"I wouldn't, unless there is absolutely no home talent here," cautioned Grandpapa Perrydew. "If I mistake not, I have heard some one practicing the horn, and from another quarter I hear a flute. And we could have flags. I have several dozen with which I decorate my house when the election goes to suit me. Then my grandson, quite unknown to me, of course, is getting up something he intends to be a cannon. Perhaps I can persuade him to add it to the celebration."

"Under your supervision, of course," said Miss Annette, who was very much afraid of guns, and all their kindred.

"Under my supervision, of course," assented Mr. Perrydew.

That very afternoon he found out the home talent. Hans Samuelson, the butcher, played the clarionette, and Ole Pattersen played the drum, and Nels Nelson could play two tunes on the flute. They met that evening over the butcher's shop for practice, and the stillness of South Rosedale was so invaded by the sounds that all the dogs in the vicinity came out and barked, not knowing they were hearing the strains of Yankee Doodle.

Independence Day dawned hot and bright, and when the school bell, as by agreement, rang out, little folks began to stream toward the Sandford place. from every quarter. Hans, and Ole, and Nels, were stationed upon the front steps, and they played "My Country, 'tis of Thee," in a way to make your eyes shine. Jeremiah Hatch, who was prepared to be very angry on the slightest occasion, was astonished to see how careful every one was of the flowers and the lawn, and when they began to march out, with the big silk banner belonging to Miss Annette at the head (her father had taken it in part payment of a bad debt), Jeremiah felt a queer choking in his throat. Professor Gunny, the principal of the high school, led the way with the minister. Then came twenty girls, two and two, carrying wreaths of daisies, then the three musicians, then twenty boys, then twenty girls, and at the last was Harry Scott and ten boys dragging the "bangwhanger" by a long rope. It looked very brave indeed, and really did not need to have "A Cannon" printed upon it in black letters. Last of all, came Grandpapa Perrydew and Miss Sandford in the phaeton after Bobby. There was a great craning of necks at the cannon, and each boy secretly longed to hold its rope; but some of us have to be left out of things in this world. When he reached the gate, Ole Pattersen began to drum, "Rub-a-dub-dub, Rub-a-dub-a-dubdub, Rub-a-dub-a-dub-dub ;" presently the clarionette and flute took up the air, and Billy Mitchell, who carried the big flag, cried "Hurrah!" at which all the bearers of the little flags raised theirs, and, regardless of one another's heads, swung them and cried "Hurrah!" too; and Jeremiah, who had lost his one son in the great Civil War, had two little tears come in his eyes, while he said out loud to himself and the iron lions: "God bless 'em! God bless 'em, every one!" If South Rosedale wasn't of much account, no prettier spot in the world could be found for a picnic than its stretch of lake shore. The tall jack-oaks

gave a pleasant shade. There were swings, and croquet sets, and quoits, and balls. At last there came the time for the "bang-whanger" to show itself off. The minister had talked about the day, and Grandpapa Perrydew had said a few words to the effect that he hoped every boy and girl present would grow up to love America, and then had sat down very red and perspiring, to immediately bob up and introduce the cannon. "It is home-made," he said, "but I trust the company will not think the less of it on that account. I however suggest that we take every precaution, and get out of range behind, as well as before it, since we cannot tell just how it may perform."

The cannon did itself great credit, so the boys were permitted to load it themselves the second time. But it did not go off "by the first intention," so to speak. Harry begged his grandpapa to give him one of the tiny waxen tapers he always carried in his pocket; and setting that to the touch-hole, he stepped to one side just in time, for with a terrific report the "bang-whanger" exploded. Everybody screamed, but no one was hurt, save poor Arabella, who for safety had been set upon a stump. I grieve to tell it, but instead of going toward the lake, at which it was aimed, the gas pipe torn from the bed slats flew straight at the poor dolly and took off her head, yellow leather cap and all, and left her bleeding sawdust at every pore.

