The Knights of the White Shield Part 7

"Can't you _get_ out?" asked the governor.

"No, no! Let me out! Let me out--quick!"

It was even so. Wort must be _let_ out.

"O, Aunt Stanshy, Wort--Wort--is in the fodder-box, and can't get out!"

shrieked Charlie at the open kitchen window.

"What under the sun--" And, without a word more, Aunt Stanshy left the clothes she was was.h.i.+ng and rushed into the yard.

"Come here, mister, and bring your saw," she said to the man at the wood-pile, "and, Charlie, bring a hammer from the nail-box on the entry-shelf!"

The man at the wood-pile rushed after Aunt Stanshy, saw in hand, while Charlie hurriedly brought the hammer.

"Now saw into that box and knock away with the hammer, mister. You see, Silas Trefethen wanted to hire my barn last winter, and thought he would put in what he called a fodder-box running down from the closet above to this floor, and then intended to knock the closet away when he had carried the box down here, thinking he might save some steps that way, but he was taken sick and the closet was left there; and that closet floor, I suppose, wasn't left just right."

Aunt Stanshy was talking while the man was sawing and hammering away. He plied his tools vigorously, and soon let Wort out into the full light of day once more. The boys shouted and laughed also as Wort wriggled forward into liberty. He looked up, but seeing that his liberator was the man he had seeded, he dropped his head, and, refusing to look again, slunk away with an air that indicated a strong desire to find another box where he could shut himself up for the present.

The man concluded who his enemy was, and he said, "I guess we are even now."

CHAPTER V.

THE NATION'S BIRTHDAY.

"The great thing on the Fourth is to have a good time," said the president.

"No, the great thing," said the practical governor, "is to be sure and wake up in season."

"That's so," chimed several voices in chorus.

"How shall we fix it?" asked Pip.

"Tie your toe to the bed-post," said some one.

"Put a lot of stones in your bed," said Sid, "and then you can't sleep easy."

"Two sleep together and tie their toes to one another," said the governor.

Objections were found against all these plans, as they had been ineffectually tried by various members of the club.

"Go and holler under every boy's window," said Billy Grimes, with the air of one who had made an important discovery. "I will holler under your's, Pip," was his magnificent offer.

"But who will be the feller to go to your window?" asked Sid.

"Why--why--_you_."

"Well, who will holler under my window?" said Sid.

"I," said Wort.

"And under yours?" continued the president.

"I," said Juggie.

"And who under Juggle's?"

"I," said Tony.

"And who under Tony's?"

"I," said Charlie.

"And who under Charlie's?"

That was a problem.

"Aunt Thanthy," suggested Pip.

"Aunt Stanshy is going out visiting," remarked Charlie.

There was a very sad pause. Despair was on the faces of the club. A happy thought came to Charlie. "Some one has got to sit up and wake the next one, and I will. I can take a nap the next forenoon, you know."

"Three cheers for Charlie!" called out Wort, and they were cordially given. It was arranged on the spot that Charlie should sit up. If Aunt Stanshy had been at home she would have vetoed the plan, but, purposing to be absent the night before the Fourth she had engaged Silas Junkins to stay with Charlie and guard the premises. Charlie had no difficulty in obtaining Silas's consent to the plan, and not only his consent, but also his co-operation. In the main entry of Aunt Stanshy's house was a tall, old-fas.h.i.+oned clock. It was an aged household servant, and had done duty in the entry many years. It always stood in one place, one particular corner in the rear of the entry. It is a wonder its voice did not show any sign of collapse, as it had called off the hours so many years. It would not have been strange if it had lost its patience. But uncomplainingly, even cheerily and without any sign of weakness, it told you what time it was. Charlie sometimes heard it in the night, and then it sounded like, "Cheer up! cheer up!" its pleasant voice halting on the "cheer," and then emphasizing the "up." It divided all its peals into two such notes, and when Charlie heard it strike one o'clock the effect was quite enlivening as be lay there in his dark little chamber. At an hour earlier, when it sounded twelve "Cheer ups," what a joyous procession of notes that was! It was like a watchman's voice ringing out "All's well!" twelve times. It occurred to Charlie that he might occupy a chair in the entry, and, if at all inclined to go to sleep, the striking of the clock would keep him awake. Silas Junking moved a table into the entry for Charlie, and set a lamp on it. At nine Silas, who enjoyed very much a large quant.i.ty of sleep, went to his rest in a little bedroom on the same floor with the entry.

"You can step into my room and wake me, Charlie, if any thing happens."

"O, I sha'n't need to," was the watchboy's very emphatic reply.

"Well, good-night!"

"Good-night!"

"Now all I've got to do," soliloquized Charlie, "is just to keep awake, and it is a great deal better than to go to sleep with a string tying your big toe to the bed-post. Hark, there is some one firing off a gun! Wont I wake 'em with a blow on my horn!" Here he saw himself, as he visited house after house, arousing boy after boy. It would be like the falling of a row of bricks, where the only need is to push over the first one and the whole set will follow. Every thing, though, depended on the fall of the first brick. Would Charlie do his part?

"I'll take this story-book about Indians, giants, and fairies," he said, "into the entry, and that will keep me awake splendid."

It was a book startling enough, and the trouble was that it was too startling.

After looking at the book a while, Charlie's mind was so peopled with ferocious giants, Indians on the war-path, fire-breathing dragons, and ghostly genii, that he transferred them to all the corners of the room, and especially to that receptacle of shadows, the s.p.a.ce under the table, the very place where his legs were--ugh! Charlie did not like to look at the book, and, dared not, at the forms under the table! He shut the book and he shut his eyes. Hark, the clock was saying "Cheer up!" and somebody in the lane fired a pistol that seemed to say, "Wake up!" Yes, yes, that was all right, Charlie thought, but--but--he guessed he would close his eyes just this once--and close them just this once--and close them just this once--and in a few minutes the champion watchman was fast asleep! In an hour the clock struck again, and its voice seemed harsh, as if saying, "Young man, young man, wake up!" The notes had no startling effect on Charlie. Indeed, he heard them only as a very sweet, musical voice. The pistols and cannons going off in Water Street reached his ear as mild little pops. Things went on in this way till morning. About five Charlie dropped on the floor the book of Indians and dragons, that patiently had been resting in his lap all night. It roused him. He partially opened his eyes. Before him was an opened door that led into the parlor, and, sitting in his chair, he could see the parlor windows, whose curtains were up and whose panes were brightened by the light in the eastern sky. What did he see at those windows? Had some of the Indians, imagined to be under Charlie's table, gone to the outside of the windows, there to look in, grinning at him and shaking their head-feathers at a boy stupidly sitting near a table on which was a lighted lamp? Charlie rubbed his eyes for a better look, then rubbed again and again, and--and--were those Indians shouting, "Charlie, how are you?" He now sprang to his feet, fully awake, and there were several members of the club, their faces streaked with red chalk, their caps ornamented with all kinds of feathers, their--Charlie did not take another look at their decorations! He only glanced at the clock, exclaimed, "Five o'clock! Whew!" seized his cap, and rushed out-doors.

"Wake up, Charlie! Wake up, Charlie!" was the greeting of his comrades.

"Whew, fellers, aint this cheeky?" inquired Charlie.

"I should think it was--in you. Did your nap refresh you?" asked Sid.