FIGHTING TOOTH AND NAIL. PAGE 156. 
 [Frmtujiect.1
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES 
 
 A. TALE OF THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 
 
 BY R. M. BALLANTYNE, 
 
 IUTHOR OK "GIANT OF THE NORTH;" "POST HASTE;" "IN THE TRACK or THK 
 
 TROOPS ; " " THE SETTLER AND THE SAVAGE J " " UNDER THE WAVES ; " " RIVERS 
 
 OF ICE;" "BLACK IVORY;" "THE PIRATB CITY;" "ERLINO THE BOLD;" 
 
 "THE NORSEMEN IN THE WEST;" "THE FLOATING LIGHT;" "THB 
 
 IRON HORSE;" " SHIFTING WINDS ;" "DEEP DOWN;" "THE 
 
 LIGHTHOUSE ;" " THE LIFEBOAT ;" "OASCOVNE;" 
 
 "TUB GOLDEN DREAM," ETC. ETC. 
 
 Hith Illuatrnttona. 
 
 TWENTY-FOVHTH THOUSAND. 
 
 LONDON: 
 JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNERS STREET. 
 
 [All rights rettrved.]
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THIS book is a tale a story a work of fiction 
 founded on facts. 
 
 In the fabrication of it my chief aim has been to 
 convey a correct general idea of the working of the 
 London Fire Brigade, without attempting to ex- 
 pound that brigade in its uttermost details. 
 
 If, in this effort, I have been in any degree 
 successful, much of my success is due to Captain 
 E. M. Shaw, chief officer of the Metropolitan Fire 
 Brigade ; to Sampson Low, Esq., Secretary to the 
 London Fire-Escape Society, and to those officers 
 and men of both brigades who have afforded me 
 every facility and opportunity for acquiring infor- 
 mation and attending fires to all of whom I now 
 tender my best thanks for their kindness and 
 courtesy. 
 
 R M. B. 
 
 EDINBURGH, 1867. 
 
 :049865
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 FA at. 
 CHAP, i. SHOWS HOW THE FIGHT BEGAN, AND WHO BEGAN IT, 1 
 
 II. INTRODUCES ANOTHER LITTLE "SPARK" TO THE 
 
 READER, 16 
 
 HlXFIRE! ! ! .' 25 
 
 IV. TELLS OF A FIERCE FIGHT WITH THE FLAMES, . . 38 
 
 V. SHOWS HOW WILLIE WILLDERS GOT INVOLVED IN DOUBLE 
 
 DIFFICULTIES, TO HIS INTENSE DELIGHT, . . 53 
 
 VI. TREATS OF THE DIFFICULT QUESTION, " WHEN ONE IS 
 
 ANOTHER, WHO IS WHICH ? " 64 
 
 VII. INTRODUCES NEW CHARACTERS, AND EXHIBITS THE 
 THOUGHTS THAT SOME WOMEN ENTERTAIN IN REGARD 
 
 TO MEN, 70 
 
 VIIL DISCLOSES A HIDDEN FIRE, WHfCH IS SUPPOSED TO BE 
 UNEXTINGUISHABLE, AND REVEALS SOME STRANGE 
 TIPPLING PROPENSITIES, ETC., .... 86 
 
 IX. WHEREIN WILL BE FOUND REFERENCE TO AUCTIONS 
 
 AND GYMNASTICS, 97 
 
 X. IN WHICH DIFFICULTIES AND DISSIPATIONS ARE 
 
 TREATED OF, . ' . . . . . . . 109 
 
 XL TELLS OF A STRANGE CHARACTER, AND OF WONDER- 
 FUL PLANS THAT CANNOT BE BRIEFLY DESCRIBED, 126 
 XH. GIVES A LITTLE DOMESTIC CHIT-CHAT, MINGLED WITH 
 
 ALARMS, 140 
 
 Xm. IN WHICH SOME RATHER WILD DOINGS AND DARING 
 DEEDS WILL BE FOUND ; ALSO SOME CURIOUS ECCEN- 
 TRICITIES, 150 
 
 XIV. TELLS OF JOE CORNEY'8 ADVENTURE WITH GHOSTS, . 163 
 XV. RECOUNTS A VISIT PAID BY WILLIE WILLDERS, WHICH 
 
 SHOWS HIM A NEW PHASE OF LIFE, .... 174
 
 \ri CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 XVI. IN WHICH WILLIE WILLDERS COMES OUT IN QUITE A 
 
