t a child myself! I'm not
a grown-up, and I never will be!"

"That's so!" laughed his wife.

"And so, us children will have a celebration of the children, for the
children, and by the children! How many perfectly good children do you
know down here?"

"Not many," said King; "hardly any, in fact, except the Sand Club."

"The Sand Club! That sounds interesting. Tell me about it."

So King and Marjorie told all about the Sand Club and its six members,
and Cousin Jack declared that was just enough for his idea of a Fourth
of July celebration.

"Now for the plan," he went on. "How about a picnic in the woods, which
I see sticking up over there, and then come back to Bryant Bower for
some fireworks later?"

"I think that sounds beautiful!" said Marjorie, and King entirely
agreed.

"Why not have the fireworks here?" said Mr. Maynard. "You're too good to
these children, Jack."

"Not a bit of it. We can have a celebration here some other night. But
I've picked out the glorious Fourth for my own little racketty-packetty
party. You see, on that day we can make all the noise we like and not
get arrested."

"Can we dress up, Cousin Jack?" asked Marjorie.

"Sure, child; wear your best bib and tucker, if you like, but I like you
better in your play-clothes."

"I don't mean that. I mean costumes."

"Midget is great for dressing up," explained King. "She always wants
some cheesecloth wobbed around her, and veils and feathers on her head."

"Oh, I see! Why, yes, I rather guess we _can_ dress up."

"I'll wear a red, white, and blue sash, and a liberty cap," said Midget,
her eyes dancing.

"Oh, we can do better than that," responded Cousin Jack. "Let's see;
we'll make it a sort of reception affair, and you, Mehitabel, can be the
Goddess of Liberty, or Miss Columbia, whichever you like. Hezekiah, you
can be Uncle Sam! Your respected Cousin Ethel and I will guarantee your
costume."

"I want to be a somefin'," spoke up Rosamond, who had been allowed to
stay up later than usual, in honor of the guests.

"So you shall, Babykins. I guess we'll let Sister be Miss Columbia, and
you shall be a dear little Goddess of Liberty all your own self! How's
that?" and Cousin Jack beamed at the smiling Rosy Posy.

"Now, where shall the picnic be?" asked Cousin Ethel, ready to help
along the plans.

"There's a lovely grove over beyond the pier," said Midget; "we might go
there."

"The very place!" said Cousin Jack; "and we'll have