“You see, boys,” said Sid, patronizingly, “I don’t know what would have become of you if it hadn’t been for me.  My big brother Nehemiah was out banging away all night, and he got tired and came home about three, and said to me, ’You in bed now?  I thought you were going to get up several hours earlier than the lark.’  Well—­after a while—­I dressed quick, I tell you, and then I went and woke our governor, and Billy, and so on.”

Sid omitted to say how long that “after a while” might be, and that his brother aroused him several times, and finally he got into his clothes.  Nobody, however, was disposed to ask questions, as every one had slept later than he intended.

“Knights of the White Shield!” suddenly shouted Sid, “three good ringers on your bugles for our honorary member, Miss Stanshy Macomber?  Here she comes!”

Aunt Stanshy was now returning from her visit, having concluded to make an early start for home, feeling somewhat anxious for its safety on “the glorious Fourth.”  The club separated into two ranks, and, as Aunt Stanshy passed along, each one of the “knights” touched his feathery head-gear, while every horn sent out as ringing a blast as possible.

“Massy!” cried Aunt Stanshy.  “My ears!” Then she retreated to her home as quickly as possible lest another salute be tendered her.

What a day that was!  What liberty!  It seemed as if those patriots in the Up-the-Ladder Club had been oppressed by a terrible yoke of bondage, domestic especially, but it was all lifted and thrown off that day.  There was freedom—­to blow horns, freedom to fire crackers, freedom to “holler,” freedom to crack torpedoes, freedom to buy pea-nuts, buns, ancient figs and dates and abominable cheap candy, freedom to make one’s self as dirty, tired—­and cross the next day—­as possible!  O, blessed liberty to boys who had patiently borne the yoke three hundred and sixty-four days, ever since the last Fourth!  After a forenoon of miscellaneous and multiplied joys, the club planned to spend an afternoon in the woods.  Emptying their pockets, they found that, altogether, they could raise eleven cents, and this was laid out in the judicious expenditure of as many buns as possible.

“It is proposed, White Shields,” said Sid, “this afternoon that we spend a little time playing, a little time in bun-lunching, and then we will have a raft-race on the water near the railroad track.”

This programme was carried out in part successfully.  The games concluded with success, there was a successful time in eating, as far as the number of buns would permit.  Then there was a little speech-making.

“I understand,” said the president, as he concluded his remarks, “that the rights of one of our number have been interfered with.  He has been forbidden to fire off any more crackers, and must confine himself to caps.”

This announcement was followed by groans and hisses, even as thunder and lightning come after the black summer cloud.  The person who had lost his freedom and been compelled to return to slavery was Charlie.