Bart Stirling's Road to Success - Or, The Young Express Agent by Allen [pseud.] Chapman
page 15 of 213 (07%)
page 15 of 213 (07%)
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There was not a boy in town who had not straddled the black ungainly
relic, or tried to lift the heavy cannon balls that symmetrically surrounded its base support. Two years before, Colonel Harrington had erected at his own expense a lofty flagpole at the side of the cannon and donated an elegant flag. Every Washington's Birthday and Fourth of July since, this site had been the center of all public patriotic festivities, and the headquarters for celebrating for juvenile Pleasantville. Bart was a little startled as he comprehended what was in the wind. He thrilled a trifle; his eyes sparkled brightly. "It's all right, Stirling," assured Dale Wacker. "We cleaned out the barrel and we've rammed home a good solid charge, with a long fuse ready to light. Guess it will stir up the sleepy old town for once, hey?" Bart was in for any harmless sport, yet he fumbled the lighted piece of punk undecidedly. "I don't know about this, fellows"--he began. "Oh! don't spoil the fun, Stirling," pleaded little Ned Sawyer, a rare favorite with Bart. "We asked one-legged Dacy on the quiet. He was in the war, and he says the gun can't burst, or anything." The crowd kept pushing Bart forward in eager excitement. "Why don't you light it yourself?" inquired Bart of Dale. |
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