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"Old Stick!" said the Rocket, "impossible!

Gold Stick, that is what he said.

Gold Stick is very complimentary.

In fact, he mistakes me for one of the Court dignitaries!"

"Let us put it into the fire!" said the other boy, "it will help to boil the kettle."

So they piled the faggots together, and put the Rocket on top, and lit the fire.

"This is magnificent," cried the Rocket, "they are going to let me off in broad day-light, so that every one can see me."

"We will go to sleep now," they said, "and when we wake up the kettle will be boiled"; and they lay down on the grass, and shut their eyes.

The Rocket was very damp, so he took a long time to burn.

At last, however, the fire caught him.

"Now I am going off!" he cried, and he made himself very stiff and straight.

"I know I shall go much higher than the stars, much higher than the moon, much higher than the sun.

In fact, I shall go so high that?"

Fizz! Fizz! Fizz! and he went straight up into the air.

"Delightful!" he cried, "I shall go on like this for ever.

What a success I am!"

But nobody saw him.

Then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him.

"Now I am going to explode," he cried.

"I shall set the whole world on fire, and make such a noise that nobody will talk about anything else for a whole year."

And he certainly did explode.

Bang! Bang! Bang! went the gunpowder.

There was no doubt about it.

But nobody heard him, not even the two little boys, for they were sound asleep.

Then all that was left of him was the stick, and this fell down on the back of a Goose who was taking a walk by the side of the ditch.