cast the most admiring glances on the broad green lawns and bubbling
fountain, of which he caught; glimpses from the road. Often he had stood
outside, at the great gate, and fairly _longed_ for a nearer view of that
same fountain; for the truth was, though he was such a rough,
mischief-making,--yes, a _wicked_ boy, down in his heart he had a great
love for beautiful things.

On this Fourth of July morning, Tip was up and abroad very early. He held
a horse, which had been so frightened by fire-crackers that it wouldn't
stand still a minute, and the owner of it gave him ten cents, with which
he immediately bought fire-crackers for himself, and frightened the very
next horse he saw. When the great cannon on the hill was fired, he got in
the way, just as much as he knew how, which was a great deal; he
contrived to be around when the largest bell was rung, and add his voice
to the uproar among the boys who were gathered around the church doors;
indeed, wherever there was commotion or confusion, Tip managed very soon
to be, and to do his part towards making the most of it.

About ten o'clock he had lived out the most of his pleasures, having been
on hand since a little after three. He had no more money to spend, saw no
chance of getting any more; he had had no breakfast, and was very much in
doubt as to whether he would get any, if he took the trouble to go home;
he had some way lost track of all his companions; and, altogether, he was
beginning to feel as if the Fourth of July were a humbug. He felt
ill-used, angry; it seemed to him that he was being cheated out of a good
time that he expected to have. He sat down on the edge of an old
sugar-barrel and thought about it a while; then finally, with his hands
in his pockets, and whistling "Yankee Doodle" in honour of the day, he
sauntered along the street in search of something to take up his time.