It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the
five minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there
remained only the noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained
perhaps by a possible pillow-fight, that kept the family below
partially awake until the bells and cannon made known the
dawning of the glorious day,­the sunrise, or "the rising of the
sons," as Mr.

Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their
friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities.

They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the
suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to
hang some flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little
boys knew of a place in the swamp where they had been in the
habit of digging for "flag-root," and where they might find plenty
of flag flowers. They did bring away all they could, but they were a
little out of bloom. The boys were in the midst of nailing up all
they had on the pillars of the piazza when the procession of the
Antiques and Horribles passed along. As the procession saw the
festive arrangements on the piazza, and the crowd of boys, who
cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house with some
especial strains of greeting.

Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a
few moments of quiet, during the boys' absence from the house on
their visit to the swamp, she had been trying to find out whether
she had a sick-headache, or whether it was all the noise, and she
was just deciding it was the sick headache, but was falling into a