the closing door.

And they knew what he meant, and went away down the hill, as sober
as the cricket when he was departing from the door of the thrifty
ant.

XXXIII

First Selectman Sproul halted for a few moments on the steps of the
town house the next morning in order to gaze out surlily on the
left-overs of that day of celebration. Smyrna's village square was
unsightly with a litter of evil-smelling firecracker remnants, with
torn paper bags, broken canes, dented tin horns and all the usual
flotsam marking the wake of a carnival crowd.

Constable Nute came tramping to him across this untidy carpeting and
directed his attention to the broken windows in the town house and
in other buildings that surrounded the square.

"Actions of visitin' firemen, mostly," explained the constable,
gloomily. "Took that way of expressin' their opinion of a town that
would cheat 'em out of prize-money that they came down here all in
good faith to get. And I don't blame 'em to any great extent."

"Nor I, either," agreed the Cap'n with a readiness that surprised
Mr. Nute. "A town that doesn't pay its bills ought to be ashamed of
itself."

The constable backed away a few steps and stared at this amazing
detractor.

"I paid bills prompt and honest just as long as there was any money
to pay 'em with," the Cap'n went on. "There's nothin' on _my_
conscience."

"Yes, but who did you pay the money to?" complained Nute, voicing
the protest of Smyrna. "The least you could have done was to make
them plug-hatters share pro raty with the fire-company boys--and the
fire-company boys furnished the show; them plug-hatters didn't."

"It's always been my rule to pay a hundred cents on the dollar, and
I paid the hundred cents so long as the cash lasted. Go hunt up your
Pote Tate if you want to know why the plug-hatters had a good claim."

"He's back, Tate is, and we made him explain, and this town had no
business in givin' a cussed fool like him so much power. If I had
cut up the caper he has I'd have stayed away, but he's back for his
folks to support him some more. He didn't even have gumption enough
to beg vittles."

"Well, this town has had a hearty meal, and all is I hope it won't
feel hungry for celebrations till it's time for the next centennial,"
observed the Cap'n. "There's one thing about this affair that I'm
goin' to praise--it was hearty and satisfyin'. It has dulled the
celebratin' appetite in this town for some time."