ALL ON A FIFTH OF NOVEMBER
all danced whilst their mother played a hornpipe —and really it was very difficult to guess Father's years, they might have been anything!
Then he suddenly ran out. There was a rush to the window, the blind was drawn up, and soon, in the darkness of the night, a grand catharine-wheel was seen whizzing round in a blaze of dripping fire. Then such a glorious shoot of rockets arose! Whish ! bang ! whish ! bang ! they went as they burst, each of them, into a shower of gorgeous stars all purple, and green, and gold.
" A—a—h !" exclaimed the three children, gazing with rapture. And—
" A—a—h !" they repeated over and over and over again, as splendour followed splendour, and the sky was powdered again and again with sparks of coloured fire.