  O NE night the Brownies reached a mound That rose above the country round. Said one, as seated on the place He glanced about with thoughtful face: "If almanacs have matters right The Fourth begins at twelve to-night,— A fitting time for us to fill Yon cannon there and shake the hill, And make the people all about Think war again has broken out. I know where powder may be found Both by the keg and by the pound; Men use it in a tunnel near For blasting purposes, I hear. To get supplies all hands will go, And when we come we'll not be slow To teach the folks the proper way To honor Independence Day." It was not long till powder came. Then from the muzzle broke the flame, And echo answered to the sound That startled folk for miles around. 'Twas lucky for the Brownies' Band They were not of the mortal brand, Or half the crew would have been hurled In pieces to another world. For when at last the cannon roared, So huge the charge had Brownies poured, The metal of the gun rebelled And threw all ways the load it held. The pieces clipped the daisy-heads And tore the tree-tops into shreds. But Brownies are not slow to spy A danger, as are you and I. For they through strange and mystic art Observed it as it flew apart, And ducked and dodged and flattened out, To shun the fragments flung about. Some rogues were lifted from their feet And, turning somersaults complete, Like leaves went twirling through the air But only to receive a scare; And ere the smoke away had cleared In forest shade they disappeared. |
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