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Updated: May 28, 2025
He was called Trouble, for the reason I have told you, though Mother Martin called him "Dear Trouble" to make up for the fun Ted and Jan sometimes poked at him. Then there was Nora Jones, the maid who helped Mrs. Martin with the cooking and housework. And I must not forget Skyrocket, a dog, nor Turnover, a cat.
Two stiff, sleepy, disgusted boys sat up in their nest of blankets and looked at each other through the framework of the Skyrocket next morning at something like seven o'clock. "And you said you wouldn't go to sleep," each said slowly and accusingly to the other, then both grinned sheepishly. "Oh, well, the machine's still here, so why grouch over a couple hours' sleep?" Tod defended.
"The heavenly thing is the way you are enjoying it yourself. I never saw a girl light up a whole room before. You throw out stars as you dance." "That's like a skyrocket," Robin laughed back. "And it's because in all my life I never went to a dance before." "Never! You mean except to children's parties?" "There were no children's parties. This is the first first first."
He walked over to the charred and twisted remains of the Skyrocket, fighting down his strong impulse to pry into the thing and see if he could discover the secret of its astounding exploits before the crash came. It did not take more than the most fleeting glance to see, even with his limited knowledge of flying machines, that this one was very much different from the others.
Look at the thirty-six district leaders of Tammany Hall today. How many of them travel on their tongues? Maybe one or two, and they don't count when business is doin' at Tammany Hall. The men who rule have practiced keepin' their tongues still, not exercisin' them. So you want to drop the orator idea unless you mean to go into politics just to perform the skyrocket act.
Ha!" laughed Uncle Wiggily. "They will have a hard time doing that, for my tail is so short that the boys would burn their fingers if they tried to tie a firecracker to it." "Then look out that they don't fasten a skyrocket to your long ears," said the second cousin to Grandfather Prickly Porcupine, as he wrapped up some lettuce and carrot sandwiches for Uncle Wiggily to take with him.
On the second night after the massacre I was taken to Woodsdale by about twenty of the Woodsdale boys, who came after me. We arrived at Woodsdale about daybreak next morning. In our night trip we could see the skyrocket signals used by the Robinson-Cook gang.
"It sounds sorta mushy, doesn't it, Mrs. Gillis," said Davy, interrupting the recital. "Kind of a Pollyanna tale with a Horatio Alger finish. But in none of his stories did Alger ever portray a tougher background or give it a bigger skyrocket finish. Just think of it, Mrs. Gillis!
Well, you'd best tell that same little busy-bee where your father can be found. And the telegrams; don't forget them." "I won't," answered Tod, starting off toward town on the run. "Watch the old Skyrocket till I get back, will you, Jerry?" and he was gone.
"Dad thinks as much of him as he does of me." "Well, I'll be off," said Jerry hurriedly. "Tell your father I'll see him either to-night or early in the morning and that I've got something important to tell him." "About the Skyrocket?" demanded Tod eagerly, but Jerry only shook his head teasingly and began to hurry across the fields and woods to the interurban tracks.
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