“O, dear!” said Mrs. Partington, stretching herself
on her toes to get a better look at the fireworks. “I
always wish I was seven foot tall at times like this.”

“And I wish I was nine foot,” said the little woman
before her, spitefully.

“How I hate to see people so selfish! don't you, Mrs.
Brown?” whispered Mrs. Partington to her neighbor.
“There — there — they are touching off the volcano, I
vow!” said Mrs. P.; “now look and see if the burning
lather runs down the hill this way!”

And the old lady looked anxiously toward the Park.

p677-387

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