Aunt Nancy, putting up her spectacles to
look at their distressed faces, and beginning to laugh at the sight;
"but you ought to know what you're spending it for. _I_ would, I know,
be able to tell something about my country, and who fought for it."

When Mr. Smith came home the boys were both out in the barn, looking at
a very new colony of kittens in an old barrel. So Aunt Nancy had about
five minutes of peace and quiet, which she speedily made the most of, I
can assure you--talking away so fast that Mr. Smith had to follow her
pretty closely, with eyes as well as ears on the alert.

When she had finished, "Capital," was all he said. And then the boys
came tearing in, and they had tea.

After supper, "Now for a story," cried Joe, getting possession of the
chair next to Mr. Smith, while Harper flew for another.

"When does Fourth of July come?" asked Mr. Smith, abruptly.

"It's three weeks from day after to-morrow," cried Joe, springing up,
and running for the almanac.

"Weill, what are you going to do on the Fourth?" said their father.

"Oh, _everything_," cried Joe, while Harper came in on the chorus; and
Lucy beat a soft little tune on her father's shoulder with her hand.

"You said you'd give us more money _this_ Fourth," cried Harper, seeing
his chance. "Don't you remember? 'Cause we're bigger, you know."

"And so you'll try to blow off your heads harder than ever, I suppose,"
said Mr. Smith, with a twinkle in the eye next to Harper. "And then
who's to pay the doctor's bills, I wonder?"

"If our heads were off, we wouldn't have to have the doctor," suggested
Joe, dreadfully afraid the money wasn't coming.

"True enough," laughed his father. "Well, heads stand for everything
else--all the hurts, I mean."

"I ain't goin' to blow off _my_ head," declared Harper, getting up in an
anxious way, and standing in front of his father. "Say, father, I
promise you I won't. Do give us the money--_do_."

"Do you want more than you had before?" asked his father, pulling his
ear.

"Yes, _sir_," emphatically declared Harper, all out of breath from his
exercise; "I want forty cannons."

"Mercy!" ejaculated Aunt Nancy, in smothered accents, over in the corner
by the window, with her mending basket.

"Well, then, I'll tell you how you can get it," said Mr. Smith, speaking
very earnestly, and fastening his eyes intently on their faces.

"_Really_, papa?" cried Lucy, sitting up straight on his knee.

"_Really_," sa