SAMMY'S FOURTH OF JULY
The next day Sammy sat on a bench on the cottage stoop, apparently very
intent on a perusal of the Farmer's Almanac, but it was evident his
thoughts were somewhere else.
"What in nater is the boy a-doin'?" asked his mother, looking up from a
pile of stockings she was mending. "If he ain't twisting up thet
Almanac as if 'twasn't any more than a piece of brown paper. What are
you thinking about, Sammy?"
"Thursday is Fourth o' July," answered her son.
"Well, what if it is? I'm sure I'm willing."
"They are going to have great doings down to Springfield," added Sammy.
"Is that so? I hope they enjoy themselves. But it ain't anything to me
as I know on."
"I want to go down an' see the celebration," said Sammy, mustering up
his courage to give utterance to so daring a proposition.
"Want to see the Fourth o' July in Springfield?" ejaculated his mother.
"Is the boy crazy? Ain't it the Fourth o' July here as well as there,
I'd like to know?"
"Well, I suppose it is, but I never was in Springfield, an' I want to
go. They've got a lot o' shows there, an' I'm bound to see some of
'em."
"Sammy," said his mother, solemnly, "it would be the ruination of you;
you'd git shot, or something wuss. You ain't nuthin' but a boy, an'
couldn't be trusted nohow."
"Ain't I fourteen, an' ain't I 'most six feet high?" answered back
Sammy, defiantly. "An' didn't Dick Slade, who is only thirteen, go down
last Fourth an' have a smashin' good time an' not git hurt?"
"But you ain't got no experience, Sammy."
"I've got enough to go to Springfield."
"No, you had better give up the notion."
"Now, mother, don't say that!" pleaded the son.
"But I do say it."
"Well, then I'm going to--to run away! I'll go to sea an' be a sailor,
or sumthin'!" burst out Sammy, recklessly. "I'm sick o' workin' every
single day!"
"Stop talking in that dreadful way, Sammy!" said Mrs. Borden,
anxiously.
"Then you ask paw to let me go."
"'Twon't do no good."
"Yes, it will. You ask him, won't you?" pleaded the son.
At last Mrs. Borden consented and spoke to her husband about it during
the dinner hour. Jerry Borden shook his head.
"He can't go--it's sheer foolishness," he said.
"If you don't let him go I'm afraid he will run away," said the wife.
"He has his heart set on going." Sammy was out of the room at the time,
so he could not hear the talk.
At first Mr. Borden would not listen, but at last he gave in, although
he added grimly that he thought running away would do Sammy a world of
good.
"He'd be mighty glad to sneak back afore a week was up," he said.
When Sammy realized that he was really to go to the city he was wild
with delight, and rushed down into the hayfield to tell Randy of his
plans.
"I'm a-goin' to have a highfalutin' time," he said. "Just you wait
until I come back an' tell about it."
"I hope you do have a good time," answered our hero, "and don't get
hurt."
"There won't nothin' happen to me," answered Sammy, confidently.
Early on the morning of Independence Day Sammy stood at the door of the
farmhouse arrayed in his Sunday best. His folks were there to see him
off.
"My son," said Mr. Borden, "don't ye be wasteful o' your money, an'
don't git in no scrapes."
"An' remember, Sammy, to keep all the Commandments," added his mother,
as she kissed him tenderly.
Soon he was off, down the side road towards the highway, where the
stage passed that ran to the railroad station. His walk took him by the
Thompson cottage. Randy was at home and fixing up the garden.
"I'm off!" yelled Sammy, waving his hand.
"Good luck!" cried Randy, pleasantly. "Don't get your head shot off."
"He may lose his head without having it shot off," remarked Mr.
Thompson, who sat on the porch, with his rheumatic side in the
sunshine.
"I do not think it very wise to let him go to the city alone," put in
Mrs. Thompson from the kitchen.
Sammy tramped on until he came to the main highway and there waited
impatiently for the stage to appear. He got a seat by the driver, and
in less than an hour reached the railroad station. He had been on the
cars before, yet the ride was much of a novelty.
At last the country boy found himself on the streets of Springfield.
There was an extra celebration of some sort going on and great crowds
flocked on every side. Poor Sammy was completely bewildered, as he was
jostled first one way and then another.
"Well, by gosh! If this don't beat anything I ever see!" he ejaculated.
"Where in thunder did all the folks come from, anyway?"
Sammy looked so truly rural that he attracted the attention of two
street urchins who were standing close by.
"There's a greeny, I'll bet a hat!" said one of them, nudging his
companion.
"A regular one and no mistake," answered the second urchin.
"Let's have a little fun out of him."
"How?"
"Just look and you'll see how I fix him."
So speaking, he took a bunch of firecrackers from his pocket and, with
a pin, attached it to the tail of Sammy's coat. Then he set the bunch
on fire and slipped back into the crowd.
Crack! Crack! Bang!
