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That is to say； a puncheon。 But by all means let us avoid
turning this romance into a farce。
VII。PYROTECHNY。
But the headstrong young man went to work； making fireworks。
He bought and carefully studied a work on pyrotechny。
The villagers knew that he was a remarkably skilful young man；
and they all said； 〃We shall have a great treat next 4th of
July。〃
Meanwhile Pettingill worked away。
VIII。THE DAY。
The great day came at last。
Thousands poured into the little village from far and near。
There was an oration； of course。
IX。ORATORY IN AMERICA。
Yes； there was an oration。
We have a passion for oratory in Americapolitical oratory
chiefly。
Our political orators never lose a chance to 〃express their
views。〃
They will do it。 You cannot stop them。
There was an execution in Ohio one day； and the Sheriff； before
placing the rope round the murderer's neck； asked him if he had
any remarks to make？
〃If he hasn't；〃 said a well…known local orator； pushing his
way rapidly through the dense crowd to the gallows〃if our
ill…starred feller…citizen don't feel inclined to make a speech
and is in no hurry； I should like to avail myself of the present
occasion to make some remarks on the necessity of a new
protective tariff！〃
X。PETTINGILL'S FIREWORKS。
As I said in Chapter VIII。； there was an oration。 There were
also processions； and guns； and banners。
〃This evening；〃 said the chairman of the committee of
arrangements； 〃this evening； fellow…citizens； there will be a
grand display of fireworks on the village green； superintended by
the inventor and manufacturer； our public…spirited townsman； Mr。
Reuben Pettingill。〃
Night closed in； and an immense concourse of people gathered on
the village green。
On a raised platform； amidst his fireworks； stood Pettingill。
He felt that the great hour of his life had come； and； in a firm；
clear voice； he said：
〃The fust fireworks； feller…citizens； will be a rocket； which
will go up in the air； bust； and assume the shape of a serpint。〃
He applied a match to the rocket； but instead of going up in the
air； it flew wildly down into the grass； running some distance
with a hissing kind of sound； and causing the masses to jump
round in a very insane manner。
Pettingill was disappointed； but not disheartened。 He tried
again。
〃The next fireworks；〃 he said； 〃will go up in the air； bust； and
become a beautiful revolvin' wheel。〃
But alas！ it didn't。 It only ploughed a little furrow in the
green grass； like its unhappy predecessor。
The masses laughed at this； and one mana white…haired old
villagersaid； kindly but firmly； 〃Reuben； I'm 'fraid you don't
understand pyrotechny。〃
Reuben was amazed。 Why did his rockets go down instead of up？
But； perhaps； the others would be more successful； and； with a
flushed face； and in a voice scarcely as firm as before； he said：
〃The next specimen of pyrotechny will go up in the air； bust； and
become an eagle。 Said eagle will soar away into the western
skies； leavin' a red trail behind him as he so soars。〃
But； alas！ again。 No eagle soared； but； on the contrary； that
ordinary proud bird buried its head in the grass。
The people were dissatisfied。 They made sarcastic remarks。 Some
of them howled angrily。 The aged man who had before spoken said；
〃No； Reuben； you evidently don't understand pyrotechny。〃
Pettingill boiled with rage and disappointment。
〃You don't understand pyrotechny！〃 the masses shouted。
Then they laughed in a disagreeable manner； and some unfeeling
lads threw dirt at our hero。
〃You don't understand pyrotechny！〃 the masses yelled again。
〃Don't I？〃 screamed Pettingill； wild with rage； 〃don't you think
I do？〃
Then seizing several gigantic rockets he placed them over a box
of powder； and touched the whole off。
THIS rocket went up。 It did； indeed。
There was a terrific explosion。
No one was killed； fortunately； though many were injured。
The platform was almost torn to pieces。
But proudly erect among the falling timbers stood Pettingill； his
face flashing with wild triumph； and he shouted： 〃If I'm any
judge of pyrotechny； THAT rocket has went off。〃
Then seeing that all the fingers on his right hand had been taken
close off in the explosion； he added： 〃And I ain't so dreadful
certain but four of my fingers has went off with it； because I
don't see 'em here now！〃
3。9。 THE LAST OF THE CULKINSES。
A DUEL IN CLEVELANDDISTANCE TEN PACESBLOODY RESULTFLIGHT OF
