Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 24, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 July 1889 — A FOURTH OF JULY PICNIC. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A FOURTH OF JULY PICNIC.

BY MRS. M. L. RAYNE.

"IBLS,” called Mrs. Weatherby. “your father is at the door with the carry-all. Hurry up, now. Where’s George Washington ?” “He’s learning his piece, ' ma ; he’s just betn saying it over, and it’s splendid. He’s most ready.” “ Well, we can’t wait, ’cause Jim has gone on with the provisions for the whole lot; he’s taken the croquet set and the bean

pitch-board, and is goiug to find a place where our folks can have it all to themselves.” By this time the girls had come down, dressed inwhitecross-barredmuslins, because, as one of them economically remarked, “White will wash and colors run.” George Washington’s voice could still be heard

up-sl airs reciting the patriotic speech which was to delight the souls of the Pi;mi kin villa folks at the picnic. His mother waited as locg as she could, then she called him in a voice that admitted of no further delay, and he came down stairs ha!ited in plaid trousers and a long linen dbsttr, through which a pair of blue suspenders—embroidered for him by Swclie Sunglittle were plainly discernible. He carried tile manuscript of his .Fourth of July oration in one of the deep pock-

ets of the duster. “Pile in,” said Mr. Weatherly, cheerfully, as he held the horse, that wouldn’t have run away at a dynamite explosion, not being that kind of an animal; “it’s going to be real Fourth of July weather. I reckon Jim’s tired wailin’, and the rest of the folks’ll think we ain't a cornin'.” They piled in, George and the girls on the back seat, while Mrs. Weatherly sat with “fath-

er” and helped drive. George gave them a specimen of what he could do in the wav of orating, and they had scon covered the fivei miles at the eud of which they were to find the picnic grounds. Jim, the hired man, who

was a genius in his way, was to provide a code

of signals by which they would know where the general camping grounds wera situated. ’’This Is the right turn. I’ll Jbet a said Mr. Weatherby, reining in his .-ry-all

steed, “but what’s them notices stuck up there? I am’t mver seen any of them in these pa'rts a ore." “17! bet ’squire Ford put them up to prevent folks from coming here,” said George; “if it ain’t mean of him."

“I’m a goin’ in, all the same." said Mr. Weatherby. “There's a lotuer. What’s that, girls? I can’t see quite char." “Oh, mercy,” cried the girls in concert, “there’s a dog barking. Just listen !" Sure enough, a deep, hoarse barking could be

heard far in on the roa 1 tin y ta 1 furred on. “It’s Squire Ford's v hi‘e bull' dog, 111 bet,” raid George. “I wish I hal my rifle; I’d pepper him.” ■Here's the Snuglittle team,” said Pet Weatherby; “and there's fa tie and the rest. Oh. girls, we re lost. We daren tgo up this road. Isn’t i; a shame?”

“Who’s lafraid?” asked George, wiih the air

that becomes a Fourth of July orator. “Come on; I’ll lead the way. This is a free country. Gimme liberty or gimme death.” “Bow-wow-ow-w," came in deep chest tones from the green Jglade |up the leafy.'retreat, and Mrs. Weatherby at once seized the reins and began to turn old Sorrel around. “I ain’t agoin to furnish meat for 'Squire Ford's dog,” she said, and the others seemed quite as willing to go. Another party was waiting for them on the main road, and there they took counsel and decided that Jim must be some miles further on, where another campus was known to be among the trees. So they rode

three miles further looking for Jim. But no Jim was to be seen. They found the large grass plat, and picketed their horses about the inclosure, hoping that since they could not come to Jim that Jim would come to them. It was rather a serious matter, for the six families who had now joined them bad sent their provisions over to the Weatherby’s for safe transportation

by Jim, who had the commissary stores for the day. No one doubted the integrity' of Jim, but all wondered without avail what had become of him—and the lemonade and the pies and cakes and substantiala. “Mr. George Weatherby, speech, speech,” called Deacon Snugliotle. “You have taken me by surprise, Deacon,” said George in an off-hand manner, feeling for his speech in his coat tail pocket. Then he took out his patriotic address and ran his eyes over it. while the girls giggled and Sadie Suuglittle whispered. “Isn’t he grand?” George was soon embarked on the full tide of eloquence and was frequently interrupted by chetrs. When he loudly demanded, “Who gave U 3 the Fourth of July?” there was a perfect thunder of applause. “Answer thee queshion,” said Deacon Snuglittle, lisiug to his feet and pointing a long lean forefinger at five or six small hoys vho were grouped on the grass open-mouthed a id openeyed. There was a long silence, then a small voice piped: “God." “Henry Clay%” called another. “Daniel Webster..’’ “Gen. Grant.” — — “I-inkum.” “George Washington.” Three cheers and a stave of the “Star-spangle d Banner.’’ •

The orator ‘was very warm and much flushed. He took up his interrupted theme, and when he reached the pororatiou, “the bird of freedom scars above in the empyrean of the new world aed proudly ’’ he fell over backward out of the wagon seat, and turned a somersault not do wn on the programme. The treacherous wagon-sent

had slipped and unbased him. But the cheers he received were a salve to his wounded pride and barked shins, and the speech was voted a great success. Then a small fcov was dragged forward and desired to rrcite something patriotic aud couldn t think of anything for some time. Then, while all eyes were upon him, he scraped a foot, made a lurch forward, and, conscious of the maternal presence, began :

“ Whatisthisgloriousflaglseo Itisthefiagofliberty Its hues allw armandbiightly blue It i sthebaunerof t bet ru e Audonthisdaywecelebrate—w ecelebrate w ecelcbia:e ” Fortunately for that boy there vas an interruption which almost amounted to a panic. Jim came galloping into the campus on the farm

-horse, gasping, “Wha—wha—wha!’.’

“Are the Indians coming?” shrieked Mrs. Weatherby. “ B-b-be calm 1” suggested the Deacon ; “sp-eak —out—man!” “Wha-what did you come here fur?” gasped Jim, when he got liis breath; “didn't ye see all them signs I made to show-ye where I wuz. Didn’t I bark like a dog for one straight hour ? I just think it’s all-fired mean to treat a fellow like thet an’ the tables all sot with the vittles toe."’ When it dawned upon them what Jim meant they set up a shout that could have been heard

-for a mile and began to get their things in order for an exodus from their present quarters. They followed Jim back and found the green glade laid out like a park, with a vast dining-hall in the center. The simple fellow had never once thought that his “signs” which he had gotten

up with so much care independence day. might cause a stampede. As it was they had a glorious Xftiirth.

FRIENDS AND FELLOWCITIZENS!

THIS GALORIOUS DAY.

THE DAY WE CELEBRATE.

BEWARE. THE DOG.

OH. SAY! DID YOU SEE!