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Updated: May 4, 2025
But, oh! the 'orrible, 'ideous feeling of 'aving stuck something into live flesh! Sick and giddy, the heroine shut her eyes, seeing behind their lids wondrous phantasmagoria of coloured pyrotechny, rivalling the most marvellous triumphs of the magician Brock....
Then they laughed in a disagreeable manner, and some unfeeling lads threw dirt at our hero. "You don't understand pyrotechny!" the masses yelled again. "Don't I?" screamed Pettingill, wild with rage; "don't you think I do?" Then seizing several gigantic rockets he placed them over a box of powder, and touched the whole off. THIS rocket went up. It did, indeed. There was a terrific explosion.
It was while he was conducting this campaign that the Doge Marcantonio Giustinian died, and Morosoni being elected in his place was crowned on his battleship at Porto Porro in Cephalonia. The carousals of the army and navy lasted for three days, at the new Doge's cost, the resources of the fleet having no difficulty in running to every kind of pageantry and pyrotechny.
No eagle soared, but, on the contrary, that ordinary proud bird buried its head in the grass. The people were dissatisfied. They made sarcastic remarks. Some of them howled angrily. The aged man who had before spoken said, "No, Reuben, you evidently don't understand pyrotechny." Pettingill boiled with rage and disappointment. "You don't understand pyrotechny!" the masses shouted.
Is it not as if one should have, through majestic powers of science, the comets given into his hand, or the planets and their moons, and should draw them from their orbits to glare with the municipal fireworks on a holiday night, and advertise in all towns, "Very superior pyrotechny this evening"? Are the agents of nature, and the power to understand them, worth no more than a street serenade, or the breath of a cigar?
Is it not as if one should have, through majestic powers of science, the comets given into his hand, or the planets and their moons, and should draw them from their orbits to glare with the municipal fireworks on a holiday night, and advertise in all towns, "very superior pyrotechny this evening!"
Having seen Venetian pyrotechny, one realizes that all fireworks should be ignited over water. It is the only way. A rocket can climb as fiercely and dazzlingly into any sky, no doubt, but over land the falling stars and sparks have but one existence; over water, like the swan "on St. Mary's lake," they have two. The displays last for nearly an hour, and consist almost entirely of rockets.
On public days there are fireworks provided by the priests; they are kept in the church till the time comes, and then touched off in front of the building, with very limited success, by the sacristan. And strangest of all, at the final puff and bang of each remarkable piece of pyrotechny, the bells ring out just the same sudden clang which marks the agonizing moment of the Elevation of the Host.
No one was killed, fortunately; though many were injured. The platform was almost torn to pieces. But proudly erect among the falling timbers stood Pettingill, his face flashing with wild triumph; and he shouted: "If I'm any judge of pyrotechny, THAT rocket has went off."
"Them stuffs," remarked Hockins, who sat luxuriously in an arm-chair smoking a short pipe for he had unfortunately obtained tobacco since arriving at the capital! "Them stuffs are apt to cause surprisin' effects w'en properly mixed." "Just so. That is my reason for sending for them. I shall create some surprising effects if my old cunning in pyrotechny has not forsaken me.
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