coats.
Ethan Allen and his brother Ira, beloved heroes of the little Islands,
were there in character. Two lanky lads wore the uniform of 1861.
Mrs. Eaton's "band of peace" in straggling lines, brought up the rear.

Greeted from each side by lusty cheers, through a cloud of dust, to the
tap-a-tap-tap of three proud drummers, the pageant moved down the
street. It had been Webb's plan that the "p'rade" should halt before
the stoop of the hotel, where Mr. Todd, the postmaster, in a collar
much too high and a coat much too tight, waited to give an address of
welcome. But as Webb's eyes roved with pardonable pride over the
fringe of spectators on each side of the line of march, they suddenly
spied an unexpected sight. On the stepping block in front of the
school house stood Nancy, her white skirts blowing, with Nonie and Davy
on each side. And each held, proudly upright, an American flag.

It was a pretty sight--the colors of the flags fluttering over the
three bare heads, the young faces tilted earnestly forward. Webb saw
in it a friendly effort on Miss Anne's part to add to the success of
his "doin's." So as the line of march approached the stepping-block,
he solemnly saluted the three.

Advancing, the returned soldiers also saluted, stiffly. The drummers
lost a beat in order to wave their drumsticks. The Indians gaily
brandished their clubs, the Puritans nodded, the "boys in blue" mimiced
their heroes of the hour with a stiff bending and jerking of their
right arms.

But then and there Mrs. Eaton fell back from her position at the head
of the "band of peace." Nancy, wickedly watching from the corner of a
perfectly innocent appearing eye, saw her give a gasp as she stepped
aside.

Nonie and Davy, exalted into an ecstasy of joy over the part they had
finally played in the celebration, stared in amazement at Nancy's
suppressed peals of laughter, to which she gave way only when the last
wee dove of peace had trailed off toward the hotel. And not only Davy
and Nonie stared; from out of the spectators came Peter Hyde.

"I have cooked my goose--now," giggled Nancy, wiping her eyes and
holding out a hand. "She was _so_ funny! But I have outraged
Freedom's noble history!" Nancy twisted her lips to resemble Mrs.
Eaton's.

"If you'll let me help you down we might hurry and hear some of the
Honorable Jeremiah Todd's oration," suggested Peter Hyde.

Nancy jumped lightly to the ground. "I wouldn't _dare_," she