Grandma had promised the children a Fourth of July story, and Bobby and Alice and Pink drew up their stools and waited eagerly for her to begin.
“Father was going to take us to Clayville to the Fourth of July celebration,” Grandma began. “We were all going except Mother and Nanny Dodds, who was helping us over hay harvest. I had been to Clayville once before.
“‘But that time it was on just a common everyday day,’ as I told Nanny. ‘This will be different.’
“We were to start early—early in the morning—for Clayville was twelve miles away and we did not want to miss a single thing.
“First there would be a parade with two brass bands, then ‘speaking’ on the courthouse steps, and after that an ox roast. In the afternoon there were to be horse races and games. Father promised that we should have supper at the hotel and stay for the fireworks in the evening. I had never seen even a firecracker, and I looked forward to seeing the skyrockets most of all.
“I was to wear a new light calico dress with a little blue flower in it and a blue sash and my ruffled white sunbonnet that was kept for Sundays. I talked so much about going that Mother and my sisters and every one else except Nanny grew dreadfully tired listening to me and begged me to talk of something else.
“Nanny was twenty and bashful and as homely as could be, but I loved her very much. When she made cookies she put a raisin in the center of some of them, and others she sprinkled with sugar. And she made gingerbread men with currant eyes and baked saucer pies and let me scrape the cake bowl. She sewed for my doll and bound up my hurt fingers tenderly and told the nicest stories. There was no end to the things Nanny did for me, but I liked the stories best of all.
“The day before the Fourth, when I sat on the edge of the kitchen table watching Nanny beat eggs for the sponge cake and talking about what I should see the next day, Nanny said in a wistful voice, ‘I’ve never been to Clayville. I always thought I’d like to go, but I never had a chance.’
“I’ve never been to Clayville,” said Nanny, wistfully
“This set me thinking. Soon I slid off the table and went in search of Mother. I found her at the spring-house churning.
“‘Mother,’ I said, ‘let’s take Nanny with us tomorrow.’
“‘I’m afraid there isn’t room,’ Mother answered regretfully. ‘There are already five of you, and the surrey is old and not strong.’
“‘Nanny doesn’t weigh much,’ I argued.
“‘I know, dear, but Father is afraid to load the surrey any heavier for fear you’d break down and not get to town at all. I have told Nanny she may go home to see her mother tomorrow.’
“All the rest of the morning I sat under the apple tree in the side yard, thinking. Once when Charlie came through the yard with a jug to fill with water for the men in the hayfield I called him over. Maybe he might offer to let Nanny go in his place. To be sure, I hadn’t much hope of this, but still it was worth trying.
“‘Charlie,’ I said, ‘I think Nanny would like to go to the Fourth of July celebration.’
“‘Sure, who wouldn’t?’ he replied easily. ‘I want to go myself,’ and he went on to the well.
“I tried sister Belle next. I found her picking chickens in the orchard and offered to help. Then presently I suggested to her that she could go to Clayville with the Strangs’, since their surrey would not be crowded as ours would, and then Nanny could go with us. She only laughed scornfully and made me finish picking the chicken I had started.
“I went sadly back to the apple tree.
“‘Nanny wants to go,’ I thought to myself, ‘and I want to go, too, but if I stay at home Nanny could go in my place. It would be a sacrifice,’ I sighed deeply. ‘Preacher Hill says a sacrifice is giving up something you want yourself. I want to go more than I ever wanted anything, but I have lots of things Nanny doesn’t have. I have curly hair and Nanny’s hair is straight. I can read and Nanny can’t. I’ve seen the train and had my dinner at a hotel. I’ve traveled and Nanny’s never been farther from home than Mt. Zion Church.’
“That night after I had said my prayers I put my arms around my Mother’s neck and whispered, ‘Mother, I want Nanny to go in my place tomorrow.’
“‘Why, dear!’ Mother started to protest. But after looking earnestly into my face she said, ‘Do you really want to stay at home and let Nanny go in your place? You must be very, very sure, you know.’
“‘I’m sure, Mother,’ I declared solemnly. ‘Yes, I’m sure I want her to go.’
“‘Well, sleep on it, and if you feel the same in the morning you shall stay with Mother and Nanny may go.’
“I wakened at daylight to find Mother standing beside my bed.
“‘Are you awake, Sarah?’ she asked. ‘They are all up but you.’
“I sat up in bed dazed. I could hear the girls rushing around in their room. From the kitchen came the rattle of dishes and out in the barn the boys were whistling. Suddenly I remembered. It was the Fourth of July!
“‘I haven’t changed my mind, Mother,’ I said yawning sleepily.
“Mother bent down and kissed me before going to tell Nanny. At first Nanny would not hear of it and left off getting breakfast to come and tell me so. I pretended to be too sleepy to talk, so Nanny, urged by Mother, finally went away to get ready, and Mother went down to finish getting the breakfast.
“But I wasn’t a bit sleepy a little later when I jumped out of bed to watch them start.
“Father and Aggie sat on the front seat of the surrey, and Belle, Nanny, and Charlie on the back seat, while Joe, Stanley, and Truman rode horseback. They all looked very fine and grand to me dressed in their best clothes, and I choked back a sob as they drove down the road and out of sight.
“All morning I helped Mother. I did lots of things the girls wouldn’t let me do when they were doing the work. I dried the dishes and fed the chickens and dusted the sitting room and scrubbed the walks.
“Then Mother and I had our lunch out under the apple tree in the side yard—some of everything the girls had put in their lunch basket—fried chicken and sponge cake and green-apple pie. My, but it tasted good! In the afternoon Mother made my doll a new dress, and we went together to hunt the little turkeys and get the cows.
“It was awfully late when the folks got back, but I sat up in bed to see them. Every one of them had brought me something. Spread out on the bed were a flag and a bag of peanuts, a pewter tea set from Father, a sticky popcorn ball, and a sack of peppermint lozenges, but the nicest of all was when Nanny gave me a hug and whispered, ‘I had the grandest time of my life, Sarah, and I reckon it’ll take me a month to tell you about all the things I saw.’
“Now, let me think! What in the world will I tell you about tomorrow night? Oh, I know, but I won’t tell.”