our fortunes, and our sacred
honor."

"We are all blown up, as I feared we should be," Mrs. Peterkin at
length ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of
the piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered
limbs about her.

[Illustration]

It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the
piazza, with closed eyes.

At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, "Is anybody killed?"

There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody
was killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a
great while before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move.

But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of
Solomon John's fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had
his face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza's
muslin dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one
had lost any limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some
flying in the air. Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her
eyes firmly shut.

[Illustration]

No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of
Solomon John's nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor
from the "fulminating paste."

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