, so that he adds more +millions to his possessions? What does he care for such misery as I have +suffered? Every year for seven years I had to be taken from my home and +sent to Canada in order to escape our Independence day horror. Every year +since the terrible accident to my little brother. You all know about that. +I was only eleven years old then. I did not fully understand what the +English officers meant when they said ‘Very sensitive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> to foreign foes +Americans are, and yet they arm the home foes and ignorant boys with +enough powder and dynamite to kill and wound thousands every year.’ ‘A +very free country that whose people have to fly to Europe or to us for +safety.’ But it dawned on me little by little, year after year. Last year +I saw it all. This year I am here, determined to leave no stone unturned +to do away with the cruel, barberous idiotic celebration of our national +day.</p> + +<p>“Think of it, Mr. Schwarmer! How would you feel to have your little +innocent brother, or child, frightfully scarred, burned or torn to pieces +by fireworks that some careless person had put into his hands? Take it to +your heart and conscience. Remember, we do not assume that you are a bad +man because you distribute fireworks among the children of this town. We +know you don’t think when you give a lot of boys a lot of toy pistols that +they are going to kill or injure each other with them. You are just like a +great many others. You have been brought up to think it right for boys to +celebrate our Independence Day and you don’t stop to think of the new +elements of danger which have been, and are constantly being introduced. +The firecracker and the torpedo were always dangerous nuisances and should +have been done away with long ago for something harmless and more +sensible. Instead of that they have been developed into giants and are now +manufactured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> in enormous quantities—enough to burn up the whole world; +and they do burn up millions of dollars worth of property each year.</p> + +<p>“Think of it! It’s not only the loss of life that is to be considered but +it’s the waste of money. It’s a pity to see it recklessly burned up when +we are needing so many things. We need a public library. All we have now +are a few old ragged books. We need a public park, where the children can +go to fly their kites, look at the gold fishes, listen to the music, smell +of the flowers, laugh, play and sing, and be out of the dust and danger of +the crowded thoroughfare. We need good roads and bridges. There isn’t a +thoroughly good road in town except the speedway, which the corporation +helped you build over beyond the hill. The sewers and water works are +incomplete. You have about all there are at your place and the +towns-people have paid the corporation taxes, although they have been +doubled since your coming, without grumbling. Think of all these things, +Mr. Schwarmer. Investigate this whole matter for yourself and see if you +can’t do something better for us than you have been doing. You have +refused to take pay from us for the destruction of your property. We thank +you but we do not wish you to think that we did not give our whole +strength and influence to the work. What I did was to put it into the head +of my husband (that now is) to help me do something at once, to prevent +the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> horrible burnt sacrifice that would surely take place if your +fireworks were distributed here as usual. I could not rest after hearing +the English boast as I did last year that a shrewd English Pyro-king had +sold millions of dollars worth of fireworks to the American people to burn +up on their ‘<i>awful</i> Independence Day’ as they called it, and that the +demand was so great that he had to send a supply from the London +manufactory. You see how it is, Mr. Schwarmer. I have heard and thought +about these things through days and nights of suffering and exile on +English soil. And now I have to confess that I am the instigator-in-chief +of the destruction of your property. You will be kind enough to reckon +with <i>me</i> if you do with anybody. We bid you good day and a God speed in +the right direction.”</p> + +<p>The ladies withdrew without being waved out.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +<p class="title">THE EFFECT OF RUTH’S SPEECH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Mere</span> words can give but little idea of Ruth’s speech. It was what would be +called in military phrase of the “rapid-firing order.” Her pretty brown +eyes were ablaze with feeling. Every gesture struck home. The Golden Rule +President encouraged her with nods and smiles. Lawyer Rattlinger was +amused and interested. The ladies were effected to tears, while Schwarmer +turned all sorts of colors—red being the predominant one. His face seemed +full to bursting at times; but her final invocation steadied him a little +and after the last lady had disappeared, he gasped out:</p> + +<p>“Well gentlemen, really and truly! What are we to do about a thing of this +kind? I don’t quite understand the ladies. They have such a sort of +vascilating way—most assuredly they have.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but there’s where the love comes in,” said the President. He was +humming a tune and twitching his ample fingers in a lively way as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> though +they might be playing on a harp of a thousand strings. Then he sang out:</p> + +<p>“O! it’s through the <i>women people</i> we shall find the promised rest. The +women, God bless them! They know what the town needs if the rest of us +don’t, Mr. Schwarmer, and they are going for it. You may as well +capitulate—capitulate gracefully and give them a library.”</p> + +<p>“And you, Rattlinger, I would like your view of it, most assuredly I +would—that is, the legal view.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, you are welcome to my point of view both legal and +experimental,” replied Rattlinger. “I should say to begin with that the +uprising is too respectable and tee-total to be ignored. Experimentally I +know that a woman is the deuce for persistence when she once gets after a +thing. I should say that when a whole army of them get on the war-path the +library would have to come. Legally considered, you have not given a +promissory note, but you have given them promissory words. There’s a point +of honor, you see.”</p> + +<p>“Well, really, gentlemen, I have always intended to give a library or +something of that kind, in the end, you know, but I don’t fancy being +forced to do it—prematurely, so to speak; and you can’t blame me for +<i>that</i>, most assuredly you can’t.”</p> + +<p>“No! No! Mr. Schwarmer,” sang the President:</p> + +<p class="poem">“You’re a free untrammeled soul<br /> +An undivided atom within a mighty whole.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>“But you’d better divide up with the ladies, Mr. Schwarmer,” laughed +Rattlinger, “or you will have to enter the field against them; I don’t +believe you want to do that. At least I shouldn’t. I should know that I +would have to beat a retreat in the end and I should rather beat a retreat +in the beginning while I could do it and save my honor; as the famous +French General always did. I would not wait ’til I had a lot of +indictments social or otherwise tacked onto my coat-skirts. As I +understand it they have quite a number of things laid up against you; and +you know the ladies are famous for making things look picturesque.”</p> + +<p>The laugh of the President at this remark was so contagious that Schwarmer +couldn’t help joining in.</p> + +<p>“It’s all over with you, my good man,” said the President, slapping him on +the shoulder as he proceeded to put on his hat.</p> + +<p>“The <i>women people</i> have pleaded guilty—guilty of doing a good deed and +they have won their case according to Lawyer Rattlinger’s opinion. You had +better send the library along at once. A little concession of that sort +makes everything run as smooth as silk.”</p> + +<p>The President and the lawyer went home to tea and Schwarmer returned to +the city on the next train. Nothing was heard from him until September +first. Then he came on in his rushing way with a surveyor, two architects +and half a dozen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> contractors. The news ran through the town like wild +fire that he was really going to begin the long looked for library +building. It was to be on the vacant lot where he was born. The house not +being of a substantial character had been demolished long ago and the lot +itself had been voted a nuisance by the adjacent neighbors; so there were +more reasons than one for rejoicing. The ladies were especially delighted.</p> + +<p>“Behold the result of your maiden speech!” exclaimed Ralph when he came +home with the good news.</p> + +<p>“Newly married speech,” laughed Ruth; but as Ralph went on to tell of the +large preparations which were being made she shook her pretty head and +“hoped Schwarmer would not be so idiotic as to put all his donation into a +splendid building and leave nothing for books. A good plain, commodious +building is what we want. Not a palatial, monumental thing that will make +our homes look like hovels and turn out to be a monument for himself, for +us to keep in order.”</p> + +<p>“Seneca the Sensible,” were Ralph’s next words, “but, you are right, dear +love,” he added, “Schwarmer needs watching. ‘Eternal vigilance’ is the +price when you deal with such a man. The corporation is not obliged to +accept his library unless it is properly furnished and endowed. I’ll speak +to the Golden Rule President about that, at once. Bless your heart for +putting it into my head.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>“Who in the world is Dombey bringing us?” exclaimed Ruth as her dog came +leaping and frisking up the walk. “He acts as though he had secured a great +prize.”</p> + +<p>“Millionaire Schwarmer’s daughter as I live,” exclaimed Ralph! “Isn’t it +comical though. I never knew before that dogs <i>could</i> be obsequious! See +that brute trying to smile.”</p> + +<p>The girl came on slowly and rather timidly up the long walk, while the dog +rushed backward and forward and indulged in all sorts of joyous antics.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me for coming,” she said when she got within speaking distance, +“but the dog would have it so.”</p> + +<p>“Dombey knew you would be welcome,” replied Ruth.</p> + +<p>“He met me at the train and followed me all around to every place I went, +but when I got to this street he took the lead. I went on but he came +after me and cried and took hold of my dress. I guessed what he wanted so +I came a little way with him; but when I turned to go back he whined and +made such a time of it, that I gave up and came home with him.”</p> + +<p>“And now he wants you to come up on the verandah and rest,” laughed Ruth, +looking down into the blue eyes. She thought she had never seen any so +blue and true looking.</p> + +<p>“I will a moment, but I can’t stay. I came up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> with father. I wanted to +see poor Mary who got scared and lost her baby Fourth of July night.”</p> + +<p>“I heard she was better,” said Ruth.</p> + +<p>“Father heard so too, and thought I hadn’t better come, but I would come. +I know she feels bad about her baby and I want to tell her how sorry I am +and how much I blame Mr. Bombs.” The blue eyes filled with tears.</p> + +<p>“Fireworks are dangerous things,” said Ruth. She felt her own eyes getting +misty and she was wondering if Schwarmer’s daughter knew of their action +in regard to the Schwarmer fireworks.</p> + +<p>“Yes, they are dangerous,” said Miss Schwarmer, “and they are horrid—all +that I have ever seen; and I blame father for ever buying such awful +things to give away. I don’t believe he ever will any more. There are so +many pretty things to buy.”</p> + +<p>“Bless your heart,” said Ruth. “I’m sure he never will if you ask him not +to.”</p> + +<p>“I <i>have</i> asked him not to and I’ve blamed him. He is going to let me buy +things after this, for the children here.”</p> + +<p>“O that will be lovely,” exclaimed Ruth—“then we shall see you often +shall we not?”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could stay here always,” said Miss Schwarmer. “I don’t like to +travel but we’re all going over to London with Mr. Bombs. I don’t like +him, though he <i>is</i> honest with me. I blame him for not being honest with +others. Father says<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> he was educated to amuse and mystify the people. +Isn’t it horrid to be mystified?”</p> + +<p>Ruth assured her it was and then she left with Dombey at her heels.</p> + +<p>“Dombey knows,” said Ruth; “and it’s no wonder. She is so good and +honest.”</p> + +<p>“The wonder is that Mr. Schwarmer should have such a child,” said Ralph, +“or Mrs. Schwarmer either from all we hear about her. What a pity that she +should be dragged around the world against her will; but she ‘blames’ them +and no doubt but they need her blame.”</p> + +<p>“And Mr. Bombs, the man that’s been educated to amuse and mystify people. +He needs her blame without the shadow of a doubt; and he will end by +falling desperately in love with her,” said Ruth. “It came over me like a +flash, when she was speaking of him.”</p> + +<p>“Then it must be so,” laughed Ralph, “for you have a sample on hand. I +hope she will marry him and put him to beneficent uses.”</p> + +<p>When Ralph came home to tea he brought another item of news. Some kind of +a building was going to be constructed on Schwarmer Hill; and no one as +yet had been able to find out what it was to be.</p> + +<p>“A Bombs’ mystification, perhaps,” sighed Ruth.</p> + +<p>The library building went on very rapidly and by the time the cold weather +set in, it was enclosed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> and ready for inside work. It gave evidence of +being a plain, substantial, common sense structure, with nothing showy or +monumental about it. Whether it was due to Ruth’s original suggestions, +Ralph’s timely action, Lawyer Rattlinger’s shrewdness or President +Hartling’s practical ability, was not known. The one thing that <i>was</i> +known, however, and made sure of by every taxpayer in town was that it +would not be saddled onto them for support. That it was to be an +absolutely free gift. That there would be a liberal sum for books and a +sufficient sum set aside to keep it in good running order.</p> + +<p>The knowledge concerning the building on Schwarmer Hill was not so clear. +In fact it was “extremely hazy,” as Lawyer Rattlinger expressed it. And +yet there was no seeming of secrecy about the matter. The boss-workman as +well as the architect and builders were remarkably unanimous in saying +when questioned, that it was to be a sort of amphitheatre for sports and +games of various kinds.