The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, July 03, 1903, Image 6

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    Three elfins who lived In a falryllke
nook,
Once read of our Fourth of July In a
book.
And promptly their own quiet woodlands
forsook.
To share in the fun and the noise.
Cy the light of the moon they crept out
on the sly
And merrily sang on their way.
Asking politely of each passerby
How rar they must go to meet Fourth
of July,
Till they came to the dawn of the day.
What a diffident song these three elfins
sang
As they limped their way homeward
that night!
They had heard how the bells In the
steeples go "Clang!”
Torpedoes and crackers go "Rattlety
bang!"
And the rockets go up out of sight.
For one little elfin by chance got astride
Of a giant torpedo nearby;
On a huge cannon cracker the next took
a ride;
Number three to the tail of a rocket was
tied,
And all three were blown up there, sky
high.
On the way coming down each elfin de
clared
He had seen quite enough of the sky.
And promised himself, if he lived to be
spared
To ever reach home, and the damage re
paired,
He would stay there on Fourth of July.
Yet this was not all, for they mot on the
road
Three cripples In pitiful plight.
They also had been there to see things
explode—
A tailless young squirrel, a three-legged
toad
And a crow with tall feathers turned
white.
A very wise owl who was scowling close
by
As the woebegone party drew near
Remarked, while winking and blinking
one eye;
‘•Didn't 1 tell you so, that the Fourth
of July
Is the fooly fool day of the year?”
But an eagle swooped down from a tow
ering pine
And said, with his talons uncurled,
"The day Is all right, this country is
mine:
'Tls sad to be crippled, but sadder to
whine;
The Fourth of July leads the world.
"And now, my young friends, allow me
to state
That the flag you saw borne on the
breeze
Is the (lag of the free, and we celebrate
The Fourth of July, while the crackers
debate,
With Just as much fun as we please.
“Be careful, old owl, lest my temper you
stir;
This country cost more than one eye.
And is worth all It cost, though owls
may demur,
We invite everything in horns, feathers
or fur
To sharo In our Fourth of July!”
It required a long time to prepare
tor the celebration of the first Fourth
of July; it demanded nerve, courage;
aeroism; the man who huzzaed for lib
erty then was in danger of putting his
head in a noose, and he who fired a
gun in honor of the occasion was shot
without trial if caught.
Nowadays, people who wake up on
the morning of the Fourth of July,
amid the booming of cannon, the noise
of trumpets, crackle of guns and snap
ping of fire crackers, and a general
pandemonium of free and generous
noise, seldom think of the years of
anxiety, suffering and bloodshed
through which the Colonial Americans
passed before reaching the great day
when they could shout for freedom.
There had been long resistance to
tyranny, oppression and injustice. The
L<exington shot that was “heard
around the world” had been fired.
Harry Lee had proclaimed independ
ence, Patrick Henry had demanded
“liberty or death,” but the time was
not quite ripe for that day of all days
It American history, the Fourth of
July, 177C.
On that day, fifty-six determined
patriots assembled in the state house
at Philadelphia. They had a purpose
in assembling, and that purpose was of
grave import to the whole world. Thir
teen colonies, with their three mil
lions of people knew what the purpose
was; they had sanctioned it, approved
it, and what the fifty-six men were
about to do they were to do on be
half of those three millions of people
who had fought, suffered, bled and
starved that it might be done. Every
body knew what was going to happen,
even the small boy who now makes as
much noise as he can, was there with
the crowds assembled to hear the
tocsin of liberty.
A member of this great Congress of
the people arose, and stopping a mo
ment, looked at the grave faces before
him, then he began to read from a
paper he held in his hand:
“When in the course of human
QGnikS : d
ooaiH|',h Pk.
of duty' DouctiT
«k C>«W ftockrf To jhodTin
: . ft w«nt off
«k yhiz- aatfl w«rTo7,
«uick‘ 'fhftT
>hnnt« for ecu Tc lO' Qo
1h« i\iclC
events," reading on along down the
list of grievances until he reached the
consummating words that created a
new nation:
“We, therefore, the representatives
of the United States of America, in
general Congress assembled, appealing
to the Supreme Judge of the world
for the rectitude of our intentions, do,
in-the name and by the authority of
the good people of these Colonies, sol
emnly publish and declare, That these
United States are, and of right ought j
to be free and independent—” here
ramo an interruption in the person of
a small boy who was blowing a fuse
to keep it burning—he had a small
cannon ready loaded to be the first to
celebrate the very first Fourth of July
—he rushed to the old bellman, wait
ing with the rope in his hand to ring
out liberty on liberty bell. “Ring!
