's sword!"

"We'll be along soon."

"How will I know it? I may be up stairs."

"We will give three cheers under the window."

There was an increasing commotion in the barn chamber.

"Now, fellers!" exclaimed Sid Waters. "You won't be ready for the grand
march."

"Yes, yes, yes," they shouted back.

"Is the chariot ready for the president?" inquired Sid.

"Yes," said Charlie, who purposed to furnish his go-cart for the occasion.
"It's down in the yard."

"I have the first ride, you know."

"And I the second," said the governor.

"Yes, but the governor must go behind while the president rides."

Rick's heart sank within him, but all had promised to obey orders and
there was no appeal.

"Every feller's--I mean knight's--uniform ready?" asked the president.

Charlie's certainly was. Every moment he could spare out of school that
day, he had been sewing in his snug little bedroom. Such stitches! They
looked like pairs of bars trying to straddle a brush fence. For epaulets
he arranged pieces of black cloth, the center of each being brightened
with a strip of red. His belt was made of white flannel dotted with a
flaming row of red stars, and with these were interspersed various sizes
of mild chocolate suns. Each of the other warriors sported a chalk shield,
as did Charlie. This was the only thing in common. Other insignia varied
in character, color, and size, as much as would those of Chinese,
Anglo-Saxon and Zulu troops. Pip Peckham, in his anxiety for distinction,
had chalked a shield on each shoulder! The cheapness of the material used
would readily permit this, but Pip's appearance was insignificant beside
Charlie's, who strode forward to the march, flourishing grandsir's sword.
Not even Alexander, Julius Caesar, Napoleon, or General Grant, ever had a
sword to be compared with Charlie's that day. The warriors moved out from
their "armory" into the yard. Aunt Stanshy was up stairs making a bed.
Suddenly under her window, arose a wild, semi-civilized, semi-barbarous
shout.

"What is to pay?" she screamed. "O those little boobies!" and she sprang
to the window. The "Grand March" had been inaugurated with full pomp. Sid
Waters, as president, was sitting in the go-cart, his head ornamented with
a huge smothering three-cornered hat, made out of a New York daily. Rick
Grimes, as governor, was walking behind the go-cart, now and then giving
the "chariot" an obsequious push, but impatiently awaiting his turn for a