This was his pet name for King, and the boy replied: 

“There’s fun enough here, Cousin Jack, if you make it yourself.”

“That’s so, is it?  Well, I guess I’ll try to make some.  Let’s see, isn’t Fourth of July next week?”

“Yes, it is,” said Marjorie.  “Next week, Wednesday.”

“Well, that’s a good day to have fun; and an especially good day for a racket.  What shall we do, kiddies?”

“Do you mean for us to choose?” asked Marjorie.

“No, Mehitabel; you suggest, and I’ll choose.  You think of the very nicest sort of celebrations you know, and I’ll select the nicest of them all.”

“Well,” said Midget, thoughtfully, “there’s a party or a picnic.  How many people do you mean, Cousin Jack?  And do you mean children or grown-ups?”

“Now I feel aggrieved, and insulted, and chagrined, and many other awful things!” Cousin Jack looked so woe-begone that they almost thought him in earnest.  “You know, Mehitabel, that I’m but a child myself!  I’m not a grown-up, and I never will be!”

“That’s so!” laughed his wife.

“And so, us children will have a celebration of the children, for the children, and by the children!  How many perfectly good children do you know down here?”

“Not many,” said King; “hardly any, in fact, except the Sand Club.”

“The Sand Club!  That sounds interesting.  Tell me about it.”

So King and Marjorie told all about the Sand Club and its six members, and Cousin Jack declared that was just enough for his idea of a Fourth of July celebration.

“Now for the plan,” he went on.  “How about a picnic in the woods, which I see sticking up over there, and then come back to Bryant Bower for some fireworks later?”

“I think that sounds beautiful!” said Marjorie, and King entirely agreed.

“Why not have the fireworks here?” said Mr. Maynard.  “You’re too good to these children, Jack.”

“Not a bit of it.  We can have a celebration here some other night.  But I’ve picked out the glorious Fourth for my own little racketty-packetty party.  You see, on that day we can make all the noise we like and not get arrested.”

“Can we dress up, Cousin Jack?” asked Marjorie.

“Sure, child; wear your best bib and tucker, if you like, but I like you better in your play-clothes.”

“I don’t mean that.  I mean costumes.”

“Midget is great for dressing up,” explained King.  “She always wants some cheesecloth wobbed around her, and veils and feathers on her head.”

“Oh, I see!  Why, yes, I rather guess we can dress up.”

“I’ll wear a red, white, and blue sash, and a liberty cap,” said Midget, her eyes dancing.

“Oh, we can do better than that,” responded Cousin Jack.  “Let’s see; we’ll make it a sort of reception affair, and you, Mehitabel, can be the Goddess of Liberty, or Miss Columbia, whichever you like.  Hezekiah, you can be Uncle Sam!  Your respected Cousin Ethel and I will guarantee your costume.”