Aunt Stanshy was now returning from her visit, having concluded to make an
early start for home, feeling somewhat anxious for its safety on "the
glorious Fourth." The club separated into two ranks, and, as Aunt Stanshy
passed along, each one of the "knights" touched his feathery head-gear,
while every horn sent out as ringing a blast as possible.

"Massy!" cried Aunt Stanshy. "My ears!" Then she retreated to her home as
quickly as possible lest another salute be tendered her.

What a day that was! What liberty! It seemed as if those patriots in the
Up-the-Ladder Club had been oppressed by a terrible yoke of bondage,
domestic especially, but it was all lifted and thrown off that day. There
was freedom--to blow horns, freedom to fire crackers, freedom to "holler,"
freedom to crack torpedoes, freedom to buy pea-nuts, buns, ancient figs
and dates and abominable cheap candy, freedom to make one's self as dirty,
tired--and cross the next day--as possible! O, blessed liberty to boys who
had patiently borne the yoke three hundred and sixty-four days, ever since
the last Fourth! After a forenoon of miscellaneous and multiplied joys,
the club planned to spend an afternoon in the woods. Emptying their
pockets, they found that, altogether, they could raise eleven cents, and
this was laid out in the judicious expenditure of as many buns as
possible.

"It is proposed, White Shields," said Sid, "this afternoon that we spend a
little time playing, a little time in bun-lunching, and then we will have
a raft-race on the water near the railroad track."

This programme was carried out in part successfully. The games concluded
with success, there was a successful time in eating, as far as the number