 NEW LIGHT, 185 
 
 XVII. PRESENTS TWO GLIMPSES OF HOME LIFE, . . .196 
 
 x VTII. IN WHICH JOE CORNEY IS ASKED FOR ADVICE BY AN 
 OLD LADY, AND GIVES HER MUCH MORE THAN SHE 
 
 EXPECTED, 206 
 
 XIX. SHOWS HOW DARK PLOTS ARE HATCHED, . . . 217 
 
 XX. WHEREIN THE TEMPTER DOES A LITTLE MORE IN THE 
 
 HATCHING WAY, 232 
 
 XX I. -DESCRIBES A SMALL TEA-PARTY 244 
 
 XXII. GIVES ANOTHER PHASE OF A FIREMAN'S LIFE, AND 
 
 WINDS UP WITH A CRASH, 263 
 
 XXIII. IN WHICH MR. JAMES AUBERLY COMES OUT IN SEVERAL 
 
 ENTIRELY NEW CHARACTERS, 273 
 
 XXIV. REVEALS A REMARKABLE CHANGE IN THE PROSPECTS 
 
 AND FORTUNES OF DAVID BOONE, .... 292 
 XXV. RECORDS CHANGES AND MYSTERIES MORE OR LESS UN- 
 FATHOMABLE, 301 
 
 XXVI. SHOWS WHAT DRINK WILL DO FOR A MAN, AND WHAT 
 
 A MAN WILL DO FOR DRINK, . 317 
 
 XXVII. IN WHICH A STRONG LIGHT IS THROWN ON AN OLD 
 
 PLOT, 328 
 
 XXVIII. WHEREIN SOME OLD FRIENDS ARE FOUND AT THE POST 
 OF DUTY AS USUAL, AND DESPAIR IS FOLLOWED IN 
 ONE INSTANCE BY MADNESS, 339 
 
 XXLX. SHOWS HOW WILLIE WILLDERS IN HIS DIFFICULTIES 
 
 SOUGHT COUNSEL OF MR. TIPPET, .... 354 
 
 XXX. ILLUSTRATES THE PROVERB THAT THE BEST-LAID 
 
 PLANS WILL SOMETIMES MISCARRY, . . . .361 
 
 XXXI. IN WHICH CHANGES OF FORTUNE OCCUR AND NEW 
 
 LIGHTS OF VARIOUS KINDS ARISE, . . . .373 
 
 XXXII. TELLS OF THE GREAT FIRE IN TOOLEY STREET, AND OP 
 
 WHAT BEFEL SOME OF THE PERSONAGES OF OUR TALE, 388 
 XXXIII. -THE LAST, ... .411
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FIGHTING TOOTH AND NAIL, .... Frontispiece. 
 VIGNETTE TITLE-PAGE. 
 
 HOPfclNS GIVES "A CALL," PAGE 26 
 
 WILLIE ANNOUNCES "A FIRE," . . 88 
 
 TAKING TEA WITH A FAIRY, ..... 192 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR, 343
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES: 
 
 A TALE OF THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 
 CHAPTEE L 
 
 SHOWS HOW THE FIGHT BEGAN, AND WHO BEGAN IT. 
 
 ONE'S own fireside is, to all well-regulated minds, 
 a pleasant subject of contemplation when one is 
 absent, and a source of deep gratification when 
 present. 
 
 Especially may this be said to be the case in a 
 cold, raw night in November, when mankind has a 
 tendency to become chronically cross out of doors, 
 and nature, generally, looks lugubrious ; for, just in 
 proportion as the exterior world grows miserably 
 chill, the world " at home," with its blazing gas, its 
 drawn curtains, its crackling fires, and its beaming 
 smiles, becomes doubly comfortable and cosy. 
 
 Even James Auberly, pompous, stern, and un- 
 genial though he was, appeared to entertain some 
 such thoughts, as he sat by his own fireside, one 
 A
 
 FIGHTING THF. FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 such night, in his elegant mansion in Beverly Square. 
 Euston Road, London, and smiled grimly over the 
 top of the Times newspaper at the fire. 
 
 Mr. Auberly always smiled when he conde- 
 . scended to smile grimly. He seldom laughed ; 
 when he did so he did it grimly too. In fact, he 
 was a grim man altogether ; a gaunt, cadaverous, 
 tall, careworn, middle-aged man, also a great one. 
 There could be no question as to that ; for, besides 
 being possessed of wealth, which, in the opinion of 
 some minds, constitutes greatness, he was chairman 
 of a railway company, and might have changed situa- 
 tions with the charwoman who attended the head- 
 office of the same without much difference being 
 felt He v r as also a director of several other com - 
 panics, which, fortunately for them, did not appear 
 to require much direction in the conduct of their 
 affairs. 
 
 Mr. Auberly was also leader of the fashion, in 
 his own circle, and an oracle among his own para- 
 sites ; but, strange to say, he was nobody whatever 
 in any other sphere. Cabmen, it is true, appeared 
 to have an immense respect for him on first ac- 
 quaintance, for his gold rings and chains bespoke 
 wealth, and he was a man of commanding presence, 
 but their respect never outlived a first engagement. 
 Cabmen seldom touched their hats to Mr. Auberly 
 on receiving their fare ; they often parted from him
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 3 
 
 with a smile as grim as his own, and once a pecu- 
 liarly daring member of the fraternity was heard 
 blandly to request him to step again into the cab, 
 and he would drive him the "nine hundred and 
 ninety-ninth part of a inch that was still doo on the 
 odd sixpence." That generous man even went further, 
 and, when his fare walked away without making a 
 reply, he shouted after him that " if he 'd only do 'im 
 the honour to come back, he 'd throw in a inch an' 
 a half extra for nothink." But Mr. Auberly was 
 inexorable. 
 
