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ISAAC!” said Mrs. Partington,
rapping on the
window, as she saw the
boy in the act of putting
half a bunch of crackers
into the pocket of a countryman
who stood viewing
the procession. The
caution came too late,
and the individual was
astonished! Isaac had
stepped inside the door
to await the explosion,
and the old lady met him in the entry. “O, you spirit
of mischief!” cried she, “what will become of you if you
go on in this way? Is this all your idees of liberty and
regeneration, that you must fill that poor man's pockets
with your crackers? Do you suppose this was all that
the days of 7 by 6 was made for? I should think you
would be ashamed to look upon your Uncle Paul's picter
there, and hide your face in conclusion, arter behaving
so! Ah!” she mused, “how different boys are now
from what they used to be! — so wild, so rakeless and
tricky” — (crack!) — “what 's that? I should like to
know who fired that. It was a great piece of impudence” —
(crack!) — “goodness gracious! somebody

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must be throwin' 'em into the windows.” She ran to
look out. Not a soul was near that could have done it.
Crack! another explosion at her feet, and she looked
round. Isaac sat demurely eating some gingerbread by
the table, but said nothing. There was an expression
about his mouth which looked torpedoish, and for a moment
she mistrusted him; but he could n't have done it,
he was so quiet, and she shut the window that opened
upon the street, to prevent their throwing in any more.