The Fourth came in a glorious day, all sunshine and blue sky, with
birds singing in every poplar bluff, and it was given such a
celebration as Thomas had never seen since the "Twelfth" had been held
in Souris. The American settlers who had been pouring into the Souris
valley had--without so much as asking leave from the Government at
Ottawa, the school trustees, or the oldest settler, who was Thomas
himself--gone ahead and celebrated. Every American family had brought
their own flagpole, in "joints," with them, and on the Fourth immense
banners of stars and stripes spread their folds in triumph on the
breeze.
The celebration was held in a large grove just across the road from
Thomas Shouldice's little house; and to his inflamed patriotism, every
firecracker that split the air, every cheer that rent the heavens,
every blare of their smashing band music, seemed a direct challenge to
King Edward himself, God bless him!
Mr. Shouldice worked all day at his hay-meadow, just to show them! He
worked hard, too, never deigning a glance at their "carryin's on," just
to let them know that he did not care two cents for their Fourth of
July.
His first thought was to feign indifference, but when he saw the
Wilsons, the Wrays, the Henrys, Canadian-bred and born, driving over to
the enemy's camp, with their Sunday clothes on and big boxes of
provisions on the "doggery" of their buckboards, his indifference fled
and was replaced by profanity.
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