The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-06-28
THE FOURTH.
written for the IndianapoIis journal,

Written for the indianapolis journal.
The village boys are putting their heads to-
gether like calves getting ready for the Fourth.
The farm boys are working in the field, and
think it ''derned' mean, using the word "dern"
in its antique sense of lonesome. Their mother
makes them take along bucket and pick ber-
ries in the fence corners. They can't find any
till the farmer comes along and shows them
plenty On the night before the Fourth they
fire off cannon at the Corners until morning,
and then go to the village without any sleep.
One of the boys must stay at home part of the
morning, to help with the chores, but he climbs
to the gable of the barn. where the swallows are
wing1ng round and round under the roof, and
peeps out on the million myrtled" green land
scape to see puff of smoke from the village.
AT the village is a show of militia and fremen,
with speeches. lemonade and cake, and at night
bonfire and fireworks made principally of
balls of candle-wick dipped in turpentine, and
flung lighted into the air. When the BOYS come
leave the candle burning, and the hired man,
frightfully Disguised has to get up and blow it
out. The hired man and the hired girl want to
60 to the Fourth. II want to go somers," says
the hired girl MY patience is wore out l
have the horrors" She belongs to the perpen-
dicular gothic order of architecture, and is one
of the homely girls who have to do the worlds
work because they can do nothing else.
She works cheerfully, even on those
occasions when other women do not, viz:
early in the morning, and when she comes home
from anywhere, and when the work is hard.
STILL long continued home-staying will make
her as grouty as grout ITSELF grout being sub
stance made of gravel and lime. Therefore, on
the morning of the Fourth the farmer says, II
guess I'll let the tail go with the hide, you can
both go to the Fourth" The hired man makes
two jokes at breakfast after that, which the
hired girl does not laugh at; when her temper is
raspy he is rasped by it.
MY pancakes amt right, this morning." she
signs.
Il see they amt says he.
They're good enough for you," says She
1.-The cookies is scorched, too says he
Them cookies did not make" says she.
"Thems the best | ever see, says he.
You must have been reading in cross-eyed
James and one eyed John, overnight" says she.
she dishes him out a saucer of oatmeal and
mo you DON'T You don't get none of that
poultice on me this morning" says he.
"Poultice Get out! Poultice yourself!n
says she.
II jimmy, you're cross" says he
They, go to the Fourth, and enjoy it. They
know the intense joy of strong bodily frame.
The Fourth in town Is a day of luxurious quiet
in the midst of explosive noise. What
luxury the night before the
Fourth. to sit up until the pistols begin
to pop reading new twenty-cent novel, one
of two or three bought FOR the occasion-a story
about the interestingly contemplate people of
Henry James, or about the gloomy personages
of Charles Reade or the gentle ones of Walter
Besant In the morning, what pleasure to sleep
late, doing between explosions of crackers and
torpedoes, and, after breakfast, what pleasant
saunter to the newsstand to buy more news
papers than you need On this saunter you see the
street-boys shooting off anything they can get
hold of. The well-todo workmen, we'll dressed,
and walking, each with his Oldest boy
by the hand; then, there are 1.-The aristocrats
of a summer afternoon" working boys and girls
in livery rigs. There are families 60
ing out to spend the day, other families lounging
in porches and hammocks girls in muslins and
fresh ribbons, and, over everything a pleasing
halo of gunpowder smoke. There is also she
of the greasy apron and sunburnt arms hanging
over her gate, as on every day of the year, while
her chlldrens hands are in the sugar bowl and her
house smells like distillery of some sort. She
is always an interesting object So are the
corner politicians worrying because we are drift
ing into arnica, which they ought to know will
cure the sores on the body polite.
The shooting off of seventeen packs
of fire crackers brings around dinner time, with
hot corn. buttered to run down your wrists, and
July vegetables, with dessert of fruits and
cakes that makes the table look like chrome
and, perhaps a few friends. The day ends with
the sending up of rockets and Roman candles
enough to produce frantic rapture in the chill
dren's breasts. Thus VIC celebrate our tran
scendent governments birth-our government
whose one great merit is that it leaves us alone
to be happy as we like. MARY DEAN.