Ring! Ring!” he shouted, and the
old bellman threw his whole weight
great-grandfather’a old flintlock musket
on my shoulder, and my pockets full
of powder and shot, firecrackers, and
torpedoes.
I have always been in the very thick
est of the fight, and when night came
on and lack cf ammunition forced a
cessation of hostilities, I have retired
to my well-earned rest with joyful,
pleasurable sensations, feeling that the
enemy were routed—horse, foot and
dragoons.
True, I have suffered much; I have
lost a thumb, my scalp has been tom
off In several places, my eyebrows are
not what they should be, my face is
badly freckled w ith powder marks, and
a portion of my ear is on the battle
field. But what of that? Am I not a
patriot, a citizen of this great nation
that can whip all creation? Pooh! I
guess yes.
But I am growing old now, and al
though I still feel enthusiastic as much
‘Tommie Ihou^hi ■
he would fry
To see
how mucHr^-^
noio*e+Y
could with
powcJat
ma.tie1
On The
^ up the
the edge
of n
3|>Ad<?
5 v of duly
kind bAS3«r*0y
cSwept '
remain 3 on
upon the rope and the tongue of that .
liberty bell spoke to the crowd, and i
said, "We are free, the life of a new
and great nation has begun. Rejoice |
and be glad.” And the people shouted
"Huzza! We are free!” Then they ]
embraced one another, and shouted j
themselves hoarse, and when they j
could shout no more they fired guns, j
touched off gun powder, and waved
flags, but the tongue of liberty bell
kept on ringing, for two long hours
the old bellman pulled with all his
strength, and when asked why he did
not stop, he answereu, “I can’t; I don’t
want to. I could keep on ringing lib
erty to the world forever.” Then the 1
fifty-six men arose and shouted, and
huzzaed and embraced, the deed was
done, the nation was born, and the first
Fourth of July was Inaugurated. We
have been keeping it up ever since,
and as we grow larger and stronger,
wo make more noise, which is very
natural and quite proper.
L
REFLECTIONS j
J
By a Disabled Veteran.
For over forty years I have been a
member of the great army of patriots
who fought over again the great fight
for liberty on every recurring Fourth
of July. Ever since I was able to
strike a match, or touch oft powder,
I have gallantly turned out with the
rest of the revolutionary army, with
grandfather’s saber by my side, my
a3 I ever did, I prefer to look on and
hurrah, instead of falling in with the
procession. Besides, I deserve a pen
sion if any soldier who fought in the
cause of liberty ever did. Why not
pension all our Fourth of July soldiers?
A grand Idea, Indeed. With a pension
in view, the whole country would be
in the agony of battle from daylight
to dark and several hours after on
every Fourth of July. I think I will
try to make this a political issue in
the next campaign for town mashal. It
will win, for every man, woman and
child will go in on it—for the sake of
tho pension. You think they won’t,
oh? Well, you will see. Hurrah for
the Fourth of July! Hurrah for pen
sions to everyone that can hold a fire
cracker!
r
♦♦♦ ♦ O -♦ 4
THE SPIRIT Of 76
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦♦ ♦♦ • •
The passing of one hundred and
twenty seven years has not dimmed
the patriotic spirit of ’76, "when men
put ropes around their neck that we
might have a free and independent na
tion.” Men of patriotic souls and im
pulses rise to tho surface of the dead
money-making level and inspire our
youth with new energy to do or to die.
Shall the object for which this na
tion was founded be lost sight of In
time, or be even momentarily forgot
ten? No, there are sentinels watching
our course and th^y always bring ua
back again to true liberty.
Treading the plaza's pavement gray.
Thronging the busy mart,
Children forming the living flag
Capture the city's heart;
Gay are their lines in red and white,
Starred la their squad In blue,
Bright in the depths of their youthful
eyes , .
Ivatriot hearts shine through.
Greetings glad to our living flag, -
Music of martial drum.
Blaring of bugles where down the street
Joytul the children come;
Bed' is the rose of youth’s fair spring,
White is its record page.
Blue is tlie sky where rests no cloud
Borrowed trom doubting age.
Cheers for the flag, the living flag,
Klag that our children form,
Marching on o’er the highway now.