</p> + +<p>“That settles it, or rather unsettles it,” said the President, “for there +are various kinds—a large number of them. They are very various and very +brutal many of them. Yes, a great many of them all the way down from the +Indian LaCrosse game and Fillipino Hurdle races to Jiu-Jitsu—the +treacherous Japanese game of ankle and neck-breaking. Even the college +sports must be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> pursued with the old time barbaric violence and virulence. +If we send a son to college in these days to cultivate his mental powers, +we may expect he will be swept into the rage for physical culture, and +wind up by losing an eye or two fingers at the least.”</p> + +<p>This was the President’s point of view very decidedly after having had a +friend who cultivated his physical powers while in college to that extent; +but he was ready to confess that he had not always held such a view. He +recalled with regret a time when he had encouraged brutal games by +inviting a party of tired young men and women to witness a football game.</p> + +<p>“What an idiocy,” he exclaimed, “when there were so many perfectly +harmless amusements which I could have taken them to; but I didn’t think +about it. I wanted to take them where they wanted to go, instead of +wanting to take them where they ought to go and managing to make it +pleasant for them.”</p> + +<p>“And so there was a Providence in your friend’s hurt after all, you see,” +said the minister.</p> + +<p>“No, I don’t see it,” replied the President, “else I should have to accuse +Providence of hitting the wrong man. I ought to have been the one to have +had my eye plucked out or my hand plucked off. For I had been taught the +good old Quaker rule, to avoid all games that are gotten up by men, for +the purpose of beating each other; I’m going to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> stand by that rule after +this, and I hope Schwarmer can be induced to draw the lines at the +dangerous games.”</p> + +<p>Ruth hoped so too, but her solicitude was not to be put aside. Every week +she would have Ralph go with her to The Hill presumably for a walk, but in +reality to see what the huge thing looked like. She feared it was going to +be something objectionable and unhelpable.</p> + +<p>“It doesn’t matter so much, does it dear, if he keeps it to himself—that +is if it doesn’t slop over onto us?”</p> + +<p>“Yes it does matter, Ralph—that is if it turns out to be an arena for +pyrotechnics and that horrible Bombs is in it. If he is, it will be an +advertisement for the blinding and demoralization of every youth within +sight of it. Powder and dynamite will be the fashion and our Fourth of +July horror will rage again. O Ralph! Ralph!”</p> + +<p>“Here am I, dear! Trust! trust! We will be on the watch-tower. If Mr. +Bombs comes we will see what we can do with him. There’s always something +to be done if we can only keep a level head. You must not get too much +excited over it, dear, you know the reason why. You remember the +gardener’s wife, poor soul. Let’s stop and see her on our way down.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Ralph,” replied Ruth eagerly. “Perhaps she will know if Miss +Schwarmer is coming up this Fourth. If there is anybody in the world who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +can influence that perverse Mr. Bombs rightly I believe it is she.”</p> + +<p>Mary Langley, the gardener’s wife, had never recovered from the hurt and +fright caused by the explosion of Mr. Bombs’ rocket. Hers was one of those +double hurts for which <i>materia medicae</i> has no remedy. She recovered +sufficiently to be able to attend to her household duties and to the wants +of her two little children. Miss Schwarmer’s well filled purse had helped +her thus far; but it could not tide her over the invalid line. Dreams of +fiery serpents and the lost baby kept her from refreshing sleep night +after night. Her husband ridiculed her in vain for her so-called woman’s +weakness. Her hurt was too deep for money or ridicule to mend. She grew +thinner and thinner, day after day, and ghostly white until it was rumored +about town that she was going into a decline.</p> + +<p>The Norwoods were ill prepared, however, for the frail spiritual looking +creature who met them at the door.</p> + +<p>“Beg pardon,” said Ruth, “perhaps you are not well enough to receive us. I +have heard about you and have been wanting to come and see you ever since; +but I thought you had so many friends—and better ones—at least those who +could do more for you. You are well acquainted with the Schwarmers, of +course. Miss Schwarmer is lovely and she spoke to me so kindly about +you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>“Yes,” replied Mrs. Langley, “Miss Adelaide is very, very kind and as good +and honest as she can be and she did help me all she could, bless her +heart, in deed and word; but she had to go away and it seemed as though +nobody else knew just how I felt, and she so young too—the others made +fun of me.”</p> + +<p>Tears came into the hollow eyes as she stopped speaking.</p> + +<p>“Made fun of you?” questioned Ruth, looking at Ralph wonderingly.</p> + +<p>“O! the brutes!” he exclaimed, angrily. He could not trust himself to say +more. He wanted to ask who the brutes were and why her husband did not +resent such cruel insult?</p> + +<p>“I suppose I <i>was</i> foolish,” she said apologetically. “Even my husband +can’t quite understand why I was so frightened—frightened out of my wits, +he says; nor why I can’t get over it. Why I want to go away from this +place. He hired to Mr. Schwarmer for three years and he can’t go and it +wouldn’t do to quarrel with him. Poor James! He works hard all day and is +so tired at night; and night is the time I feel the terror coming on!”</p> + +<p>Ruth gave a little sob.</p> + +<p>“I can understand you, dear Mrs. Langley. It’s the horrible fireworks and +their promoters you are afraid of, and you are afraid they will come +again. I used to feel that way until we went to work to get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> rid of them; +but you are helpless here on the Schwarmer grounds. Then there’s the new +building. Have you any idea what use that will be put to?”</p> + +<p>“My husband talks of beautiful horses and races and fairs and things of +that kind, but I have my fears. I know they won’t let Fourth of July pass +without doing something dreadful; but I shan’t be here then.”</p> + +<p>Ruth knew that she meant that she expected to die before that time, but +she would not take it so.</p> + +<p>“Indeed you must not stay here. You must come over and stay with us. We +are not going to have any of those horrible things. You must come, you and +the children, too; if you do not come of your own accord, we will come and +take you away,” laughed Ruth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langley promised to come and Ruth and Ralph went home far better +pleased than they would have been if they had been returning bridal calls +in the ordinary stereotyped fashion.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +<p class="title">THE QUERY. RUTH’S DOG DOMBEY BRINGS HER A NOTE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">The</span> first day of May Mr. Schwarmer came and brought a carload of workmen. +There had been a very large number from the beginning. The Library +building was completed and the building on the hill had been going on very +rapidly, particularly through the months of March and April, but the pace +was nothing to what it was after Mr. Schwarmer’s advent. The large lot on +which the main building stood was enclosed by a high wall with gates, +elevated seats and awning posts. The building itself was decorated, +winged, painted, balconied and improved in wonderful ways. Band stands and +observation towers arose as if by magic.</p> + +<p>Mr. Schwarmer was a man who liked to rush things, and he was here and +there and everywhere, pushing the work. When questioned as to its uses he +laughed and said:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>“That is a query even to myself. Come to think of it, I guess I’ll name it +‘The Query.’ It would be a good name for it and might be spelled with one +e or two. A very good one truly. A capital one, since its gates are to be +open to all the queer and popular things—that is the most popular, +amusing, instructive and queer; and as there is always a question as to +which is the most truly popular <i>et cetera</i>. The people of Killsbury and +the county can hold their fairs here if they wish, and bring their +showiest bed quilts and biggest pumpkins or things of that kind, most +assuredly they can.”</p> + +<p>A week after Mr. Schwarmer’s arrival Mrs. Schwarmer and Adelaide came, +bringing with them the Librarian and the books. The work of putting the +Library in order was to be rushed also, for it was to be formally opened +and handed over to the town on the Fourth of July, with appropriate +ceremonies.</p> + +<p>On the day of their arrival Dombey did not make his appearance at +dinner—a function which he was in the habit of observing as punctually as +the other members of the family.</p> + +<p>“Where in the world is Dombey!” exclaimed Ruth. “You don’t suppose he has +gone to the train to meet Adelaide Schwarmer again? Mrs. Langley told me +she was expected today.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely,” laughed Ralph. “Dogs get habits as well as the rest of us. +See, there he comes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> running like Jehu! He hasn’t captured her this time; +but he acts as though chain lightning had struck him. Something is up you +may be sure.”</p> + +<p>And so there was. Dombey came rushing up to Ruth with a note tied to his +collar. It was from Adelaide Schwarmer, inviting her to meet them at the +Library the next morning. They (she and her mother) wanted to consult her +about some of the arrangements. “Father,” she said, “was very busy and had +given it all into their hands to manage.”</p> + +<p>“It’s well he has,” said Ralph angrily. “You wouldn’t have my consent to +go, if he were going to be there.”</p> + +<p>“Oh I don’t think he is really a bad man, Ralph. Only blind with regard to +the characters of those about him, just as he is custom-blind in regard to +other things. Anyway I forgive him for his daughter’s sake.”</p> + +<p>“Better wait until you see what performances he introduces on Schwarmer +Hill.”</p> + +<p>“As long as Miss Schwarmer is there I feel as though the Hill has a +guardian angel—or a recording angel at least, Ralph.”</p> + +<p>“Be careful though. Don’t let them harness you into doing any hard work at +the library. You know rich women are apt to do that sort of thing and you +have to be extra careful of your health just now. Your mother would never +forgive me if I should let you overdo while she is away.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>“Don’t be foolish, Ralph. You know how it has always been with papa and +mamma. They were over-solicitous. I was never so strong and healthy in my +life as I am now. I feel as though I could work, and should be glad to in +such a cause. Only think of it! The gift of books and books and books and +books instead of firecrackers and cartridges and toy pistols! An +invitation to come and help arrange them instead of an order to pack up +and leave the country to get rid of the horrible Fourth! Then the +exercises in the Library instead of the carnival of death and destruction. +Can you realize it, Ralph? Do you really take it all in?”</p> + +<p>She seized hold of his arms and gave him a vigorous shaking up.</p> + +<p>“You see Dombey got here first; but how well you are looking,” exclaimed +Adelaide, when Ruth entered the library. “How plump and fair you have +grown since I was here! Let me kiss you.”</p> + +<p>A pink glow came to Ruth’s cheek which made her pretty face look still +prettier, and had its effect on Adelaide also. She added shyly: “Are you +tired? Did you walk? I ought to have come for you in my phaeton.”</p> + +<p>“My husband brought me,” replied Ruth, recovering herself in time to meet +the formal salutation and the cold discriminating glance of Mrs. +Schwarmer, with wifely dignity.</p> + +<p>“I trust your father and mother are usually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> well. Perhaps I ought to have +sent for them to assist me in this matter; but Adelaide told me you were +very enthusiastic about the library and knew everything about books. +There’s an alcove set aside for the very, very choice ones—books that no +one should be allowed to handle, who is ignorant of their value, so the +Librarian says; but he has so much to do, we are going to help him all we +can.”</p> + +<p>“Papa and mamma are in Chicago with an uncle who is very ill—not expected +to live day after day.”</p> + +<p>“How sad,” said Mrs. Schwarmer, in the even tone which made it difficult +to tell whether she meant the uncle’s sickness or the father’s and +mother’s absence from home. “Mr. Bombs is in Chicago, too. He went there +to meet Mr. Pang, the celebrated Pyrotechnic King. Chicago is to celebrate +its centennial before long, and Mr. Pang is to do wonders there. A <i>fac +simile</i> of old Fort Dearborn will be built on purpose for him to burn +down, and he will give a realistic representation of the “Great Chicago +Fire” by covering the roofs of all the highest and largest buildings in +the city with Roman lights, which are to be lighted all at once and burn +for hours and hours, and make it appear as though the city were really +being burned up again. No doubt it will be splendid. Did Mr. Bombs say +anything about it in the letter you got this morning, Adelaide? I was too +busy to read it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>“He didn’t say he’d seen Pang himself, but the Pang Co. are making great +preparations for the burning,” said Adelaide, “and I think it’s horrid. +It’s bad enough to have a city half burned up by accident; but to pay +thousands of dollars to have it burned up in play is silly and sinful and +I’m going to tell Bombs so when he comes back.”</p> + +<p>“Hush, Adelaide,” said Mrs. Schwarmer, authoritatively. “You are too young +to express such strong opinions.”</p> + +<p>“My poor uncle lost his all in that terrible fire, his wife and children +even. It broke him down utterly. He has never seen a well day since,” said +Ruth. “To him even the shadow of such an experience would be dreadful.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed! what a pity!” said Mrs. Schwarmer in the same even tone that left +one in doubt as to where her pity came in, as she went into an adjoining +room to have another consultation with the Librarian, after which she +rustled out to her carriage and drove swiftly away.</p> + +<p>“I am going to take you home in my phaeton when you are ready to go,” said +Adelaide; “but you must see the rare books first.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly,” replied Ruth, “and I would like to do something to help you, +and perhaps I can.”