MR. KIRBY'S PACKAGE
Mrs. Pepper, Carrie's mother, was very proud of her chickens. She spent
a good deal of time and money in caring for them, and they were seldom
allowed to stray from their own runs. But sometimes, as on an extremely
warm day, she would let them out for a change of scene, and it must be
stated that her neighbors did not like their subsequent behavior. Mrs.
Pepper's chickens visited all the gardens and scratched up neat lawns
and entered into battles with the dogs and cats who tried to argue the
right of way with them.
Now here was the pet, prize rooster of the Pepper flock, gravely
inspecting the sputtering firecracker Artie had thrown into the road.
"Go chase him!" Polly urged. "Chase him quick!"
Artie meant to be quick, but the fuse was short and just as he started
the rooster bent his head to peck at the fraying, reddening string. It
behaved, he probably thought, like some kind of worm.
Bang! Fire and smoke and a terrible noise overwhelmed the poor
rooster, and with a loud squawk he scuttled for the safety of his own
chickenyard.
"If my mother catches you throwing firecrackers at her chickens, she'll
tell your father, Artie Marley!" called Carrie Pepper, appearing around
a bush of the Larue place, a piece of lighted punk in her hand.
The Larues lived across the street from the Marleys and the Pepper
house and yard faced on another street. But the back yards of the Larue
and the Pepper places joined and most of the fences were hedge, so that
it was easy enough to go from one street to the other without going
around.
Artie, halted on his errand of mercy, looked as guilty as though he had
intentionally thrown the cracker at the rooster.
"He came after it!" he told Carrie lamely.
"Huh, I suppose he did--and you came down to meet him," Carrie retorted
disagreeably.
"Don't argue, Artie," Polly called in a low voice. "Come on back and
we'll do something else."
Carrie was fond of declaring that she couldn't "abide" the Riddle
Club--she didn't like any of the boys and girls who belonged to it.
And yet, strange to say, whatever they did or said had a tremendous
fascination for her. She wanted to be with them and listen to them.
"I'm waiting for Mattie Helms to come over," Carrie announced. "I'll
come over and sit on your steps, I guess. Are those all the fireworks
you have?"
"Well, ours burned up, you know," said Fred, trying hard to make his
voice sound pathetic. "Of course, we did the best we could, but we
couldn't buy so many things for to-night. Flower-pots and things like
that cost too much."
"Firecrackers are cheap, but they don't look pretty at night," Jess
observed, unconsciously helping Fred out.
"You ought to see what we're going to have to-night," said Carrie
complacently. "Red and green and yellow fire--pinwheels--sky
rockets--Roman candles. I guess you can see them from here. I have
invited all the Conundrum Club over to our house, or I'd ask you to
come over."
"Oh, we can see," Fred assured her.
"Don't you want to set off a snake?" said Polly quietly.
Carrie was as fond of "snakes" as Margy was, and she graciously
consented to touch off one of the silvery, wriggling things. Indeed, so
pleasant was this that she set off two more without further invitation.
Then she tried some of the "baby" firecrackers--setting off half a pack
at a time for the fun of seeing them sparkle and hiss--and she burned
a package of sparklers and used up a box of torpedoes, aiming at a
flower-pot.
"I guess I'll have to go around to Mattie's house and see why she
doesn't come," she said, when not another torpedo could she shake from
the box. "Don't forget to watch our things to-night."
When she was gone the Riddle Club looked at one another. Polly
snickered and Jess laughed outright. Ward and Artie fell into each
other's arms and rolled on the lawn, always an indication of their
delight.
"I don't think it's funny," Margy said. "She burned up three of my
snakes, and I have only four left."
"Take mine, Margy darling," offered the generous Polly. "I was the one
who asked her to do it. But I didn't know she would try everything we
had."
By afternoon, about everything in the first package had been fired off.
The lawn looked as though a small battle had been staged on it and
even Artie, most ardent of patriots, was ready to take kindly to the
idea of lunch, a bath, clean clothes and the "exercises" on the town
green.
Nearly every one in River Bend went to the Fourth of July exercises.
The band played patriotic airs, the Declaration of Independence was
read, and there were one or two speeches, followed by community singing.
"I wish it would hurry and get dark," said Ward, as the six chums
were walking home together after the singing. "It's such fun to have
fireworks that we don't know ourselves."
"You mean we don't know what they are," Fred replied. "Wouldn't it be a
joke if Mr. Kirby sent us candy fireworks or something like that?"
"He wouldn't," declared Polly. "He never plays that silly kind of
jokes."
"Here comes Miss Allen," Artie said quickly. "I wonder where she's
been; she always leads the singing at the exercises."
Miss Allen was the town nurse, and she smiled when she saw the children.