Bright as our nation's morn;
Bed for tire warrior's valiant heart,
White for the soul of youth.
Blue for the hope of our country's weal,
Strong as the love of truth.
Hail, all hail. Old Glory's folds,
Sign of our victories great,
Battles at sea and wars on land.
Waged to upbuild me »uue,
Red for the blood of a martyred host.
White for a soul's pure flight;
Blue for the hope and fidelity
Nurtured and slain for the right.
Bright be thy course, our living flag,
Regally marching by,
Hearts and minds our allegiance pledge,
Larval to live or die;
Red be thy ;ihth, as the rose of joy,
N ver to fade or cease,
White as the lily, as heartsease blue
Blossom thy way of peace.
We are the flag, my children,
Living in hopes and fears,
Ours is Its rainbow covenant.
Washed in a shower of tears;
Red is our martyr heart-blood,
White is our hero soul.
Blue is our sky where starry hosts
Patriot names enroll.
TIig Declaration I
ot ndencndencej
You have all read the Declaration of
Independence, I suppose. It is print
ed on fine type in the back of the
Child's History, and at the top of the
names signed at the end to show how
they wrote them is John Hancock’s
big and hold, the way a person would
write if he were doing it with a burnt
match. Papa used to gather us to
gether in the parlor after breakfast
every Fourth of July and read us parts
of it and explain the long words, so
that we would understand what the
Fourttf of July was really for—that it
wasn't just to burn hole9 in your
clothes, and frighten horses, and leave
stubs of fire crackers on the sidewalk
that don’t get swept off for days. When
we children came to have our own
revolution against the governess that
time mamma and papa went away to
be gone two days, we knew just how to
go about it; and we wrote a Declara
tion of Independence, copying it af- j
ter the real true one, and then we all
signed our names at the bottom with
big flourishes, the way John Hancock
and the others did.
We thought with all our preparation
success was sure, just as the patriots
of '70 were successful as the reward
of their daring, but alas!
Our governess name was Georglana
—Oeorgiana Saunders—which made it
ail the more appropriate, because the
name of the King about whom the ori
ginal Declaration was written was
George, as yon probably know.
When we got the Declaration done,
it was something like this—some of the
language v.e took from the book and
some we made up ourselves:
When in the course of human events
it becomes necessary for something to
be done about It, and we can’t stand It
any longer. The history of our present
governess is a history of repeated in
juries and usurpations. To prove this
let facts be submitted to a candid
world.
1. She makes us brush our teeth
twice a day. which is unnecessary as
well as wasteful.
2. She won’t let us lay books face
downwards, and so you lose the place
and are a long time finding it when
you come back.
3. She objects if you make a fork
in your mashed potatoes.
4. She won't let us breathe on the
window and write with our lingers
days when it rains.
5. We can’t have butter and sugar
on our rice, only milk and sugar.
6. She notices, and makes us go
back to look where we’ve made linger
marks on the white paint.
7. We have to make our own beds,
and then, if there is a wrinkle, or it
isn't done right, we have to do it all
over again.
8. She’s just awful, every way you
can think of.
We, therefore, do solemnly publish
and declare that we are and by right
ought to be free and independent, and
that our mother and our father went
away this morning and will not be
back until to-morrow evening, and that
she is not our mother and our father,
never has been and never will be, and
that we mean to do as we please, and
that we have full right to levy war and
also to do all other acts and things.
And to this we pledge our lives, our
fortunes and our sacred honor.
(Signed)
Arthur L. Bainbridge (that’s me),
Marjorie Bainbridge,
Hester B. Bainbridge,
Charles W. Bainbridge,
Gregory Bainbridge, his x mark.
And we brought in Rex—he’s a mix
ture of an English mastiff and a Si
berian bloodhound—and we inked his
paw, and made him step on the paper
Just below Gregory’s name. And then
we drew a circle around it and wrote
“Rex, his mark." Then Mjjida, the col
lie dog, had to come in, too, and pretty
soon there was a mark about the size
of a hot house violet, just below where
Rex had printed a big black carnation
shaped thing with his lordly paw.