</p> + +<p>“It would help me to have you here, to see you and talk with you,” replied +Adelaide; “but you must not climb or reach or handle the heavy books. It +isn’t necessary. I can climb like a cat, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> know some nice boys who +would handle them as carefully as you or I or mamma. It’s all moonshine, +what the Librarian says about them. They will have to be handled by +anybody who chooses, if they are going to be of any use to the town.”</p> + +<p>“Ralph would be delighted to help—help climb,” laughed Ruth, “I know he +would. Then how about the catalogues? I can write fairly well—so my +husband says?”</p> + +<p>“Oh I’m so glad, Mrs. Ruth. Pardon, let me call you Ruth. It’s such a +pretty name. I write a horrid hand. Besides, I want your company. Mamma is +going to be awfully busy up to the house, and Mr. Bombs is coming back in +a few days. May I drive around for you every morning at ten o’clock?”</p> + +<p>“Yes indeed you may,” replied Ruth. “I shall be delighted to come and be +with you and help you and talk with you, I’m sure I shall. We think alike +about so many things—about monstrous celebrations and dangerous fireworks +and the burning up of money, when so much is needed to make the poor +comfortable, and improve the world. As though there were not sad accidents +enough in the world without going to work and making accidents. Only think +of the poor people of Martinique! Only just recovered from the catastrophe +of Mont Pelee when a hurricane comes and sweeps away their homes again! I +wonder the horrible Fire-kings don’t go over there and try to amuse the +people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> with a Mont Pelee eruption! This making sport out of such terrible +happenings seems to be the rage just now.”</p> + +<p>“King Pang <i>has</i> invented a Mont Pelee firecracker,” said Adelaide; “and a +huge noise-maker it is—fifteen feet long and explodes fifty times! Do you +know we visited him when we were in London and I didn’t like him at all, +though he is awful rich and entertained us splendidly. He invents fiery +shows and goes all over the world to pile up money out of them, although +he is worth millions already.”</p> + +<p>“Please tell me about him,” exclaimed Ruth eagerly. “I wonder if he is the +one that I heard so much boasting about in Canada. The one that wooled the +Americans into buying their ‘<i>Independence Day annihilators</i>’ of him they +said. Those horrible cannon crackers, and things of that sort which kill +and maim so many every year—dangerous things that never ought to be +manufactured or sold in any country under the heavens. He seems like an +arch-fiend to me.”</p> + +<p>“He is as proud as Lucifer anyway,” replied Adelaide. “The whole family +are as proud as they can be. They have <i>a coat of arms</i> and everything as +magnificent as the royal family.”</p> + +<p>“A Coat of Arms! What has he done to deserve a Coat of Arms?” asked Ruth.</p> + +<p>“O! horrible things!—or his grandfathers have. One of them invented a war +explosive for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> British navy and another gave them a lot of powder to +carry on the awful Crimean war! The Government made a Knight of him to pay +him for his powder; and they are dreadfully proud of it. They’ve got it +all written down on their Coat,” laughed Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“They had better write down the number of human beings their fiendish +inventions and gifts have killed,” said Ruth indignantly.</p> + +<p>“O how glad I am to hear you say that. I told Mr. Bombs so in those very +words,” exclaimed Adelaide with her eyes brim full of honest glow. “And +mamma said I was too young to have an opinion about such matters,” she +added in a grieved tone.</p> + +<p>“I am only nineteen,” remarked Ruth, “but I have had an experience, and +that amounts to more than years, sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know Mr. Bombs is only twenty-one. It seems so strange that he +should take it into his head to be a Pyrotechnist. But his mother died +when he was young and I suspect his father was too busy making his +millions to think about his training. He told me once that his nurse used +to take him to the beach every evening almost, to see the fireworks. So +you see he had them burned into him almost.”</p> + +<p>“Probably the nurse had a fondness for that sort of barbarism,” replied +Ruth. “O how wrong it is for parents to be so careless of their children!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +To trust them as they do, to the ignorant, the foolish and the +wicked—they know not whom—often to anybody who is willing to wear a +nurse’s cap and apron.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sure that’s the way it was with Mr. Bombs. His head is full of +fireworks. He went over to London on purpose to see King Pang and get hold +of the secrets of the trade; but I think he found him rather foxy,” +laughed Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“Of course,” said Ruth. “The English Pyro-king does not relish having a +rival in the American market.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +<p class="title">MR. BOMBS’ DISGUST WITH CHICAGO AND THE PYRO-KING’S PLANS.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Mr. Bombs</span> came on from Chicago the evening after the first meeting of Ruth +and Adelaide in the Library, greatly to the surprise of the Schwarmers, +especially to Adelaide; but when she questioned him about it, he turned +away without giving a reasonable excuse and went in search of her father.</p> + +<p>“What! torn yourself away from Chicago so soon,” exclaimed Schwarmer—“the +mighty central city—the huge centre of finance, rush and pluck!”</p> + +<p>“Faugh!” replied Bombs, turning green. “The huge centre of soot, dirt and +smoke! The mighty central inferno, with the Pang emissaries plotting to +reburn it, and measuring it to see how much more smoke and flame it will +contain.”</p> + +<p>“Hold on, Fons,” laughed Schwarmer, “you are young yet and you are not in +it. With the American millionaire <i>in it</i> and the foreign millionaire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> out +of it, Chicago might have its attractions, even for you—that is, in a +business way, most assuredly it might. You might have to wade through mud +or dust ankle deep to get at the heart of Finance—that mighty man-made +canon in La Salle St.; but hark, Fons, let me tell you that when you are +really and truly up and dressed for business, that canon will seem almost +as glorious to you as the very finest of the God-made ones. Most assuredly +it will. It’s the brainy business man’s paradise. Enough of the ‘filthy +lucre’ is handled there every day to run a kingdom.”</p> + +<p>“More’s the pity,” retorted Bombs. “Why can’t they use a little of the +stuff to abate the smoke and mud nuisance and fill up the ‘bad lands’ that +girdle it like a slimy serpent?”</p> + +<p>“Because the very size of the business stands in the way, Fons. From every +street corner you noticed about a dozen chimneys spouting clouds of black +smoke. At least I did when I was there; but I knew it meant business and a +great deal of it, and that it would not be interfered with. Rest assured +it wouldn’t. Then there are the Stock Yards. They are not beautiful but +they are mighty. A thousand acres of slaughter-pens mean meat for the +hungry millions. They are mighty interesting looked at in that way, most +assuredly they are.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t give the whole thing but one look,” sniffed Bombs.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>“No, of course you didn’t,” laughed Schwarmer. “You were on the wrong +scent, no doubt. After the beautiful, so to speak. Well, I reckon nobody +ever accused Chicago of being beautiful, really and truly beautiful; but +even the leopard has its spots, and there are some spots around and about +the sides and tail end of the city that are just beautiful enough.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it <i>is</i> beautiful along the margin of the lake, where the city is +not—or the great bulk of it—but they are making huge preparations to +spoil that. When its Centennial comes they will turn its liquid beauty +into a bed of hissing, fiery serpents a mile long!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and Pang’s bill is to be a mile long, rest assured it is,” laughed +Schwarmer. “He’s sharp enough for them. He isn’t there for fun or in +search of the beautiful. He’s there for business and he’s got it, Johnny +Bull fashion, by the horns—on the lake front and on the house-tops, most +assuredly he has. No, Fons, business isn’t a beauty of itself, you know, +or will know when you get into the whirl of it; and Chicago is the wildest +kind of a whirlpool for business.”</p> + +<p>“But I’m not there by a long shot,” said Bombs, with a sigh of relief, +“and Pang is not there, at least I couldn’t find him.”</p> + +<p>“But you’ve found us and we are glad to see you, most assuredly we are; +and really there isn’t much time to spare if you are going to get your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +new piece in tip-top order. It won’t do to have any failure this time, +most assuredly it won’t.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t do much until the Pyro-men come; but I’m glad to be here again +and out of that infernal business hole,” said Bombs, frankly. “I found +Pang’s pyro-men so immersed, so perfectly pickled in the big scheme of +bombarding Fort Dearborn, reburning the city and burning Mr. Flamingdon +(or whatever his name is) that I couldn’t find out about the new +colors—the scientific things of the trade. It’s all trade and no science +with them now. They intend to cover everything in their line. They are +scheming to get hold of ‘The Chicago Amusement Association,’ I suspect.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that, Fons?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t describe it full length,” laughed Bombs, “but one section of it is +directing attention to the small boys’ amusement on the Fourth of July. +Conducted by himself they have discovered that it is not only dangerous +but altogether insane, so they are seriously at work trying to construct a +sane Fourth, which is to wind up with fireworks of such a splendid order +as to indemnify the small boy for not being allowed to have a hand in +letting them off. Of course this is where Pang will plot to come in with a +ten or twenty thousand dollar piece.”</p> + +<p>“Truly, this Fourth of July reform business is growing to be pretty wide, +to reach as far as Chicago. They’ve got a new name tacked onto it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> though. +‘<i>Sane Fourth!</i>’ Pretty good. You know I told you the other day you hadn’t +better go into Fourth of July trimmings too deep—most assuredly I did, +Fons.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t intend to, Mr. Schwarmer. Historical pieces are my ambition; but +that reminds me, I want to ask you something.”</p> + +<p>“Out with it, my lad, you can’t ask me anything I wouldn’t be happy to +answer, most assuredly you can’t.”</p> + +<p>“It’s about Adelaide,” said Bombs, in an assured tone. “I know you and +father have talked of uniting your families. Of course she is young yet +and I am not very aged; but I am old enough to entertain the idea; and +what I want to ask of you is permission to talk to her about it. My father +has written me that I am to go abroad for an extended trip—that is, after +I have got through here and witnessed the reburning of Chicago. When I +return I shall be quite a mature man and she will be a charming young +lady, no doubt. You see what would be likely to happen; but I do not feel +like going away without sounding the depths—getting a sort of a +free-holder’s lease—lest another fellow should come along and secure the +prize. I think it well to look out for such matters ahead of time.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Fons. I would like nothing better than to unite our +families—consolidate them, so to speak. I believe in consolidations of +that kind, I assure you I do, with my whole heart; but you’ll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> have to do +your own proposing. I’m a true Yankee on that head. I should never get +Anglicised on that point if I should sail over to England every month. I +assure you I shouldn’t. You will have to do the straight thing. You +needn’t try to win her in a round-about way through me or her mamma. She’s +always had her head pretty much, and perhaps that’s what makes her rather +heady. She is honest, though, and has very strong notions of the right and +the wrong of things. She often takes me to task for <i>not</i> squaring my +business concerns by the ‘Golden Rule.’ Probably she would do the same +with her husband. Eh! Fons?”</p> + +<p>“I understand,” replied Fons. “She’s at the formative period now. She will +have left off a great many of her notions in two or four years’ time. +Besides, I am not afraid of them even as they are.”</p> + +<p>“Proceed then, young man. Push ahead with the sounding. You have my hearty +permission, most assuredly you have. You seem like an only son already; +and you have my best wishes for your success with the plummet-line, so to +speak. No use of wasting any great amount of lead on it, though, most +assuredly not. You will be able to ascertain the exact degree of +perpendicularity in Addie’s case without an enormous waste of time or +money. She is straight up and down as a rule, most decidedly so. There’s +nothing crooked about her or slantendicular, as there often is about the +opposite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> sex—rest assured there is not. Unlike the vast majority of +fathers I have kept up an intimate acquaintance with my daughter ever +since she was born, and I can give you my hand or oath on that point, most +assuredly I can. I’ve nothing more to say except that I shall keep an eye +on the other fellows while you are away, and that she’s heart free to +date. She’s only a grown up child, so to speak—all ready to bloom but not +fully bloomed out, rest assured she is not.”</p> + +<p>With such characteristic assurance, Mr. Bombs left his prospective +father-in-law to seek Adelaide. He was anxious to make his first +experiment with the plummet-line as Mr. Schwarmer had not altogether +inaptly called it. It pleased him to fancy that he had already scored a +success in the matrimonial line, but whether it was Mr. Schwarmer’s hearty +permission to talk freely to his daughter, or the plummet-line +illustration that tickled his fancy the most, he could hardly have told. +He may have been pleased to think that his own expression as to “sounding +the depths,” had been its inspiration, for he was at the age when he was +beginning to use idiomatic language and large-sized words and would be apt +to note their effectiveness. As to Schwarmer, he may have had a youthful +experience with plummet-lines even though it may have gone no farther than +the sounding of a goose-pond.