The plot took effect. Sammy was aroused from his reverie by explosion
after explosion in his immediate rear. He started and leaped into the
air in wild amazement.
"By thunder!" he gasped. "Is thet a cannon bustin'?"
The crackers continued to go off, and poor Sammy leaped around worse
than ever.
"Say, mister, what's up?" he asked of a man who was laughing loudly.
"Look behind you," answered the man.
Sammy did so. One look was enough. He began to bellow like a bull and
started off on a run, knocking down several people who happened to be
in his way. At last a police officer stopped him.
"What do you mean by making such a disturbance?" demanded the officer.
"I'm burning up! I'm exploding! Don't you hear me?" gasped poor Sammy.
"Pooh! It's only fire-crackers," and the policeman smiled faintly.
"Take 'em off, mister, please do!" pleaded Sammy. "I'll give you ten
cents for the job!"
"They are about burned out," answered the officer, as the last
firecracker went off with an extra loud bang. "You are safe. Go along
with you." And he waved his stick. Sammy lost no time in sneaking off.
The boy who had played the trick had a good laugh and so did his
companion.
Soon Sammy heard a band and saw some "Milingtary," as he called them,
approaching. The sight of the soldiers with their guns awed him, yet he
followed the procession to a grove, where there was more music and also
speechmaking. He listened to the orations with wide-open mouth, until
he suddenly lost interest when a bit of banana skin was thrown at him,
landing directly in the opening.
"Wah!" he spluttered. "Who threw thet skin at me?"
He could not find the offender and so roamed around the grove,
presently halting before a temporary stand filled with things to eat.
He now discovered that he was tremendously hungry.
"Snathers take the expense," he muttered to himself. "I'm a-goin' to
have something to eat if it breaks me." He had brought along a lunch
from home, but had forgotten it on the train.
He approached the stand and looked the stock of eatables over.
"What's the price o' them bananas, mister?" he asked.
"Two cents each."
"Well, I suppose if I take two you'll let me have 'em fer three cents."
"Couldn't do it."
"Well, who cares, anyway? It's only four cents. Let me have two."
The bananas were handed over and Sammy looked for his change. But he
only had two cents and a one-dollar bill.
"Can you change that?" he asked, holding out the bill.
"Certainly," answered the standkeeper, and promptly gave the youth a
fifty-cent piece and a lot of small change. With his bananas in one
hand and his money in another Sammy retired to a distance, to count his
change and make sure it was right.
While he was buying the fruit a boy in tatters watched him eagerly. Now
the boy came up to the country lad.
"Please, mister, won't you give me some money to buy bread with?" he
asked, in a quivering voice.
"To buy bread with?" asked Sammy, in astonishment.
"Yes, please--I'm awful hungry."
"Ain't you had nuthin' to eat to-day?"
"Not a mouthful."
Sammy's compassion was aroused and he began to look over his change.
"Look out for that!" cried the tattered boy, looking upward suddenly.
Sammy's gaze traveled in the same direction. As his eyes went up the
boy in rags grabbed the money in his hand and in an instant was making
off through the crowd.
The movement was so quick, and the surprise so great, that for the
moment Sammy was bereft of speech.
At length he recovered sufficiently to shout the single word at the top
of his lungs:
"Constable!"
"What's the matter?" asked a policeman, running up.
"Thief! Robbery!"
"Where is the thief?"
"He ran off."
"Where? In what direction?"
"I--er--I don't know," stammered Sammy.
"What did he take?"
"Took all my money."
"How much?"
"Ninety-six cents. It ain't all--I've got two cents left."
"Well, if you can point out the thief I'll arrest him," said the
policeman. "Come, we'll take a look around."
This was done, but the boy in rags could not be found.
"Drat the luck! I suppose the money is gone fer good!" groaned Sammy,
and he was right. For he never saw either the boy or his cash again.
Sammy had expected to remain in the evening and see the fire-works, but
now his interest in the celebration was gone.
"Hain't got but two cents left!" he groaned. "Thet won't buy no supper
nor nuthin! It's lucky I've got a train ticket back. But I'll have to
walk to hum from the station, unless they'll tick me fer the stage
ride."
He walked around, still hoping to meet the lad who had robbed him. His
perambulations presently brought him to a spot where there was a pond
of water, in which some gold-fish were swimming. The gold-fish caught
his eye and he paused to watch them as they darted about.
He was leaning over, looking into the pond, when some boys came along
on a run. One boy shoved another and he fell up against Sammy. As a
consequence the country lad lost his balance and went into the pond
with a loud splash.
"Save me!" he spluttered. "I can't swim!"
"Wade out; it's only up to your middle!" sang out a man, and arising,
Sammy did as directed. He was covered with mud and slime and presented
anything but a nice appearance.
"This is the wust yet!" he muttered, and felt half like crying. "I
ain't going to stay here no more--I'm goin' straight fer hum!"