"
Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew
how she got there.
Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused
the neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions
came on every side, and, though the sunset light had not faded
away, the little boys hastened to send off rockets under cover of
the confusion. Solomon John's other fireworks would not go. But
all felt he had done enough.
Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have
a headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off,
to see if it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the
adventures of the day, and almost thought it could not have been
worse if the boys had been allowed gunpowder. The distracted
lady was thankful there was likely to be but one Centennial Fourth
in her lifetime, and declared she should never more keep anything
in the house as dangerous as saltpetred beef, and she should never
venture to take another spoonful of potash.
THE PETERKINS' PICNIC. THERE was some doubt about the
weather. Solomon John looked at the "Probabilities;" there were
to be "areas" of rain in the New England States.
Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of
rain were to be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed
walking round the house in a procession, to examine the sky. As
they returned they met Ann Maria Bromwick, who was to go,
much surprised not to find them ready.
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