</p> + +<p>When he found her she was coming up the hill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> from Mrs. Langley’s. She +appeared on its summit at the moment when the sun was plunging down behind +it like a ball of fire. It was rather a remarkable coincidence and it +struck him as such, that when she got to the place where Mrs. Langley had +first appeared on the night of her accident, she stopped, threw her head +upward and clasped her hands around her body just as the poor scared woman +had done. He understood the pantomime perfectly and it pleased him, +although it recalled one of his most signal failures—that is from a +professional point of view. From the artistic point it had been considered +quite a success—“quite madonna like,” Miss Drawling had said, and +although he would not have given a “fip” for her opinion on any other +subject, he thought she had said one very good thing. His regret for the +accident had never been heart deep. He inclined to the brute belief that +accidents as a rule added to the human interest in life—at least the kind +of accidents that call forth the tenderest kind of sympathy.</p> + +<p>“You, have been posing,” he said as he went forward to meet her. “Really +you did it well. You see I was watching for you—to tell you something.”</p> + +<p>“I have been down to see poor Mary. She hasn’t got well of her fright yet. +What a dreadful thing it was!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but you blamed me for it at the time, roundly. I hope you are not +going to blame me over again,” said Bombs lightly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>“There’s no use. The blame will last.”</p> + +<p>“You will forgive me before I go away.”</p> + +<p>“How do you know, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“O Pythagoras in Petticoats! You are here again! I am undone!” laughed +Bombs.</p> + +<p>“Don’t call me that or I shall run away before you tell me <i>your +something</i>.”</p> + +<p>“That would be a dense calamity.”</p> + +<p>“Why dense, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“Because I could never get through the tangle if you were not here to ask +leading questions, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“I am here and I am listening. But if you don’t begin to tell me at once I +am going.”</p> + +<p>“Here it is, then, without exasperating prelude. I am going away +immediately after the Fourth to be gone from one to four years—four +probably. Only think of that immense stretch of time! Are you glad or sad +to hear the astounding revelation?”</p> + +<p>“Before I answer I want to ask where you are going and exactly why?”</p> + +<p>“To Germany, Austria and China. To schools of Pyrotechny everywhere—to +study up the art and find out the secrets of the craft.”</p> + +<p>“In order to beat King Pang at his trade and become an American +Pyrotechnic King?”</p> + +<p>“Undoubtedly! my father is worth his million, he would not let me take a +back seat in any profession.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>“I am sorry then, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“For whom or what, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“For you, and that you are going on such a quest.”</p> + +<p>“Are you not the least bit sorry on your own account. Will you not be a +trifle lonesome without me to blame, Miss Adelaide?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, Mr. Bombs, in a way.”</p> + +<p>“In what way, Miss Adelaide?”</p> + +<p>“Just as your sister or mother would be, I fancy.”</p> + +<p>“Sisterly! Motherly!” laughed Bombs. “That’s infinitely correct, just now, +but in two or four years from now wifely will be the proper word, and you +will feel very different.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sure four years or a thousand will not make any difference in my +feelings about—”</p> + +<p>“About what or who?” insisted Bombs.</p> + +<p>“About you,” she added promptly.</p> + +<p>He was looking at her with a brazen sort of fixedness that would have made +almost any mature woman blush. He wanted to make her blush and he expected +she would, but he was disappointed. She looked straight at him and was as +placid as the traditional moonbeam.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +<p class="title">SCHWARMER DOES A LITTLE HUSTLING ON ADELAIDE’S ACCOUNT—A FOURTH OF JULY BUGLE.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Three</span> skilled Pyrotechnics came down from the city a week before the +Fourth to set up Mr. Bombs’ Pyro-spectacle, The Siege of Yorktown. Mr. +Bombs himself was very busy superintending the work, which was conducted +with all possible secrecy. He did not absolutely refuse to answer +Adelaide’s questions; but he called her Pythagoras in Petticoats quite +frequently and she knew that whenever the epithet came in, it was to stand +in the place of an explanation; but she soon found out enough about it to +know she wasn’t going to like it and she told him so frankly. She could +not do otherwise. The frankness that her father claimed to have she +possessed in a full degree. Moreover, she had a desire for correct +knowledge which he did not possess.</p> + +<p>She re-read the Siege of Yorktown and the life of Washington during those +days and she could talk intelligently about both.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>“It’s sad enough to think, Mr. Bombs, that Yorktown <i>was</i> besieged and so +many lives lost and so much property destroyed, without having it done +over and over and over again.”</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid you don’t love your country and the Father of it as well as +you should, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I do, Mr. Bombs. I love my country and I love Washington and I +wonder what he would say, were he to come back after all these years, and +see us besieging an imaginary Yorktown, and burning up money which he and +his men had almost perished for the want of. You haven’t represented the +misery and poverty of it, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss Adelaide, nor the money chests of Rochambeau and Laurens,” +laughed Bombs.</p> + +<p>“You represent only what you consider the glory of it, Mr. Bombs. +Washington would never admit that there was any glory in war. He said it +was ‘a plague that should be banished from the earth.’ What would he say +if he should take a look at the earth as it is now and see the millions +and millions spent to glorify war, be-star it and write it on God’s sky in +lines of fire! And, worse still, see thousands of innocent youths +sacrificed yearly, not to the patriotic sentiment, but to the patriotic +fury. There was little Laurens Cornwallis’ terrible accident! Have you any +idea how it could have happened, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have an idea, Miss Adelaide—at least an idea of how it might have +occurred, but ideas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> are not worth much without proofs. They are apt to be +rather prejudicial, especially with young ladies of your age. Perhaps I +will tell you my idea sometime.”</p> + +<p>“Before you go away, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“No, surely not. You will not be much older then,” laughed Bombs. “When I +come back from Europe you will be quite a young lady. The explosion of an +idea or of fireworks will not be apt to shock you then.”</p> + +<p>“I shall always be shocked when I think of that beautiful boy’s death, Mr. +Bombs. It’s a dreadful mystery!”</p> + +<p>“Was his name Laurens or Lawrence.” asked Bombs, laconically.</p> + +<p>“Laurens. It was his mother’s maiden name. Her ancestors were French.”</p> + +<p>“Laurens Cornwallis! Indeed! Two celebrated names. English and French +conjoined. Do they claim to be descendants of the French financier and of +the English fighter?” asked Bombs.</p> + +<p>“I have never heard so. Wouldn’t it be lovely though? Foe meeting foe in +true love and friendliness through their children. Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis +are a very devoted couple.”</p> + +<p>“My point of view was simply consolatory. Providence permitting, it might +not be well to have too many Cornwallis’s on American soil,” said Bombs.</p> + +<p>“We have room enough and to spare. I read<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> a letter yesterday from +Washington to Lafayette. He said it’s a strange thing that there should +not be room enough in the world for men to live without cutting each +other’s throats.”</p> + +<p>“But he laid siege to Yorktown all the same, Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but after it was all over and he had grown older and wiser, he saw +how horrible it was. I almost know he did.”</p> + +<p>“I am only twenty-one and the siege is booked,” laughed Bombs. “I wonder +if Mrs. Ruth Cornwallis will come to witness it? I should think she would +be interested, especially if one of her grandfathers paid French money for +it and the other had to surrender.”</p> + +<p>“I think she will not, but I’m going to ask her today,” replied Adelaide, +as she started off for the Library.</p> + +<p>When she returned she told Bombs that Ruth was supposedly allied to the +Laurens and Cornwallis of Revolutionary fame and that her husband, Ralph +Oswald Norwood, could trace his ancestry back to the British merchant who +told King George that “nothing would satisfy the Americans short of +permission to fish to an unlimited extent on the banks of New Foundland.”</p> + +<p>“Then I shall have to give them seats in the front row, I suppose,” +laughed Bombs.</p> + +<p>“No, they are not coming, Mr. Bombs. Ruth attended the Queen’s birthday +celebration once when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> she was in Canada. It wound up with one of the +great London Pyro-king’s shows. She did not like it at all and was +afterwards shocked to learn that America had paid millions of dollars for +such shows during the twenty-five years of his occupancy of her market and +that they were advertisements for his Fourth of July Fireworks, which are +a curse to the land.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Bombs received the information with an air of unconcern and Adelaide +went to her father’s office. She had a piece of information for him also, +and something more.</p> + +<p>“O father, Ruth can’t come to our dedication if you are going to have a +military company with guns and swords and a Fourth of July racket band in +the procession. Such things make her sick.”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense, Adelaide! I guess she can stand it since the small boy is +not permitted to have a hand in it.”</p> + +<p>“No she can’t, father. It isn’t nonsense. How would you feel if I should +be brought to you tomorrow all torn to pieces as her little brother was?”</p> + +<p>“O, my dear child! don’t mention it!”</p> + +<p>“But I <i>must</i> mention it and I want you to look straight into my eyes and +answer me truly! Suppose I should be brought home to you this Fourth with +my eyes both blown out and mamma’s jewels lodged in the sockets, do you +think you could ever bear the sight or sound of horrid explosive things<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +after that—bear them without a shudder—even if they were in the hands of +grown-up people?”</p> + +<p>“Such a thing never could happen, Addie.”</p> + +<p>“It did happen to Ruth’s little brother. The jewels were his mother’s +wedding sapphires.”</p> + +<p>“O Addie! Addie!”</p> + +<p>“Answer me truly, father.”</p> + +<p>“No, dear child, I never could.”</p> + +<p>“Ruth can’t either. She has more reason than you could have. She’s like +poor Mary, the gardener’s wife. Her husband and parents know it wouldn’t +be safe for her to come if there’s going to be guns or things of that +sort. She wants to come so much that Ralph was going to speak to you and +see if they couldn’t be left out; but I told him I was the one to speak, +because the Library was going to be named for me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, there is something in that, Adelaide, most assuredly there is; but +it’s rather short notice. The military company were coming on the morning +train.”</p> + +<p>“Telegraph. You’d do it if stocks were in jeopardy—you know you +would—you are such a hustler.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, of course! Here it goes then. I can’t ruin my reputation as a +hustler,” said Schwarmer, stepping to the ’phone and calling up the +regiment. “Don’t come to the dedication of The Adelaide Library.”</p> + +<p>“Now, there’s one hustle for you, what next?”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> laughed Schwarmer. Adelaide +laughed too and clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>“O! isn’t it jolly, father! The soldiers can stay at home for once and +dear, sweet, little Mrs. Ruth can come.”</p> + +<p>“What next, Addie? I’ve got on my hustling cap. Call off.”</p> + +<p>“The Independence Day racket band and the rockets must be left out of the +procession, father.”</p> + +<p>“O! now! that strikes nearer home, Addie! But I can do it. I can hustle +things near by, most assuredly I can, if I once set out with my hustling +suit all on. Bombs will have to confine his fire to Yorktown if I say so, +won’t he?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and you’ll say so, won’t you, father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Addie, I’ll say so if you really want me to; but aren’t you afraid +it will hurt Bombs’ feelings to have his precious rockets left out <i>in the +dark</i>, so to speak. He has invented a new kind on purpose for daylight +show—very rich and dark and velvety, exceedingly so, and he has named it +the ‘Airy Navy Rocket.’ I suppose he intends it for a hit at Lord +Tennyson’s ‘airy navies grappling in the central blue,’ and no doubt but +they’d get hurt if they should ever materialize sufficiently to get hit +with Bombs’ rockets,” laughed Schwarmer, looking at Adelaide, keenly. He +was wondering how she stood affected toward the young man.</p> + +<p>“Airy Navy Rocket!” exclaimed Adelaide. “I won’t have it. I don’t care if +his feelings <i>are</i> hurt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> You know how his horrid rocket hurt poor Mary. +It killed her baby, hurt her feelings and made her sick. She and her +children are going over to Ruth’s to stay the night of the Fourth. She is +afraid to stay with us. O dear! dear! I think it’s dreadful to have our +own people feel that way toward us. I can’t endure it. I thought the +Common Council had passed a law against sending off dangerous rockets.”</p> + +<p>“They have, but it didn’t include Bombs’ brand-fired new navy rocket; and +even if it had a few little fines wouldn’t cramp him much,” laughed +Schwarmer.</p> + +<p>“But I include it. I say he has no business to put those hissing horrors +into the Adelaide Library procession. I won’t have the Library named +Adelaide if he does.”</p> + +<p>“Good for Adelaide,” laughed Schwarmer. “That ends it. I promise. What +next? There is something more. I see it in your eye.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. There <i>is</i> one thing more. Promise not to have the cannon let off. +Ruth doesn’t like to hear it and it makes her mother cry, because little +Laurens shivered when he heard it the morning before he was killed, and +asked her why you didn’t have a bugle?”