"You'll have to go and see Joe Anderson and try and cheer him up," she
said, putting down her black bag on the pavement and fanning herself
with her handkerchief. She had been walking fast and was warm.
"Is he sick?" asked Polly quickly.
"Oh, dear no, not sick! Didn't you hear?" Miss Allen returned. "His
pistol exploded--just before I was starting for the exercises--and he
has some painful powder burns."
"It won't kill him, will it?" Margy said fearfully, while the others
stared.
"Mercy no," the nurse answered vigorously. "He's lucky to get off as
lightly as he has, though. The pistol was old and a cheap affair,
and he should never have been allowed to touch it. His right hand is
burned, but not deeply. Doctor Mains says he'll be all right in a few
weeks."
She went on and the Riddle Club members continued their walk, a little
sobered by the news.
"Do you suppose Joe really did mean to set off the fireworks?" asked
Artie seriously.
"I do," Fred announced promptly. "But I don't see any sense in going
all around town, spouting that. I wouldn't be surprised to hear it was
a nice little plan, made up by some one who told him how to go about
it. Joe isn't very good when it comes to having ideas of his own."
"I'll bet he means Carrie Pepper suggested that," said Jess to herself.
But she forgot Carrie and the burned fireworks when they reached home
and found that Mrs. Williamson had invited the Riddle Club to a porch
supper. It was served on the big front porch and was exactly like a
picnic except, as Ward put it, you did not have to go anywhere.
"Where'll we set off our fireworks?" asked Fred, munching his fourth
peanut butter sandwich.
"Can we start as soon as it is dark?" Artie wanted to know.
"We want to start early, because we have to go to bed early," declared
Polly. "Mother says we want to get a good early start in the morning."
Margy gave a wriggle of pure delight.
"Isn't it fun!" she sighed. "We have fireworks to-night and in the
morning we are going to Sunrise Beach and this minute we're going to
have ice-cream!"
They all laughed at her summing up, but the red, white and blue
ice-cream was hailed with a cheer.
It obligingly grew dark as rapidly as possible, and it was decided that
the Larue lawn was the best for the fireworks. The mothers were to be
the guests of honor and sit on the porch while the three fathers and
the children would set off the contents of Mr. Kirby's package.
"There goes a Roman candle!" cried Ward, as one shot up from the dark
tree tops that enclosed the Pepper yard.
There was a great hubbub of laughter and talk from the Pepper side
porch, where the fourteen members of the Conundrum Club were gathered.
They did not seem to be agreeing either, for several voices were
arguing loudly that "it's my turn"--"you've had yours"--"you said it
was my turn next."
But the Riddle Club forgot to listen when they began their own
entertainment. Only one package of the many arranged neatly in the
large box Mr. Kirby had sent was labeled. This bore a small card which
said, "Set this off when everything else is gone."
"What _do_ you suppose it can be?" the curious Margy speculated,
holding it up to her ear and shaking it as if she hoped to detect it by
this action.
"I don't know. Whoopee, look at the pin-wheel!" Jess cried joyously.
There surely had never been such a box of fireworks. Not in River
Bend, at least. There were little tiny flat packages that flared into
beautiful geometrical figures that spun and whirled and dazzled for
long, breath-taking seconds. There were pieces that folded into a tiny
space and yet which, when sent up, proved to be large and elaborate and
quite beyond the power of any one to name. The Roman candles shot up to
the stars--Polly was positive. The colored fire made the yard a place
for fairies. They had never seen such fireworks, the Riddle Club were
sure.
"My goodness, how long have you been shooting off things?" demanded
Carrie Pepper suddenly, out of the darkness. "Did you see ours? We're
all through and we were going in when we saw one of your rockets. Where
did you get 'em? I thought you only had a few things."
"Come up on the steps, Carrie," Mrs. Larue called pleasantly. "Mr.
Kirby sent the children a box of fireworks. Don't you want to stay and
see? We must be nearly through, too."
"Seven more left!" announced Fred triumphantly. "Not counting the
surprise."
That settled Carrie. If there was a surprise, she meant to see it.
Followed by the thirteen other members of the Conundrum Club, she
settled down on the steps of the porch and watched critically.
"Oh! Ah!" said every one, as a flower-pot of great brilliancy and
wonderful color spread out before their eyes.
"Oh! Ah!" they said for each successive piece, and the Conundrum Club
joined in the chorus of admiration.
"What is the surprise?" Carrie whispered to Polly, as she dashed up to
get a new piece of punk.
"I don't know--none of us does," said Polly. "Fred is going to touch it
off after we light this next piece."
Fred's hand trembled a little as he put the last piece in position and
lit it. Then he stepped back and joined the others on the porch. They
held their breaths for a few minutes and then----
"Well, what do you know about that?" shouted Ward Larue, in amazement.