But after all the day was a great success, and Mr. Spattleby, the postmaster, spoke everybody's mind when he rose and suggested that a vote of thanks should be given Miss Sandford and Grandpapa Perrydew. Ole Pattersen came up bowing and blushing, and holding out his hand. "Neffer in my life vill I forget dis tay," he declared. "No; not if I should live more as thirty, or twenty years. It vill pe alvays to me vat you call in In-glish an e-went."

I might tell you more. Certainly the next year the board villas were puttied, and painted, and papered, and rented, and smart new houses were built. Then the twins went to live in the Sandford house; for Grandpapa Perrydew, being sociable, and finding Miss Annette a delightful lady, asked her to marry him—and she did. She spends no time now with the naphtha sprinkling pot, for she wears her gowns. But all this is outside of the story.

Elizabeth Cumings.

AN OLD SPANISH TOWN.

S soon as we landed in the queer old city, an interpreter took us to a street called the "Sea-wall Street," and introduced us to our future landlady. We had the ground floor given to us; it had a large window, the size of a common door, iron-barred and screened from the inside. This floor consisted only of two rooms in one, alcove-shaped; the kitchen was in the courtyard.

After the interpreter left us, the landlady asked us something in Spanish, but it was no use; we stopped conversation. We washed ourselves with very little water, that she gave us from a large brown earthen jar with a perforated cover, that stood in a corner in our room. When she gave us that water, she raised her hands and eyes, and said, "Cara! cara!" and she took out a few copper pennies from her bosom and showed them to us, to explain how many of those pennies it took to buy the water that was in that jar. She taught us, later on, how to wash our faces with a little water and vinegar. I tried it; it made my skin tight.

During daytime, up to three o'clock in the afternoon, we had to keep ourselves indoors, as the air outside was too hot; but once our front door was shut, it was very pleasant to sit in the entry-way or in our bedroom.

The Spaniards whitewash their rooms and entries about every three months, and they scrub the brick pavements at the same time; so you are sure to have always red soles to your boots, and a white back.

As I was sitting one day in the entry, the little Maraquita, the daughter of the landlady, came and sat near me on a very low stool, and began to crochet, at which work the Spanish ladies are very skillful; although I could not say a word to her in Spanish, I managed to make acquaintance just the same. I looked at her work; I smiled at her, and taking her crochet hook, I showed her my desire to copy her work. From that day I talked Spanish.

As the street where we lived was very sandy, like a beach, my Italian sateen boots were of no use to me; so my aunt gave me some money, and one afternoon I went with Maraquita down town, and I bought myself a pair of Spanish pappatillios-shoes made of straw and rope. Of course I carried my own boots home, and wore those Spanish ones from the shop. As only a toe and a half goes into those slippers, I had to walk carefully so not to drop them.

At every corner we turned we met a boy or a girl, and made friends at once; by the time I reached my house we were eight, including two naked boys and a little girl four years old. It is true they were naked, but the boys had on their toe slippers and a straw hat, and the little girl had on a pretty coral necklace; so you see they were complete, after the Spanish style.

When we returned to the house we staid outside, as then a good breeze was blowing from the sea; we took some chairs out of our bedroom, and the landlord told us to keep our eyes on them, as the neighbors might take them which, later on, we found to be true.

As we sat there, we could see lots of young men running in different directions, dressed in their best clothes; that is, some had long narrow trousers, straw shoes, a large and long red scarf around their waists, a white shirt and a short black astrakhan jacket, with a large gray sombrero of felt. They all had a cigarette in their mouths, and they all carried a guitar, or a mandolin, with ribbons of different colors flying from the handles of them. They all had the same intentions: they were going to see their girls.

We had music on our side, too; the landlord, when he was not scolding his wife or daughter, played the guitar, and made little Maraquita dance the fandango or the cachuca. To encourage her he would shout, "Andar! andar!” which meant "Go ahead."

On a balcony near our house there was a beautiful Spanish girl, and when her lover came in the evening to see her, they would both sit there on that balcony playing duets - she playing on the mandolin, and he on the guitar.

