The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1901-06-28
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The boys had planned such a particu-
larly jolly Fourth that when Mrs. Rey-
nolds became so i'll on the very morning
of the Sd and the doctor sternly announc-
ed if a frecracker exploded within a
mile of the house the boy who shot it off
would be guilty Of murder there was
wrathful indignation in the breasts Of
the junior patriots.
Say, fellows, what do you think Of it
anyway" demanded Ned Thursby in a
tone of fierce display.
Think of it' exclaimed Sam Prem
tice, shaking his fist at the cloud of dust
which enveloped the doctors antiquated
gig II think it's a mean shame"
What are We going to do with our
firecrackers, I'd like to know" VIII
Brown asked angrily, "and the skyrock-
cts and Roman candles and the cannon|
plague take it, anyway" scowled Jack
Loring, hitting the tree against which
he was leaning a blow with his clinched
hand. I'VE might just as well have
stayed in the city"
81 tell you what. fellows" interrupted
Ned Il wouldn't mind so much spelling
the Fourth if it was only Mrs. Sawyer,
or any of our mothers, or Miss Hattie
or Miss Isabel, but every kid knows what
Mrs. Reynolds is. l don't believe she's
sick at all"
"Nor l." added Jack impressively.
"She's just done it to keep us from hav-
ing a good time Don't you remember
last summer how she spoilt the yacht
race by tumbling into the river and
splashing the sailsY"
Il wish your Uncle George was here
now He'd tell us what to do, for don't
think that other George, the father Of
his country, cares the least bit that his
little boys can't have rockets and fire.
crackers and Will lay down upon the
grass and pounded the soft turf with his
vigorous heels.
"Of course he doesn't" agreed Sam
mournfully, 'or he wouldn't have let it
happen. think he's a mighty mean
father, that's what | think"
'Oh, perhaps it'sebecause he's been a
man for such years and years that he's
forgotten all about chopping the cherry
tree and being a little boy himself" ex-
planned Ned magnanimously.
81 say, fellows" Jack began excitedly.
II bet you George Washington will help
us yet. Isn't he the father of his cOun'
try and wouldn't my father or Ned's faith
er or any of our fathers hate to have ne
lose a good time? tell you, George
Washington cares as much about 1t as
they do, and I'm going to write to him
and tell him that we can't shoot off any
or cannons or rockets or tor
pedoes or do anything at all to give him
a rousing send-off, just because an old
woman says she's dying
II don't believe George Washington
cares anything about u.s." Sam interpos-
ed gruffiy.
"I don't believe he does, either" sup
plemented viii.
well" said Jack, II intend to write
him regular letter and tell him just
how it is. l thought I'd say that we
came all the way from Chicago to shoot
off a cannon for him on the Fourth Of
July, and didn't he feel sorry we couldn't
do it, because Mrs. Reynolds went and
got sick at the last moment and the doc
tor said we'd be hanged If we did. And
then I'd say 'Good-by, from your sorrow
ful little boys, Jack and Ned and Sam
and WILL"
Even if we did write to him, Aow
could we send it, I'd like to knOw?' ask
ed Sam.
The question was bombshell. It stag
gered Jack.
Il don't know" he answered blankly.
II never thought about it, but, say! l
have it. We'll tack the letter on the
cherry tree in the back yard, and when
he comes around at night to cut 1t down
with his little hatchet he'll find it and
read it and"
How do you know he'll come around
10 cut it DOWN." interrupted VIII.
How do l know it? Because every
Fourth OF July he's a little boy again,
rou ninny, and, of course, he'll want to
lse his little hatchet. Hurrah for George
and the enthusiastic
spokesman tumbled off the fence in his
Efforts to wake the country echoes.
-Four pairs Of sturdy legs dashed along
he road with lightning speed and moth
ng remained of the mornings conclave
but a battered rail and a cloud Of dust.
The blotted paper tackled so conspicuously
TO the bark Of the cherry tree was pa