ONE OF THE PRINCIPALSFULL PARTICULARS。
A few weeks since a young Irishman name Culkins wandered into
Cleveland from New York。 He had been in America only a short
time。 He overflowed with book learning； but was mournfully
ignorant of American customs； and as innocent and confiding
withal as the Babes in the Wood。 He talked much of his family；
their commanding position in Connaught； Ireland； their immense
respectability； their chivalry； and all that sort of thing。 He
was the only representative of that mighty race in this country。
〃I'm the last of the Culkinses！〃 he would frequently say； with a
tinge of romantic sadness； meaning； we suppose； that he would be
the last when the elder Culkins （in the admired language of the
classics） 〃slipped his wind。〃 Young Culkins proposed to teach
Latin； Greek； Spanish； Fardown Irish； and perhaps Choctaw； to
such youths as desired to become thorough linguists。 He was not
very successful in this line； and concluded to enter the office
of a prominent law firm on Superior Street as a student。 He dove
among the musty and ponderous volumes with all the enthusiasm of
a wild young Irishman； and commenced cramming his head with law
at a startling rate。 He lodged in the back…room of the office；
and previous to retiring he used to sing the favorite ballads of
his own Emerald Isle。 The boy who was employed in the office
directly across the hall used to go to the Irishman's door and
stick his ear to the key…hole with a view to drinking in the
gushing melody by the quart or perhaps pailful。 This vexed Mr。
Culkins； and considerably marred the pleasure of the thing； as
witness the following：
〃O come to me when daylight sets。
＇What yez doing at that door； yer dd spalpane？＇
Sweet； then come to me！
＇I'll twist the nose off yez presently； me honey！＇
When softly glide our gondolettes
＇Bedad； I'll do murther to yez； young gintlemin！＇
O'er the moonlit sea。〃
Of course； this couldn't continue。 This； in short； was rather
more than the blood of the Culkinses could stand； so the young
man； through whose veins such a powerful lot of that blood
courses； sprang to the door； seized the eavesdropping boy； drew
him within； and commenced to severely chastise him。 The boy's
master； the gentleman who occupied the office across the hall；
here interfered； pulled Mr。 Culkins off； thrust him gently
against the wall； and slightly choked him。 Mr。 Culkins bottled
his furious wrath for that night； but in the morning he uncorked
it and threatened the gentleman （whom for convenience sake we
will call Smith） with all sorts of vengeance。 He obtained a
small horsewhip and tore furiously through the town； on the
lookout for Smith。
He sent Smith a challenge； couched in language so scathingly hot
that it burnt holes through the paper； and when it reached Smith
it was riddled like an old…fashioned milk…strainer。 No notice
was taken of the challenge； and Culkins' wrath became absolutely
terrific。 He wrote handbills； which he endeavoured to have
printed； posting Smith as a coward。 He wrote a communication for
the 〃New Herald；〃 explaining the whole matter。 （This wasn't very
rich； we expect。） He urged us to publish his challenge to Smith。
Somebody told him that Smith was intending to flee the city in
fear on an afternoon train； and Culkins proceeded to the depot；
horsewhip in hand； to lie in wait for him。 This was Saturday
last。 During the afternoon Smith concluded to accept the
challenge。 Seconds and a surgeon were selected； and we are
mortified to state that at 10 o'clock in the evening Scanton's
Bottom was desecrated with a regular duel。 The frantic glee of
Culkins when he learned his challenge had been accepted can't be
described。 Our pen can't do ita pig…pen couldn't。 He wrote a
long letter to his uncle in New York； and to his father in
Connaught。 At about ten o'clock the party proceeded to the
field。 The moon was not up； the darkness was dense； the ground
was unpleasantly moist； and the lights of the town； which gleamed
in the distance； only made the scene more desolate and dreary。
The ground was paced off and the men arranged。 While this was
being done； the surgeon； by the light of a dark lantern； arranged
his instruments； which consisted of 1 common hand…saw； 1 hatchet；
1 butcher knife； a large variety of smaller knives； and a small
mountain of old rag。 Neither of the principals exhibited any
fear。 Culkins insisted that； as the challenging party； he had
the right to the word fire。