impressive than a vicarious share in the flag-raising.
Miss Dearborn was to be Columbia and the older girls of the two
schools were to be the States. Such trade in muslins and red,
white, and blue ribbons had never been known since "Watson kep'
store," and the number of brief white petticoats hanging out to
bleach would leave caused the passing stranger to imagine
Riverboro a continual dancing-school.
Juvenile virtue, both male and female, reached an almost
impossible height, for parents had only to lift a finger and say,
"You shan't go to the flag-raising!" and the refractory spirit at
once armed itself for new struggles toward the perfect life.
Mr. Jeremiah Cobb had consented to impersonate Uncle Sam, and was
to drive Columbia and the States to the "raising" on the top of
his own stage. Meantime the boys were drilling, the ladies were
cutting and basting and stitching, and the girls were sewing on
stars; for the starry part of the spangled banner was to remain
with each of them in turn until she had performed her share of
the work.
It was felt by one and all a fine and splendid service indeed to
help in the making of the flag, and if Rebecca was proud to be of
the chosen ones, so was her Aunt Jane Sawyer, who had taught her
all her delicate stitches.
On a long-looked-for afternoon in August the minister's wife
drove up to the brick-house door, and handed out the great piece
of bunting to Rebecca, who received it in her arms with as much
solemnity as if it had been a child awaiting baptismal rites.
"I'm so glad!" she sighed happily. "I thought it would never come
my turn!"
"You should have had it a week ago, but Huldah Meserve upset the
ink bottle over her star, and we had to baste on another one.