</p> + +<p>Schwarmer turned quickly to the ’phone and called up a music-dealer: +“Please send me at once the best bugle and bugler that there is in the +market.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>“That’s all, dear blessed father. I’m so happy! What a truly glorious time +we are going to have,” cried Adelaide, as she danced out of the office and +hastened away to the Library to tell Ruth the good news. She did not tell +her about the bugle; but it came in time to speak for itself.</p> + +<p>It’s sweet notes penetrated the Cornwallis cottage as the Fourth of July +dawned. Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis were asleep when the first note came. When +the second note came Mrs. Cornwallis awoke and wondered if she were still +on earth. She had dreamed of being in Heaven with Laurens and listening to +a bugle call. It seemed so real to her that she shook her husband’s arm.</p> + +<p>“The bugle! The bugle! Did you hear it? Are we in Heaven?”</p> + +<p>“Not quite, Angeline, but I think we are happier than we have been in +years and I <i>do</i> hear a bugle. It’s time for the cannon. Do you suppose +anybody could have put it into Schwarmer’s head to have a bugle instead of +a cannon?”</p> + +<p>Ruth and Ralph were awake when the first note sounded. She was gathering +up her nerves for the booming of the cannon and Ralph was saying: “I +believe Miss Schwarmer would influence her father to do away with that +monster if she knew how it hurt you and especially your mother.”</p> + +<p>“She does know it, Ralph, and I believe she has done it,” exclaimed Ruth, +springing up and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>listening intently. “Yes, Ralph, don’t you hear it? It’s +a bugle! Really a bugle!”</p> + +<p>Another note sweeter and louder greeted them.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is a bugle and a very fine one. What a blessed creature Adelaide +Schwarmer is!” said Ralph.</p> + +<p>Ruth could not speak. Her heart was so full of gladness, but she indulged +in what Ralph called “a happy cry.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> +<p class="title">THE DEDICATION OF THE LIBRARY.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">The</span> dedication of the library proved to be a very enjoyable affair +although the military “fuss and feather,” the Independence Day racket and +the ostentatious hoisting of flags were left out. It was more like a +church dedication, minus the mounted marshals and uniformed cadets which +are among the latter day improvements or experiments. The Schwarmers stood +out more conspicuously than they would otherwise have done; but they were +no more so than the Killsbury people felt that they had a right to be. +Mrs. Schwarmer was in regal robes with which the ladies were much pleased. +Mrs. Martin nodded to Mrs. Arundel and said:</p> + +<p>“She has honored us at last by putting on her best apparel.”</p> + +<p>Adelaide was dressed in a lovely white mull. Nobody had noticed until then +how very pretty she had grown. Mr. Schwarmer insisted on wearing his plain +business suit as it was eminently proper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> he should since he had to do the +main business part—that is, hand over the deeds to the Town. That being +done he made a short characteristic speech, in which he said:</p> + +<p>“This building is not a monument to myself, most assuredly it is not; but +it would have been if the architect had carried his point. He planned to +have a giraffe style of tower, which was to rise about sixty feet above +the roof and be furnished with a bell that would weigh 3,000 pounds and +peal out every hour of the day and night. But as it was going to be a gift +to the people and named after my daughter I thought they ought to have +something to say about it, and they did; most assuredly they did (cheers +and laughter). You see, my dear friends and fellow citizens, I have +discarded the old barbarous saying—‘Never look a gift-horse in the +mouth.’ Hereafter my maxim will be: Look a gift horse in the mouth very +carefully and pay particular attention to his grinders. (Laughter and +applause.) But, as I was saying, the architect’s plan was handed over to +the Golden Rule President and referred to the people—‘all the people,’ my +daughter included, and they decided that the giraffe tower and thunderous +bell would be a superfluity if not a nuisance, most assuredly they did. +They decided that they did not want to be kept awake nights by the +clanging and the whanging of a brazen bell. Also that they had never had +any trouble finding out the time of day.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>Schwarmer sat down amidst cries of “Good, good!” “Schwarmer’s a wit.” +“What’s the matter with Schwarmer? He’s a wit. He’s a wit.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Schwarmer was to do the naming of the library as Adelaide was under +age; and so it was highly proper and natural that Adelaide should stand +between her father and mother during the process; and she did stand +between them with her slender hands resting on an arm of each and looking +as one of the Killsburyians remarked, “for all the world as though she +were going to fly.”</p> + +<p>She really did feel happy enough to fly when she saw the radiant faces of +Ruth and Ralph and of Mrs. and Mr. Cornwallis, who had come on from +Chicago on purpose to attend the dedication.</p> + +<p>Yes, the people of Killsbury really did enjoy this peaceful, home-like +affair. Although they may not have been fully aware of it, they really + +enjoyed it much more than they possibly could, if there had been a whole +regiment of strange soldiers to take all the best seats and leave them to +hang on the outside and peer in at the doors and windows. They enjoyed the +speeches, for all the speech-makers in town were there, the Golden Rule +President and Father Ferrill inclusive. They would not have heard a word +of them if they had been pushed to the background, with an Independence +day racket in the rear. Besides it was so much more in harmony with books +and the spirits that made them or would wish to commune with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> them, than +the ordinary civic fuss and noise would have been.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bombs did not attend. Indeed why should he? He had no interest in it +after his new rockets were left out and he was almost as much a stranger +in the community as the soldier would have been. Besides he was going to +rehearse his piece.</p> + +<p>Adelaide appreciated the former reason and Mr. Schwarmer the latter.</p> + +<p>“That’s right, Fons,” said Mr. Schwarmer, “you must have your siege all +fixed so nobody will get hurt, most assuredly you must. You’d better leave +out some of the most striking things than to have anybody struck blind. I +don’t know of anybody on this side of the drink that would be willing to +be made black and blue all over or have his hair burned off by the falling +of a burning tower, as old Crags did at a Pyro-show in London.”</p> + +<p>“You forget that even his willingness didn’t hold out,” laughed Bombs. “He +clothed himself with asbestos for the last night.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t know as I blame him much and I’m sure Addie wouldn’t blame him at +all, most assuredly I am,” nodded Schwarmer significantly.</p> + +<p>Adelaide and her mother came out a moment later dressed for the library. +Bombs looked at Adelaide as though he had never seen her before, made his +lowest bow and went to his rehearsal. It was well he did for one of the +Pyro-men was on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> point of charging a motor that would have laid +Yorktown in ashes before the siege began.</p> + +<p>As it was, however, the siege came off at the appointed time and was +witnessed by a large majority of the people of Killsbury besides the +Schwarmer guests that came up on the evening train.</p> + +<p>The best that can be said of the siege is that it passed off very smoothly +and without incident. Historically considered it was just about as +valuable as the famous pyro-show of the burning of Rome, where Nero goes +down beneath a falling pillar of fire. The siege of Yorktown ended with +the going down of Lord Cornwallis and his 8,000 soldiers into the +pyrotechnic gulf especially prepared for them.</p> + +<p>The audience applauded and Adelaide was feeling relieved to think that all +was over when a vociferous encore set in and Mr. Bombs came on the stage. +He looked amazingly brilliant. He had all his jewels on surely, and more +too, she thought. There seemed to be a nest of them in the curl of jet +black hair on his forehead. Was he going to do that tiresome siege over +again? No, he would make a bow and a speech, and that would end it +certainly.</p> + +<p>He began: “The London Pyro-king who boasts of his prowess in this country, +has invented a piece which he calls ‘<i>Eagle Screams</i>’. Turn about is fair +play. I have invented a piece which I have named ‘<i>Johnny Bull’s +Bellows</i>.’ You will now have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> the pleasure or grief of looking Johnny full +in the face and listening to his bellowings.”</p> + +<p>He bowed again more politely and gracefully than before—as graceful as +a—serpent, she finally put it and “polite enough to shake hands with a +crab,” as the Indians say. She had never seen him look so +splendid—so—startling; but she liked him less than ever.</p> + +<p>The bull’s head that was formed while Adelaide was forming her opinions +was shaped like a veritable bull’s head and outlined with stars of small +magnitude. From its mouth and nostrils issued great streams of different +colored fires. The bellowings were effectively but mysteriously produced.</p> + +<p>“I can’t see faw the life of me, Mr. Bombs, just how you could have +compassed all that,” Miss Drawling was saying, when something in the +nature of a revelation cut short her sentence. The bellowings suddenly +ceased and loud oaths and grumblings and groanings took their place. Mr. +Bombs rushed behind the scenes and saw the man whom he had engaged to do +the bellowing, lying in a collapsed condition on the floor of the stage +with a whiskey bottle in his hand.</p> + +<p>“Confound you!” exclaimed Bombs, “what does all this mean?”</p> + +<p>“It means that the lungs av me have been giving out with the dress +rehearsal and the play on top av it and I am sthriving to reinforce +them.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>“Allow me to say that your efforts are not successful. You can be excused +until further notice, and you,” he added turning to the chief Pyro, “will +oblige me by winding up the spectacle without any more swearing.”</p> + +<p>The spectacle of Johnny Bull’s Bellows was wound up according to order and +Mr. Bombs appeared on the stage and gave a humorous account of the +complication behind the scenes which had cut off the spectacle rather +prematurely, and added that it was not quite so bad as the thing that had +happened to Mr. Pang on his first presentation of the burning of Rome. He +related the incident and the guests were greatly amused—almost as much, +perhaps, as they would have been if “Johnny Bull’s Bellowings” had been +carried out to the full extent.</p> + +<p>And so, Mr. Bombs fancied he had not failed after all. If he had done +nothing more he had proved himself to have the proper personality for the +making of a successful Pyro-King. He could fascinate and mystify the +public. “You see,” he said to Adelaide the next morning, “I might better +have such accidents and experiences now than when I get about my larger +piece—‘The Battle of the Wilderness.’”</p> + +<p>“The Battle of the Wilderness!” exclaimed Adelaide. “Is it possible you +are going to try making an amusement out of that dreadful battle?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s a possibility,” laughed Bombs, “and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> I know of another +possibility, that will match it beautifully.”</p> + +<p>“What is it, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“That Miss Adelaide Schwarmer will not be so scrupulous about such matters +when I return from Europe as she is now.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you think so, Mr. Bombs? Have you changed that way since you were +my age?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss Adelaide, but I was a boy and you are a girl.”</p> + +<p>“What difference could that make, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“A mighty sight of difference, Miss Adelaide. You were not educated or +expected to have anything to do with business concerns. I was and with the +very biggest kind, and they all mean war, more or less.”</p> + +<p>“O dear, how dreadful! I can’t understand it at all, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you can’t, Miss Adelaide. No truly good woman can. Business, +especially of the vasty kind is a devil incarnate in her pure eyes.”</p> + +<p>“And it seems to me that your kind of business is the worst of all, Mr. +Bombs, and that there’s no need of it in this world.”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you think of something more consoling? This is your last chance. I +am going to the city tomorrow to see King Pang beat himself in his +twenty-fifth saturnalia of fire. Then to Chicago to see him help the +Chicagoians beat the St. Louis dedication and re-burn the city. After that +I will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> start out on what you have called my ‘worst of all business.’”</p> + +<p>Adelaide thought of Laurens Cornwallis’ tragic death, of Mary Langley’s +fright and the poor man with the exhausted lungs; but she did not speak +until the silence had become unbearable to Mr. Bombs and he asked:</p> + +<p>“What is it, Miss Adelaide? Why don’t you speak out?”</p> + +<p>“Hush! Mr. Bombs. I am listening! I thought I heard a voice. Your mother’s +or mine.”</p> + +<p>They were discouraging words for the last—almost cruel he thought for him +who had known nothing of mother love and very little of parental care. +They made him feel like a savage almost. He went to Miss Drawling for an +offset. He knew he could get enough encouragement there and he did find +more than enough. Not but what he liked her flattery but the personality +behind it. Faugh! It was simply disgusting. Any woman who could think and +talk as she did, was worse than a man. She was a brute. Would it be ever +thus, was one of the questions he asked himself. Was one truly loveable +creature going to say things to him that would not be endurable in +themselves and was another going to say opposite things which would make +herself a creature to be abhorred. With the unreasonableness of the +youthful man he hoped to find a mean between the two—that is a woman who +would love himself most deeply and devotedly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> even while she was finding +fault with and condoning his business enterprise. He did not realize it +but it was as much as to say that he knew he was launching out in an +unrighteous course; but that he was determined not to turn from it for the +love of any creature whatever. Adelaide understood his attitude toward +herself and she did not care a rush for it; but there was something about +his attitude to others which she did not fully understand. It was +struggling to light and it filled her soul with dread.