use there ain't!"

"Why not? I'd like to know!"

"'Cause the board of trustees won't let us ring the firebell, and all
the churches have put their solid-ivories together and agreed not to
let their bells be rung! That's why not!"

"Aw, come off!" sneered Sube.

"I guess I know what's in the paper! Don't you read the _Citizen_?"

"Now what do you know about that!" exclaimed Sube disgustedly. "Ain't
that a nice way to celebrate the ever-glorious Fourth!"

"I call it _rotten_!" replied Gizzard feelingly; but it is safe to say
that his feelings were aroused more by Sube's continued repetition of
his new phrase, than disappointment over the modified form of welcome to
the festal day prescribed by certain unpatriotic grown-ups who seemed to
have forgotten that they once were young.

The neither-here-nor-there expression still rankled in Gizzard's memory,
and now Sube was adding vinegar to the wound. But Gizzard realized the
importance of keeping his feelings to himself. He knew that greater
misery would be his lot if Sube ever found out how he felt about it.

"Rotten's no name for it," agreed Sube, scowling. "I guess those ol'
guys have forgot how we signed that Declaration of Independence from
Germany--"

"Germany!" howled Gizzard derisively. "You said Germany! Why, it wasn't
Germany at all! It was _France_!"

"France nothin'! I tell you it was Germany!"

"Look here! They was red-coats, now wasn't they?"

"Yes, but the France soldiers wear red _pants_! Don't you know the diff
between pants and coats! Ha-ha! Can't tell the diff between pants and
coats!"

"Can, too! Can, too! Can, too! C-a-n,--t-o-o!" bawled Gizzard. "And,
anyhow, I knew more'n you did about ringin' the bells! You didn't know
nuthin' about it till I told you!"

"Yes, but I know a pair of pants from a--" Sube stopped short as an idea
came to him. "Say!" he began eagerly, "what's to hinder our sneakin' up
in the Prespaterian steeple and ringin' their ol' bell for em!"

Gizzard shook his head. "Nothin' doin'," he replied promptly. "The paper
says there's goin' to be a watchman at every church in town."

Sube's face relapsed into a scowl. "Did it say who?" he asked
half-heartedly.

"Jus' the sextant."

A look of great joy broke over Sube's countenance. "Ol' Hank Morley!" he
cried. "Why, he's blind in one eye and can't hardly see out of the
other! And he's so feeble he couldn't catch a louse!"

"But how could we get in?" asked Gizzard dubiou