The Story of a Bad Boy

hen the approach of an important celebration produced the g

gunpowder in various seductive forms, that I wonder I didn't explode under Mr. Grimshaw's very nose. I couldn't do a sum to save me; I couldn't tell, for love or money, whether Tallahassee was the capital of Tennessee

The class in arithmetic, for instance, was requested to state how many boxes of fire-crackers, each box measuring sixteen inches square, could be stored in a room of such and such dimens

o with the tea on board the English

ity that made Mr. Grimshaw smile in spite of himself. One luckless urchin

e but dangerous fire-toy) was over us all. We went round deformed by quantities of Chinese crackers artlessly concealed in our tro

ble-cloth, on the exact spot where he usually struck, certain boy, whose name I withhold, placed a fat torpedo. The result was a loud explosion, which caused Mr. Grimshaw to look queer. Cha

hhold) instantly regretted his badness, and after school confessed the whole thing to Mr. Grimshaw, who heaped coals of fire upon the nameless boy'

ion of our national independence. A portion of this money, two dollars, I hastened to invest in fireworks; the balance I put by for contingencies. In placing the fund in my possession, the Cap

ck Harris, though he, to be sure, was a big boy, was going to have a real oldfashioned flintlock musket. However, I didn't mean to let this drawback destroy my happiness.

the Captain's leave to attend this ceremony, for I had a general idea that he wouldn't give it. If the Captain, I reasoned, doesn't forbid me, I b

to come round; and I thought it never would come round, as I lay counting from time to time the slow strokes of the ponderous bell in the

t from Kitty Collins's clothes-line) to the bedpost nearest the window, and cautiously climbed out on the wide pediment over the hall door. I had neglected to knot the rope; the result was, that, the moment I swung clear of the pediment, I descended like

etting moon the form of a man leaning over the garden gate. It was one of the town watch, who had probably been observing

doin'?" asked the man, grasp

lied, "and am going to the bonfire. I didn'

t me in the most amiable ma

. He didn't attempt to stop me

ds still tingled so that I couldn't join in the sport. I stood in the doorway of the Nautilus Bank, watching the workers, among whom I recognized lots of my schoolmates. They looked like a l

g and crackling beautifully. This was a signal for the boys to join hands and dance around the burning barrels, which they did shouting like mad creatures. When the fire had b

ed together here and there in knots, consulting as to what should be done. It yet lacked four or five hours of daybreak, and none of us were in

rry Blake, and Pepper Whitcomb, their faces streaked with perspiration

iley!" shouted Pepper Wh

for anything -- none the less ripe for not knowing what was on the tapis.

uperseded that primitive mode of travel, the lumbering vehicle was rolled in the barn, and there it stayed. The stage-driver, after prophesying the immediate downfall of the nation, died of grief and apoplexy, and the old coach followed in his wake as fast as could by quietly dr

ought to thank us for getting the rubbish out of the way. But if any fellow here doesn't wa

The interior of the stable was pitch-dark, of course. As we made a movement to enter, a sudden scr

" cried P

exclaimed H

sted Jack Harris

raps and succeeded with great trouble in dragging the coach out. The two fore wheels had rusted to the axle-tree, and refused to revolve. It was the merest skeleton of a coach. The cushions had long since been rem

ed as we arrived at the foot of the declivity, we charged upon the crowd like a regiment of cavalry, scattering the people right and left. Before reaching the bonfire, to which someone had added several bushels of shavings, Jack Harris and Phil Adams, who were steering, dropped on t

nd clung to the rotten woodwork, which burned like tinder. At this moment a figure was seen leaping wildly from the inside of the blazing coach. The figure

rwards. But the laugh, as it happened, was on our side, or would have been, if half a dozen watchmen had not suddenly pounced down upon us, as w

o the silent, gloomy brick room in the rear of the Meat Market se

k Harris, with a sickly

arry Blake, glancing at the bare bric

," muttered Phil

narrow passage-way. A portion of the rooms partitioned off into eight cells, numbered, each capable of holding two persons. The cells

couple of stout wooden benches. It was a dismal place by night, and only little less dismal by day, tall houses surrounding "the lock-up" prevente

ng but cheerful. Adams and Harris looked very anxious, and Harry Blake, whose nose had just st

han Pepper Whitcomb's presented. His look of natural astonishment at finding hi

aron Trenck would have conducted himself under simil

artling snore from the cells, reigned throughout the chamber. By and by Pepper Whitcomb

mpatiently. "What I'm afraid of is that they'

voice from one of the cells. It was a dee

he cells in general; for the echoing qualities o

se up to the gratings of No. 3, "but ef I was a youngster like yo

f the prison-birds, wagging thei

from his seat and walking on tip-toe to t

agin that 'ere door, an' crawl out of tha

it is, Jim," said the occu

ced the benches one on the top of another under the ventilator, and

n in cell No. 3, "there's a sufferin' family here as could make use

ed out the coin from a mass of fireworks, and gave it to the prisoner. He appeared to

in here by a rascally nevew as wish

reporting the outrage to my grandfather and ha

t young reptyle!" shoute

ely, amid a roar of laugh

exclaimed Harris, withdrawi

and night; but on this particular occasion, his services being

softly on the ground outside. We all followed him expeditiously -- Pepper Whitcomb an

s, everybody