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +<p class="title">ADELAIDE STAYS AT HOME WITH HER FATHER.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Mr. Bombs</span> did not go to Chicago alone nor as soon as he intended. He +planned to go at the first breaking out of the Centennial, which was to be +on the day when Chicago was exactly one hundred years old. The city was +expected to be in an unusual state of ferment from the beginning; and many +things were going to be done to herald the coming glory of the Jubilee +week, among the most important of which was to be the much advertised +re-burning of the city.</p> + +<p>“King Pang is trying to keep his fires to the front; but his ‘<i>ads</i>’ will +cost him something,” laughed Bombs scornfully; “for there are others and +others and they are going to make a big show of everything, from a +razor-back porker to a Golden Rule Mayor. It will be tedious.”</p> + +<p>“Everything ‘<i>from a jackass to a lyre</i>,’ as the Romans say,” remarked +Miss Drawling.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and you might spell it l-i-a-r,” sneered Bombs. “I don’t believe +Pang will be there.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>“Then why do you go so soon?” asked Mrs. Schwarmer. “You will die of +<i>te-di-um</i>—not <i>te-deum</i>. There! Mr. Bombs you have spoiled me. I never +made a pun before in my life. I had rather make a pie than a pun.”</p> + +<p>They all laughed and Bombs said he “must obey his royal father’s mandate, +and find out all he could about Pang’s trade, with or without King Pang’s +aid.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps if you will wait a little we will go with you and try to divide +the tedium into shares,” suggested Mrs. Schwarmer, whereupon there +occurred a large amount of social banter which finally ended in a +declaration from the ladies that if he would <i>wait</i> they would surely +accompany him; and a declaration from <i>him</i> that if <i>they</i> would surely +accompany him, <i>he</i> would surely wait.</p> + +<p>“And you, Miss Adelaide, and Mr. Schwarmer—you will go and take shares +with us, will you not?” asked Bombs.</p> + +<p>“Say no, father. We don’t want any stock in the Chicago Jubilee. Let’s +stay here together,” said Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“Of course we will stay and keep house, Addie—that is, eat up our +dividends, so to speak.”</p> + +<p>“Good! Good!” laughed Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“Indeed, Miss Adelaide! Won’t you feel rather lonely to have us all flit +away?”</p> + +<p>“No, Mr. Bombs. I can go to see Ruth every day and the faithful Dombey +will be my escort. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> like it here. It’s so beautiful, still and sweet. I +would not go to Chicago and be in all that smoke, dust, fire, dynamite and +stuff for anything. O how happy we are going to be here, aren’t we +father?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Addie, quite comfortable, I reckon. Of course we shall miss them, +most assuredly we shall; but we’ll try and not grow thin over it,” laughed +Schwarmer.</p> + +<p>The next day after their departure Adelaide went to see Ruth and took her +mother’s journal as she had promised.</p> + +<p>“You see how dearly I prize it,” she said, taking off the rose-scented +covering. “I have had it rebound and adorned with her own portrait and +those of other <i>Friends</i> so far as I can find them—every one she +mentioned in the Journal—William Penn, Elizabeth Fry, Lucretia Mott and +many others.”</p> + +<p>She handed it to Ruth to look at the portraits. It was bound in soft gray +plush and had bands and clasps of solid silver.</p> + +<p>“O how delicate and shining!” exclaimed Ruth taking it tenderly from her +hand—“like her quiet, cheerful spirit I fancy.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s the way I tried to have it seem,” replied Adelaide brushing +away a tear; “but I didn’t know as you would understand it. Her dresses +are all of this dove-like tint. Sometimes when I am alone I put them on.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>“Did she wear the Friends’ cap and bonnet?” asked Ruth.</p> + +<p>“No, she did not think them essential; but she drew the line at adornments +for the production of which human life is imperiled or animal life +recklessly destroyed,” replied Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“And this is your mamma on the first page? How much you look like her!”</p> + +<p>“Not mamma, but mother,” said Adelaide. “She wanted me to call her +mother—to speak of her and think of her as mother, and I always have. I +call my <i>second</i> mother, mamma.”</p> + +<p>“How old were you when she died?” asked Ruth.</p> + +<p>“Three years, and father married again when I was four.”</p> + +<p>Ruth handed back the journal and Adelaide began reading in a low tuneful +voice like that of a mother talking to her child.</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Dear Daughter Adelaide</span>:</p> + +<p>“The doctors say that I have consumption—the incurable disease, and that I +cannot live many years at the longest. I can hardly believe it—I feel so +well and happy and have such a desire to live and be ever near thee to +guard thee against the evils and perils of this world; but lest I may not +I will try to make it plain to thee what the evils and perils are that +encompass us around and about—plain to thee according to my light, +received through the teachings that have been handed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> down to me through a +long line of ancestry, from such good and wise men as George Fox and +William Penn. Remember that I do not say that they were the only wise +teachers in the world or that their light is the perfect light or rather +all the light; but that it is good so far as it goes has not as yet been +gainsayed. Even thy father who was not reared in my faith, can find no +flaw in it except that it is impracticable in the present imperfect +conditions of the world. I trust he is beginning to see the light of +Christ as it is and will be. Keep near him, dear child, very near him. +Seek for the living light together, hand in hand. It is needed everywhere, +in our daily walk and conversation and even in our dress and adornments. I +am not one who thinks that the cut or style of a dress or hat is of great +importance and yet I have been led to perceive that there is a line beyond +which it would be a sin to go—that we should use nothing for personal +adornment which calls for the cruel slaughter of animals or for vicious +and degrading work from our fellow creatures. Lest words fail to express +my meaning, I will give thee an experience of my own as an illustration.</p> + +<p>“Thy father gave me a set of pearls for a wedding gift. All my friends +both in and out of Friends Society said it was a beautiful and appropriate +gift. I thought so too. Their gentle lustre pleased me. They were in +harmony with my silver-gray gown. We went to Paris for our <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>wedding trip. +One day we visited the famous oyster markets and parks which provide such +a bountiful food supply for the sustenance of the human race.</p> + +<p>“‘What a blessing particularly to the working people,’ said thy father. +‘The ever-ready meat that unlike beef does not have to be killed and +cooked.’</p> + +<p>“But even while we were talking of the goodness of Providence in +furnishing such a convenient sort of food, a shadow crossed our path, that +startled us both. It was a man with a sallow complexion, bulging brow and +piercing eyes. He was hurrying on at a wild and rapid pace but as he +observed us he stopped stone still and glared at us—or rather at my pearl +brooch and ring—glancing from one to the other with a greedy look that +frightened me for I had read of people being robbed of jewels in the +streets of Paris in broad daylight.</p> + +<p>“‘Oh! he’s not dangerous,’ laughed the guide. ‘He’s one of those +scientific wretches who is on the watchout for pearl oysters. He goes +prowling around the oyster beds and markets in search of them. He was +looking at your pearls to see if they had a <i>perfect skin</i> and a <i>fine +orient</i>.’</p> + +<p>“‘I see he is interested in oysters as pearl producers instead of food +products,’ said thy father.</p> + +<p>“‘He has curious ideas about pearls,’ said the guide. ‘He says they are +the product of disease in the animal—that the disease is contagious and +he is hard at work trying to spread the contagion!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span>“‘Spreading contagion among oysters! What a work for a sane man,’ said thy +father. ‘How does he manage the business?’</p> + +<p>“‘He takes the oysters that are afflicted with the pearl disease and puts +them in the bed with those that are not afflicted and keeps them there +until they catch the disease. He says it is as easy to spread as the small +pox.’</p> + +<p>“O how horrid! I cried. How satanic! To think of going to work +deliberately to introduce disease and contagion, even among the lower +forms of life! And he does all this, not to benefit the hungry poor but to +hang more and more pearls around the necks of the greedy rich!</p> + +<p>“Thy father laughed; but it was no laughing matter for me. I cried over my +wedding pearls that night and resolved to lock them up out of my sight as +soon as I returned home.</p> + +<p>“The next day I was strengthened in my resolution by meeting with a pearl +diver. The poor man was worn out before his time by this dreadful +business. He sat day after day by the sea looking out upon its sparkling +surface and dreaming and talking of the perils he had encountered down +below in its green gloom—of the hideous armor he wore when he went forth +to war with its savage army of sharks and devil-fishes, in order to win +pearls for the Queens of the world and the queens of men’s hearts.</p> + +<p>“Will you show us your awful armor? I asked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>“‘Certainly, madam, and get my son to trick me out in it, though I’ve +never worn it since the day that the shark cut off my air pipe and the +terrible pressure blew out my eye balls and ear drums to the bursting +point.’</p> + +<p>“O don’t put the horrid thing on, I pleaded, only show it to us.</p> + +<p>“But put it on he would—the ply upon ply of clothing, the heavy weights +for the feet, back and breast and the awful barred helmet, which was +screwed up at last like a lid to a coffin, making him deaf and dumb to the +outside world! O, my child, I cannot tell thee of the sensations I felt as +I looked upon that manacled denuded specimen of the human being sent out +to fight the vain war for <i>pearls</i>!</p> + +<p>“But the worst of all is the war between governments and nations. It is +the giant murder. It impoverishes and brutalizes humanity. It is the +cardinal sin against which the Society of Friends have always striven. +George Fox began the good fight, and William Penn though reared for the +army and tempted by rewards of glory and honor, renounced all and joined +the blessed Brotherhood of Peace. Not only that but he came to this new +world and put his principles into practice, as thou wilt see when thou are +old enough to read his life which thou wilt find in my little library that +I have willed to thee. Read it and ponder it in thy heart, dear child. It +will tell thee far better than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> I can of the sin and horror of war and the +beauty and loveliness of peace.</p> + +<p>“Look about thee and search out the apostles and prophets of peace the +world over and establish spiritual or visible communion with the friends +of peace everywhere. Those that preach and write and paint—foremost among +whom at the present time are Count Tolstoi and Vassili Verestchagin of far +off Russia. I had read much about Tolstoi and knew of his great influence +for peace; but it had never occurred to me that an artist could make the +painted lesson fully as effective until we met Vassili on our trip abroad +and talked with him face to face. He was educated for the navy even as +Penn was, but he laid aside the sword for palette and brushes and painted +the horrors of war so truly and in such living colors that no one with a +soul could look upon them without being converted to peace—so truly that +the German soldiers were not permitted to look upon them! So truly that +the Russian soldiers fled their country rather than be compelled to join +the army. So truly that he was counselled by the Government to destroy one +of his greatest truth-tellers—a large picture of Alexandre II. sitting +safely on a hill watching the awful slaughter of his soldiers at the +battle of Plevua.</p> + +<p>“The truth seems terrible to behold, especially to ‘the powers that be,’ +said Vassili as we stood by the ghastly picture of the ‘Frozen Sentinel in +the Shipka<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> Pass,’ but I can’t help that, I must paint the truth or +nothing. I wade through the inferno of the most hideous battles for the +precious kernel of truth, and when I find it I can’t gloss it over and +make it appear what it is not. If you ever have another awful war in +America I shall have to come over and paint it truly.”</p> + +<p>“‘You need not wait for another war,’ said I, ‘to get material for a +warning truth. We have a glorification of war every year—yes, twice a +year now; that is more dangerous than war itself, because it begins at the +root. It takes hold of the children.’</p> + +<p>“‘I shall be there in good time,’ were his last words to us. I believe +that he will come, dear child, and that thou wilt see him and help him in +his mission of truth.</p> + +<p>“Next to the giant murder of war there is another murder that is like unto +it. It is not wholesale murder like that which is done by the Government +army, but it is worse in some respects. It is surely worse for the one who +strikes the death blow—for the man that is hired by the Government to +murder its criminals inasmuch as such a life-taker is abhorred not only by +the criminals whom he releases from life as gently as possible, but by the +people whose instrument he is; while the other murderer, the army officer +who leads hundreds of splendid young men and horses over wounded bodies of +friends or foes to cruel slaughter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> is applauded on all sides and covered +with honor and glory.