Spotty, the cat, was the best of all;
she upset the ink bottle on the nur
sery carpet, and got all her four paws
in the ink, and then ran right across
the paper, so her name was in several
places. Charley (who wrote it) was
sort of mad at first—said it spoiled the
looks of the paper, and it would have
to be written all over, but we told him
it showed how interested and enthusi
astic Spotty was.
men Marjorie got her sealing wax,
and took a piece of red silk ribbon and
made a kind of bow out of it with long
streaming ends; and we put a seal
down in the lower left hand corner.
And when it was all finished It was a
work of art. Then the question was,
What should we do with it?
“Bet's put it at her plate at break
fast.,” suggested Hester.
‘‘Better send it through the mail,”
said Marjorie. ‘‘She won’t dare to say
anything to the postman.
“Pin it on her door,” said Charley.
“No,” I said, “that won’t do. The
original Declaration was read out loud
—I know, ’cause I asked papa. They
read it out loud, and then they rang a
big bell till It cracked.
“Well, who’s going to be the one to
read it?” asked Charlie.
“We’ll draw lots.” I said.
And we did with little pieces of
string; and the lot fell to me. It al
ways happens that way—the one who
plans a thing not only has to do all the
thinking, but he has to go and carry
out his own idea while the other people
stand and look on, or maybe even
make fun of him.
“You'll all have tp go with me, any
way,” I said. “I’ll read It outside her
door at 7 o'clock to-morrow morning,
and when I get through you must all
raise a mighty shout, like the people
did outside the palace of the King at
the time of the French Revolution, and
you must yell, ‘Down with the tyrant
ess! Off with her head!' and things
like that, and Gregory is to have the
servants’ dinner bell and ring like
mad; and then all the rest of the day
we’re going to do Just as we please,
and if sne calls we won’t come, no mat
ter how loud she hollers.”
The rest all thought it was a bully
idea, but Charley said:
“Hadn't we better do it after break
fast? Because it’s griddle-cakes to
morrow morning, and we mightn’t get
any.”
So we decided to start in being revo
lutionists after breakfast instead of be
fore. After breakfast, while we’re
supposed to be upstairs making our
beds, Miss Saunders sits in the library
for about half an hour, reading the
morning papers, and that would be a
good chance to read the declaration
to her.
All through breakfast the next morn
ing we were awfully glum and nerv
ous. Before wo got to the griddle
cakes, I forgot and left my spoon in
my chocolate, and my arm went
against it quite accidentally, and the
whole cup got spilled on Hester, just
as she was stooping to pick up a piece
of toast, and went all over the back
of the guimpe of her dress. And Miss
Saunders swallowed whatever she put
in her mouth in a great hurry, and
took off her eyeglasses and pushed her
chair back from the table a little and
Just looked at us. And then she said,
in that awfully quiet voice that is
twice as mad as when a person lets out
a yell:
“Arthur, how often have I told you
never to leave your spoon in your cup?
This is the second time within a week
that this has occurred; you may go up
in your room and remain there until
I come."
l uiun i Know wnai 10 no, uecause
if I went upstairs then it would knock
our plan of reading the Declaration in
the head. And while I was rolling up
my napkin as slowly as I could, trying
to think what I should do, her voice
broke in:
"Come, Arthur, I am waiting.”
Then I put my napkin down and
stood up in my chair. Her eyes near
ly bulged out of her head at that, be
cause of all the forbidden things in
the house, standing on any of the
chairs but the ones in the kitchen and
the playroom is about the forbiddenest
“Why, you—you bad little boy, you!”
she gasped. "Arthur, I don’t under
stand.”
But I just pulled the Declaration of
Independence out of my pocket and
began to read. I read all the things
that she would not let us do, and was
just getting to the place where it said
we meant to do as we pleased till
mamma and papa came home. I hadn’t
been looking at her, because it was
as much as I could do to make out
Charles’ writing. And, besides, some
of the things, when you came to read
them out loud to the person they were
intended for, sounded pretty dreadful
—particularly where it said, “She’s
just awful every way you can think
of,” my cheeks felt kind of hot when
I got to those places, and I let my voice (
down and hurried over them as fast as
I could. She must have come behind
while I was trying to make out some
of the hard words, which I don’t think
—and the others all agreed with me
afterwards—was quite a fair advan
tage to take. And she used to be od
the basket-ball team when she was in
college, and she was awfully strong. It
is no disgrace to be overpowered by
such a strong person, and carried up
stairs, and locked in your room—and
then to be told through the keyhole
that you are to stay there until you are
sorry. I suppose that ie the way
George the Third would have treated
John Hancock if he could.