When night came we had a beautiful view. Opposite our terrace we had the mountains; the natives were blasting rocks upon them, and when the laborers finished their work for the day, we could see several families building fires here and there to keep themselves cheerful. As their children danced around those fires, they looked like so many witches.

When I lay down in my bed and prepared to sleep, I heard a strange music playing near my eyes and nose; it was the humming of the mosquitoes; I finally got used to their music, and fell asleep.

In the morning I surprised my friends; they thought that I was going to have smallpox; my face was all covered with red patches. We drank the Spanish coffee that the landlady made for us, and afterward we went to the market to buy our own provisions. I found the Spanish market quite different from our Lombardy market. The fruit venders occupied both sides of a hill. We bought several kinds of fruit, and a nice large Spanish basket, which at first gave us a little trouble, as it was made in a unique form, being very shallow and large. As I was holding it, I forgot to hold on to both loops; the consequence was my purchases went rolling down the hill.

After having gathered them up, we went to the bakery; as we got near it, we thought they were having a riot, but we soon found out that it was the usual crowd that met there every morning bargaining for bread, and they got excited without knowing it. Afterward we went in a curious-looking shop; in that shop we could buy anything except dress-goods and jewelry.

We bought some chocolate made with peas, peanuts, beans and several other things, all roasted together; that chocolate tasted queer at first, but afterward

we got used to the flavor. We bought some shoe-strings, hairpins, a fishingpole, some pimento, macaroni, an earthen pot, etc.

We cooked our own meals; the kitchen was in the court yard, which had a balcony all around it. Against one or two portions of that yard the Spaniards have their kilns of brick, with two or three openings. Besides these they have portable Franklin stoves. The landlady gave to my aunt the right to cook on these fornelli, and she cooked her meals on the little Franklin.

When my aunt had cooked her soup, she wanted Frasquita to taste it; but that lady, after taking it in her mouth, spat it out, saying, "No bono, no bono;" and she insisted that my aunt should taste her soup; but my aunt did not like hers.

I saw how Frasquita made her olla podrida. After having lighted her Franklin, she put on it a tecchia a flat utensil like a shallow bowl-into that she put some oil, pork, large red peppers, pimento, garvanzo, garlic, onions, a handful of rice, a quarter of a pound of meat; and she kept mixing this stuff for half an hour or so. Meantime Maraquita was preparing the table, and the four crickets, as they had a boarder - a boatman.

On that table they always had an abundance of fruit, as the Spanish people prefer it to drinking water during their meals; they generally eat a piece of watermelon or cantaloupe, or apples and peaches, and they have fresh flowers; although their wine is cheap and good, they drink very little of it, and I never saw a Spaniard drunk while I lived in Spain.

It was I who did the errands. While in one of the stores, the story of Don Quixote came back to me. Imagine a large and long vaulted fondac, all whitewashed; at the very end of it there was the bed of the family; near the entrance door were placed three large kegs, all full of wine, and hanging near the fireplace I saw two large skins full of oil. I always saw a boy or two on top of the wine kegs, drumming on them, playing soldiers on horseback.

Farther along were the family kilns, seven in number; they always had something cooking on them; they must have kept boarders. Thrown on a large board I saw several branches of dates, and lots of vegetables.

One day I saw several boys busy on a strange and horrible work; they were pulling some poor silkworms apart, so to make fishing-lines out of their entrails.

I never sat at the table at dinner or supper. I used to take my portion and sit in a crowd of boys and girls, and they looked at me and my dinner with wonder; some of them would taste my soup. They all had their wooden spoons with them.

At about five o'clock in the afternoon the street we lived in was full of all kinds of children- some nude, some dressed-and they all played together.

One Sunday we went, in company with several officers and boatmen, to St. Lucia, a beautiful hill situated a few miles from Cartagena. You could go to it by land or by water; we went by the road, packed in one of those Spanish