</p> + +<p>“I saw them standing side by side one day—these two kinds of murderers. +One was plainly dressed and carried a grimy black bag in his white bony +hand. He was wrinkled and old before his time. He was nervous and +shrinking, as though the fingers of the living were pointing at him and +the curses of the dead following him.</p> + +<p>“The other man was richly dressed and had a sword at his belt. He was +large, full-fleshed and florid. He was bold, brazen and bulging, as though +the whole world were at his back, pushing him forward and encouraging him +to cultivate every bestial faculty to the full extent.</p> + +<p>“Yes, dear Adelaide; I saw these two men standing side by side one day at +a railway station. It was before thou wert born. I knew well enough who +the man with the sword was, but the other!—the frightened, woe-begone +looking man? Thy father did not want to tell me about him at first. He +thought it might hurt thee and me. He was foolish about such matters as +kind husbands are apt to be. It cannot hurt anyone to talk and think +freely at any time about anything that is worth thinking or talking about. +It hurts them and those born of them to suppress the truth.”</p> + +<p>“O how true!” exclaimed Ruth! “Ralph ought to hear that.”</p> + +<p>Adelaide nodded as she went on.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>“And I did think of those men until my journey was ended, and I have +thought of them many times since. Thanks to my righteous teachers I was +able to see them as they were. They filled my soul with horror and +pity—pity, for I perceived that they were the monsters the Government +(which is ourselves) had made. But I pitied the scared looking man with +the grimy black bag in which his weapon of death lay concealed more than I +did the man with the glittering sword that he wore boldly in the eyes of +all. He looked so wretched, so oppressed and conscience stricken, that I +thought the time would surely come when he would throw off the terrible +yoke that had been put upon him and refuse to use the bolts of heaven for +the extinction of human life. But when I heard that he was working by +night and day on an awful chair—a veritable throne of death on which the +criminal will sit and die without looking upon his executioner’s hated +presence; my pity was mingled with loathing, for I perceived that he was a +willing instrument instead of a terrible necessity, and that he cared +nothing for the victims of the law except that he might be spared from +their cursings and hate. That he was plotting against them while he was +hiding away from them and making of that <i>death-machine a life-work</i>.</p> + +<p>“Beware of all such men, my dear daughter. Believe thy mother when she +tells thee that the life-taker is sure to be a brute. Trust not thyself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +least of all to the so-called capable brute. See to it that the occupation +of the man that would marry thee be not of their kind.</p> + +<p>“In short, marry no one unless the spirit moves thee strongly. Remember +that the credit is not to those who bring the most children into the world +but those that bring the best or take the best care of those that are +already here.”</p> + +<p>Adelaide paused and looked at Ruth questioningly.</p> + +<p>“She meant that the Krupp guns, torpedo boats and all those horrible war +implements were inventions of the capable brute, did she not?” asked +Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“Yes, and more too. She meant all those dangerous things that are made for +boys to celebrate with,” said Ruth.</p> + +<p>“And the capable brutes are such inventors as Krupp and Pang—and Bombs,” +added Adelaide hesitatingly, as though averse to including him in the same +class.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied Ruth; “but Mr. Bombs is young and perhaps you can influence +him to do better things.”</p> + +<p>Adelaide shook her head vigorously. Ruth had not quite caught her meaning +but she did not know just how to explain it, so she went on with the +journal.</p> + +<p>“Next to the cruel game of war are the celebrations that glorify war or +warriors. They are <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>murderous at the core and they are growing worse and +worse every year. Notably our Independence Day. I was never so fully +conscious of it as now. I have just been to see a little boy who is dying +of <i>Tetanus</i>. His sufferings were terrible to witness. His father gave him +that invention of the evil one, a toy pistol. No father in our society +would have done such a thing. O how I wish Vassili had been there to paint +the scene in its true horror and exhibit it all over this reckless +American continent.</p> + +<p>“Last of all come the games of chance. Many of them are dangerous to life +and limb and all of them are more or less sinful. They are wrong in +principle inasmuch as they are a waste of energy—the great Divine energy +that was given us for the regeneration of the world and the building up +and beautifying of the God-given body instead of tearing it down, defacing +it, brutalizing it and arousing within it the murderous spirit of +resistance and revenge. Such games are too numerous to mention. Thou wilt +know them by their signs. They are among the perils that encompass thee +around and about.</p> + +<p>“Look at them with an unclouded vision. Let not custom blind thee to their +sinuousness and wrong. Set an honest face against them. Cast out the devil +that is in them and invent new ways of amusing the young and entertaining +the old.</p> + +<p>“Think of these things, dear child. Think of the women and children that +are shivering and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> starving while millions and millions are being spent in +battleships and hideous inventions for the destruction of human life. +Raise thy voice against them and do whatsoever thou canst to avert or heal +the poverty and misery that follow in their track.</p> + +<p>“How I wish I could be spared to go with thee, for I feel that thou <i>wilt</i> +go about doing good to souls in need. Yes, the spirit tells me so, dear +child, and I must listen and be content.”</p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 8em;">Truly thine,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Eleanor Townsend Schwarmer</span>.</span></p> + +<p>“How I wish she could have been spared; and how I wish I could see Vassili +Verestchagin!” whispered Adelaide as she closed the journal.</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> +<p class="title">A WONDERFUL CHANGE IN KILLSBURY.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">In</span> less than four years after the events recorded in the last chapter a +young man of fascinating appearance stepped off from the train at the +Killsbury station. His name was Alfonso Bombs. He had just returned from +his trip abroad. He had seen the Russo-Japanese army fighting like +fiends—setting hellish traps for each other and blowing whole regiments +into eternity. Vassili Verestchagin had lost his life in the terrible +explosion of the Petropavlovsk and thousands of men had died awful deaths +through the same satanic agencies that had snatched this noble +truth-painter from his needed work. The commercial world was being made +hideous with the manufacture and transportation of monstrous battleships +and explosives. Mr. Schwarmer had been blown to atoms by a dynamite +explosion on a railroad train and his widow had married a military man and +was deeply interested in “<i>The Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to +Animals</i>.” She contemplated giving a fine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> building for its use and +enlarging its scope by adding an infirmary for disabled war-horses; but +Mr. Bombs was not thinking of these things nor of the immense army of +youth that was being prepared for the annual slaughter although it was +Independence Day and the nation’s flag was flying from every train. He +refused the proffered carriage and walked leisurely through the town, +stopping here and there and looking around in pleased surprise. It seemed +to him that the whole atmosphere of the place had changed. The gardens +were full of flowers, the lawns were green and velvety, the crooked old +fences had disappeared, the sidewalks were in a perfect condition, the +roads were gravelled, and the ugly hollows filled up.</p> + +<p>When he got to Library Street, he stopped and surveyed it critically. The +improvement was still more apparent there. The Adelaide Library was +handsomely winged. He wondered how it would be with Adelaide herself. He +felt that she would have wings spiritual if not visible—quite after his +heart’s desire. He reasoned that if all these improvements had been made +through her influence, she must be a very rare woman and well beloved—so +well that she would not need any other love perhaps. Then the little viper +of jealousy slid into his heart; but he cast it out with the lash of +self-assurance. He would not think that he could not win her if he should +approve of her and really wish to have her for his very own.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>Up to this point he had not met any one he knew and he was glad he had +not. He went on noting changes until he found himself at the point, where +the street branched off for the “Round About Way” to Schwarmer Hill. He +avoided it instinctively. He took the Straight Road; but his reverie as he +ascended the hill had a tragic element in it that robbed it of its charm.</p> + +<p>After that, the reign of disappointment set in. Schwarmer mansion had not +improved in the least—rather the reverse.</p> + +<p>If he had expressed his thought he would have said:</p> + +<p>“It looks as though it had doffed a turret and were reaching down to bring +the buildings below up to its own stature.”</p> + +<p>The truth was, Adelaide had ordered one of the most useless and imposing +turrets to be taken down as it was found to be unsafe.</p> + +<p>The Queery buildings remained intact and the grounds were greatly +improved; but he saw at a glance that it was an improvement in which he +and his Pyro-pieces had not been taken into account. Little children were +playing on the grass, small boys and girls were running from the fountain +to the garden and baby carts were being wheeled about the numerous walks. +He hastened on to the mansion and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>Mary Langley opened the door and started back.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span>“O I see that you remember me,” laughed Bombs. +“Is Miss Adelaide at home?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Adelaide is down at the college. Will you come in and wait for her?”</p> + +<p>“Thanks. I will wait on the veranda or roam about. I find many changes of +interest.”</p> + +<p>He sat down and rested from his walk while he looked out over the handsome +grounds and inhaled the odor of violets and mignonette. After he had +rested he went out to the brow of the hill. There was always a strong +breeze on the brow of the hill; but there was something else this +morning—something more stirring than the rustling leaves. There were +musical sounds. His first thought was that they were from the throats of +young orioles. He listened intently and heard instead of warblings, fine +strains of music like those of an aeolian harp.</p> + +<p>“Yes a hundred aeolian harps!” he ejaculated and the fancy possessed him +that Adelaide had taken advantage of the situation and had strung aeolian +harps in the tops of the trees for the winds of heaven to play upon. He +did not try to find out if it were so. If it were a delusion he preferred +to enjoy it instead of dispelling it. He stood still and listened +intently.</p> + +<p>Without knowing it he stood on the very spot where Mary Langley had lost +her baby. He hit his toe against a stone and looking down he saw that, it +was fringed with moss and bore a name and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> date in tiny artistic letters. +The name was <i>Adelaide S. Langley</i> and the date was <i>July 4th, 1902</i>. He +knew then that he had been doubly remembered; but it was not flattering to +his vanity to be remembered so strongly in this case, any more than it was +to be entirely forgotten in the matter of transforming The Queery grounds +into a children’s park. He turned away abruptly and saw Adelaide Schwarmer +coming up the hill.</p> + +<p>He knew her at a glance; but he was a trifle disappointed. His first +thought was, that like the mansion she had been holding herself down to +the level of the Killsbury people.</p> + +<p>“You surprise me,” he said. “You have changed so very, very little.”</p> + +<p>“And you do not seem to have changed at all; and yet I am not surprised.”</p> + +<p>“But you were at the changeable age and I was not.”</p> + +<p>“And you have been changing places and peoples and views constantly. I +should think you would be changed by reflection if nothing more.”</p> + +<p>“There is something in that apparently,” laughed Bombs. “Then it must be +because you have lived in the same place and with the same people that you +look the same. If the theory is true you should move on in order to attain +a full development. That would be in accordance with Goethe’s idea would +it not?</p> + +<p class="poem"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +‘Keep not standing fixed and rooted.<br /> +Briskly venture—briskly roam.’</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I didn’t ‘foot it freely’ enough to receive a benefaction of +bronze and muscle that the ladies admire.”</p> + +<p>“From the Occident to the Orient even on wheels, there must be much to see +and learn, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss Adelaide, and much that is not worth learning. When I was in +Turkey, I learned nothing of more interest than that the Sultan had +finished his forty days fast at Ramazar and taken a new wife.”</p> + +<p>“But the treacherous war, with its horrid weapons! You must have seen how +awful it was, Mr. Bombs?”</p> + +<p>“It was the same old story, Miss Adelaide; men were made to kill each +other with fists or dynamite—no matter which.”</p> + +<p>“You are caustic as ever, Mr. Bombs. You must have spent your time chiefly +with chemicals and in lurid laboratories—looking inward instead of +outward—trying to find out and master the hidden forces. Father told me +of your investigations only the day before he died,” said Adelaide closing +her eyes and leaning back in her chair.</p> + +<p>There was silence for a few moments, then she added: “Please tell me what +you have discovered, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t much to be told at present date,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> Miss Adelaide, except that +I have discovered or think I have, the long sought for and greatly to be +desired explosive—the ideal force which combines the highest known power +with perfect safety in use; an explosive which when put upon the market +and used in the place of dynamite will make such accidents as that which +cost your father his life, practically impossible.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe such awful things can <i>be</i> made safe, any more than the +arch-fiend himself, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“But they can be, Miss Adelaide, if properly harnessed and handled—at +least my explosive can be. It will not explode unless rightly treated or +<i>en</i>-treated. It is very particular about that,” laughed Bombs. “It won’t +respond to hard knocks or kicks or a shower of bullets, and a child might +treat it to a lighted match and coals of fire and it would do no more than +burn with a gentle blue flame. An ounce of it would make a safe and +satisfactory firecracker in a boy’s hands; while the same quantity in +skilful hands, could be made to blow up an immense battleship!”</p> + +<p>“How horrible!” exclaimed Adelaide. “What need have we for such powerful +explosives? Are we commanded to wreck the world—or grind it into powder? +I heard a few days ago of a man who had invented a machine that would +crunch up great rocks in its horrible jaws in less time than it takes a +dog to eat a bone. At that rate there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> wouldn’t be a rock left in a few +years’ time and the blessed earth would be little else than a succession +of pitfalls!”</p> + +<p>“Pretty good,” laughed Bombs. “It’s time for the inventor of safety +appliances to come to the rescue, eh! Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“We cry safety! and yet there is no safety with such monsters all around +us. If we were all good and wise—full grown savants, we might talk of +safety—but there are the children who don’t know how to use safety +appliances and the criminal who is using dynamite to terrorize the +railroads.”</p> + +<p>“There’s where my explosive has the advantage. There isn’t but one way to +explode it; and there’s too much science about it for the child, the idiot +or the railroad dynamiter. He couldn’t be on hand with an electric +battery; and it can’t be exploded by accident.</p> + +<p>“Let me show you something,” said Bombs, fumbling in his pocket and +bringing forth a small piece of reddish brown substance. “You see how +harmless it looks; and so it is ordinarily but by employing certain +agencies it could be made to blow up as large an establishment as your +library building.”</p> + +<p>She shuddered involuntarily.</p> + +<p>“I see you have no confidence in it, Miss Adelaide,” he said tossing it up +and down in his hand. “I have some larger pieces in my traveling case. I +will prove them to you some day if you like.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>“No! no! Mr. Bombs. I don’t want any proof! This is no longer a fit place +for proving grounds, as you will see.”</p> + +<p>She looked out over the network of walks and added: “The children have +gone home to dinner, but they will be back again soon. They come and go +like the birds of heaven.”</p> + +<p>“O Adelaide, how cruel,” exclaimed Bombs, half in jest. “If your father +were here, he would receive me with open arms. He would be proud to have +me show up my discoveries and inventions. He built the Queery at my +instigation; but you—”</p> + +<p>“Father told me I might do as I liked and he knew I did not like dangerous +things. We were alone here for several weeks and we talked it all over and +made plans,” sobbed Adelaide.</p> + +<p>“Well, don’t cry, Adelaide. I shall not insist. I ought not to wonder that +you feel as you do especially since his death and about anything of the +same nature that caused it; but you will change your mind I am sure when +you see that my invention is entirely the reverse of the old and +everlastingly dangerous ones. I am going to have some experiments tried +with it by Government authority at the Indian Head Proving Grounds later +on, and I hope you will be induced to come and see for yourself that it +will be a blessing rather than a curse. It is ten times more powerful when +its power is needed than the horrible dynamite of which you have had such +a sad experience; but it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> is religiously believed that the very might of +it will make disastrous celebrations and even war practically impossible.”</p> + +<p>“Religiously believed!” exclaimed Adelaide. “I should say that it was +anything but religious to believe that disastrous celebrations and wars +are to be done away with by monstrous life destroying agencies instead of +the human and divine agencies of love and true friendliness. No! no, Mr. +Bombs! That is treacherous military pretense. We have never had any +Independence Day accidents here since the fireworks were abolished. We had +a great many before. Ruth Cornwallis began the crusade against them and +our Golden Rule President with his earnest appeals and wise prohibitions +made a clean sweep of them. You remember Laurens Cornwallis’s mysterious +death. You said you would tell me what you knew about it when you came +back. Please tell me now, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + + + +<p> </p><p> </p> +<hr style="width: 50%;" /> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> +<p class="title">MR. BOMBS TELLS ALL HE KNOWS ABOUT LAURENS CORNWALLIS’ MYSTERIOUS DEATH.</p> + +<p class="dropcap"><span class="caps">Bombs</span> began to explain and Adelaide listened with silent attention until +he came to the point where he sent the four boys to the river bank to make +Laurens divide the fireworks with them.</p> + +<p>“How could you think of doing such a thing?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t stop to think, Miss Adelaide. I knew they were little rascals; +but I had a feeling that Laurens was too goody-goody, and that somehow or +other the two extremes would be equalized by setting them onto each +other.”</p> + +<p>“How dreadful! Mr. Bombs! And so you set your four little devils on to one +little angel, to overpower him? You must have known they would destroy +him!”</p> + +<p>“No! No! Miss Adelaide. I did not know that. I had the unwisdom and +rashness of youth. I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> only fifteen years old. I had a perfect passion +for pyro-spectacles. I had been brought up on them you know; and I had +faith in my inventions. They were intended to amuse, scare and mystify. I +had been taught early and late that danger gives zest to enjoyment. +Besides I had never known of anybody of consequence within my circle of +acquaintance, being killed by fireworks; and I was of the opinion that +they never would injure anybody except idiots, who deserved to be +injured.”</p> + +<p>“But you knew that Laurens Cornwallis was not an idiot, and that the boys +were reckless and the fireworks dangerous.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but Laurens had charge of them and he could have held up a score of +boys if he had known how to handle them.”</p> + +<p>“But you knew he did not know and the other boys did.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but I thought he ought to have known.”</p> + +<p>He saw the rising of an indignant flush in Adelaide’s face and added +quickly, “besides I intended to go back and see that no harm was done, +Miss Adelaide.”</p> + +<p>“Why did you not go?” inquired Adelaide shortly.</p> + +<p>“Your father claimed my services. First to help store away the surplus +stock I had brought with me. That done, we gave chase to some boys that +were making up the river with his boat. We headed them off. They got into +a panic, lost one oar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> and broke another, then went down over the falls +and were drowned. You heard about it did you not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but not much.”</p> + +<p>“Well, there wasn’t much said about it. They were of no account anyway. +They were a squad of tough boys that came up from the prolific French +settlement, to work their little game and see how much they could get out +of ‘old Schwarmer,’ as they called him. Of course the parents wouldn’t say +anything on account of the stealing of the boat, and probably they had +about fifteen other children and were glad to be rid of them. I shouldn’t +have remembered it had it not been for one little circumstance.”</p> + +<p>“What was that?” asked Adelaide breathlessly.</p> + +<p>“They were the boys I sent to Laurens Cornwallis for a division of +fireworks.”</p> + +<p>“And they killed him with the terrible things and were trying to make +their escape,” exclaimed Adelaide in dismay.</p> + +<p>“That’s the mystery, Miss Adelaide. They quarrelled with him, without a +doubt. The killing was most likely accidental. They had a hand in the +accident, probably, were frightened, ran to the river and took the boat to +make good their escape. Only God knows!”</p> + +<p>“And the parents thought father must have given him the fireworks. How +strange!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it was strange. Strange that all who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> knew anything about it should +have met a violent death. It looks as though Providence or whatever you +choose to call him, was on my side, doesn’t it, Miss Adelaide? But I did +not know your father was suspected. I regret that.”</p> + +<p>She did not reply. She was trying to analyze her feeling.</p> + +<p>“Non-plussed I see,” said Bombs. “Well I don’t wonder. I had something of +that feeling at first. Nobody could blame me but myself, because no living +person knew about it but myself. Now no one knows it but you and I; and I +am used to your blame; I rather enjoy it. In fact I like it so well that I +have come to ask you to marry me.”</p> + +<p>“But you would not marry me knowing that I would continue to blame +you—knowing that I would work against your business interests, Mr. +Bombs.”</p> + +<p>“I would marry you, knowing that you could not harm my adamantine +interests,” laughed Bombs. “It would take a hundred years of such gentle +leaven to affect them materially or immaterially and we shall both be in +heaven before that time, where everything is changed in the twinkling of +an eye and reforms if needed would not have to be worked out by the +tedious, sinuous and rather sour or unsavory processes of fermentation.”</p> + +<p>“But you would not marry me knowing that our thoughts, feelings and tastes +were entirely antagonistic—that I should strive with my whole might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> to +pull down the things you would build up? Impossible!”</p> + +<p>“I would marry you and love and admire you all the same, Adelaide. And I +would give you <i>carte blanche</i> out of the proceeds of my ‘<i>horrid</i>’ +inventions to use in your work of demolishing, reconstructing and +Christianizing.”</p> + +<p>“You are jesting, Mr. Bombs.”</p> + +<p>She broke off and rested her head on both hands. The old weariness had +come again, and more! Even the multiplicity of his adjectives affected +her. They tired her to death just as his Pyro-shows used to do—with their +flash after flash.</p> + +<p>“You are the same and yet you are not the same,” she added, arousing +herself and turning away from his glittering gaze with a gesture of +despair. “O why did you come back to torment my life?”</p> + +<p>He came swiftly to her side and whispered in her ear—<i>whispered</i>, +although he might have spoken aloud; for there was no one in the room and +no sleeping Adam anywhere among the shrubberies “I came to fulfill my +promise to your father and claim you for my wife.”</p> + +<p>She started from him as though bitten by a serpent, or rather as though +she had been mistaken for the original Eve and a real serpent had been +whispering in her ear.</p> + +<p>“Your wife!” Her face turned surface-red as though scorched with outside +flame. “Your wife,”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> she repeated, “and the elected burden-bearer of your +secret, sinful knowledge! I have never thought of being your wife and +never could be or should be, and father would not have insisted.”</p> + +<p>“Adelaide! Adelaide! You don’t know what you are saying. You will feel +differently after everything is proven and you have time to think it +over.”</p> + +<p>“Never! Mr. Bombs, never! I shall never think differently. Leave me! Go +out of my sight forever!”</p> + +<p>“Adelaide! Is it possible! Whatever I have been to others I have always +been honest with you.”</p> + +<p>“Honest? Yes! You tell me of your black and sinful deeds, then try to make +them look sinless and white. Leave me at once. Your presence is more than +I can endure.”</p> + +<p>She turned to an alcove in the far end of the room and stretching her arms +high above her head in agonized supplication, she added:</p> + +<p>“And thou Angelo Cornwallis! Beautiful spirit! be with me! Help me undo +the dreadful deeds that have been done in our midst; and when I have done +all I can at home, lead me on and on; for as it is here so it is elsewhere +all over God’s great world. The good and beautiful are being battered and +slain, that the coffers of the bad and beastly may be filled to +overflowing with gold!”</p> + +<p>The picture before which she stood was an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>artist’s realization of what +Laurens Angelo Cornwallis would have looked like, if he had lived to reach +man’s estate. It was a life-sized portrait of rare beauty and nobility +thrown out in strong relief from a bluish-black background of peculiar +make-up. Was it the work of Vassili Verestchagin and had her wish to see +him been granted, or failing to be granted had she taken him for her +spiritual teacher and inspirator and painted it herself?</p> + +<p>Alfonso Bombs looked in her direction and recognized both the portrait and +the significance of its setting—the marvelous whiteness, brightness and +angelic beauty of the one, and the mysterious darkness, luridity and +startling suggestiveness of the other—as though the artist had at the +last moment dipped his brushes in the paint pots of the Inferno for +characteristic colors with which to portray the dread and nameless shapes +that had threatened to destroy his fair creation.</p> + +<p>Feelings of jealousy, rage and resentment overwhelmed the spirit of +Alfonso Bombs as he looked at his unconscious paint and canvas rival and +detected in that hellish background unmistakable shadowings of himself; +but for the first time in his life he had no specious plea to make. He had +received his answer and the proof of its finality. He turned away with the +swift and subtle movement habitual to him and left the house and the town.</p> + + +<p> </p> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">The End.</span></p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Independence Day Horror at +Killsbury, by Asenath Carver Coolidge + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INDEPENDENCE DAY HORROR--KILLSBURY *** + +***** This file should be named 39479-h.htm or 39479-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/4/7/39479/ + +Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images +generously made available by The Internet Archive.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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