 *' Louisa, dear," said Mr. Auberly, recovering from 
 the grim smile which had indicated his appreciation 
 of his own fireside, "pour me out another cup of 
 coffee, and then you had better run away to bed. It 
 is getting late." 
 
 " Yes, papa," replied a little dark- eyed, dark-haired 
 girl, laying down her book and jumping up to obey 
 the command. 
 
 It may be added that she was also dark-dressed, 
 for Mr. Auberly had become a widower and his 
 child motherless only six months before. 
 
 While Louisa was pouring out the coffee, her 
 father rose and turned his back to the fire. 
 
 It was really interesting, almost awe-inspiring, to 
 behold Mr. Auberly rise ; he was so very tall, and 
 so exceedingly straight. So remarkably perpen- 
 dicular was he, so rigidly upright, that a hearty but
 
 4 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 somewhat rude sea-captain, with whom he once had 
 business transactions, said to his mate on one occa- 
 sion that he believed Mr. Auberly must have been 
 born with a handspike lashed to his backbone. 
 Yes, he was wonderfully upright, and it would have 
 been downright madness to have doubted the up- 
 rightness of the spirit which dwelt in such a body ; 
 so nobody did doubt it, of course, except a few jaun- 
 diced and sceptical folk, who never could be got to 
 believe anything. 
 
 " Good-night, my love," said Mr. Auberly, as the 
 child placed the coffee beside his chair, and then 
 advanced, somewhat timidly, and held up her cheek 
 to be kissed. 
 
 The upright man stooped, and there was a shade 
 less of grimness in his smile as his lips touched his 
 daughter's pale cheek 
 
 Louisa, or, to use the name by which she was better 
 known in the house, Loo, had clasped her hands 
 tightly together while she was in the act of receiv- 
 ing this tribute of parental affection, as if she were 
 struggling to crush down some feeling, but the feel- 
 ing, whatever it was, would not be crushed down ; it 
 rose up and asserted itself by causing Loo to burst 
 into a passionate flood of tears, throw her arms 
 round her father's neck, and hold him tight there 
 while she kissed his cheek all over. 
 
 'Tut. tut, child!' exclaimed Mr. Auberly, en-
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 5 
 
 deavouring to re- arrange the stiff collar and cravat, 
 which had been sadly disordered ; " you must really 
 try to get over these there, don't be cast down," 
 he added, in a kinder tone, patting Loo's head. 
 " Good-night, dear ; run away to bed now, and be a 
 good girl." 
 
 Loo smiled faintly through her tears as she looked 
 up at her father, who had again become upright, 
 said " Good-night," and ran from the room with a 
 degree of energy that might have been the result of 
 exjLtberant spirits though, possibly, it was caused 
 by some other feeling. 
 
 Mr. Auberly sat for some time, dividing his atten- 
 tions pretty equally between the paper, the fire, and 
 the coffee, until he recollected having received a 
 letter that day which he had forgotten to answer, 
 whereupon he rose and sat down before his writing- 
 table to reply. 
 
 The letter was from a poor widow, a sister-in-law 
 of his own, who had disgraced herself for ever at 
 least in Mr. Auberly's eyes by having married a 
 waterman. Mr. Auberly shut his eyes obstinately 
 to the fact that the said waterman had, by the sheer 
 force of intelligence, good conduct, courage, and per- 
 severance, raised himself to the command of an East 
 Indiaman. It is astonishing how firmly some people 
 can shut their eyes sew them up, as it were, and 
 plaster them over to some things, and how easily
 
 6 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OP 
 
 they can open them to others ! Mr. Auberly's eyes 
 were open only to the fact that his sister-in-law had 
 married a waterman, and that that was an unpardon- 
 able sin, for which she was for ever banished from 
 the sunshine of his presence. 
 
 The widow's letter set forth that since her hus- 
 band's death she had been in somewhat poor circum- 
 stances though not in absolute poverty for which 
 she expressed herself thankful ; that she did not 
 write to ask for money, but that she had a young 
 son a boy of about twelve whom she was very 
 anxious to get into a mercantile house of some sort, 
 and, knowing his great influence, etc. etc., she hoped 
 that, forgetting, if not forgiving, the past, now that 
 her husband was dead, he would kindly do what he 
 could, etc. etc. 
 
 To this Mr. Auberly replied that it was impos- 
 sible to forgive the past, but he would do his best to 
 forget it, and also to procure a situation for her son 
 (though certainly not in" his own office), on one con- 
 sideration, namely, that she, the widow, should forget 
 the past also including his own, Mr. Auberly's, 
 existence (as she had once before promised to do), 
 and that she should never inform her son, or any 
 other member of her family if there happened to 
 be any other members of it of the relationship 
 existing between them, nor apply to him by visit or 
 by letter for any farther favours. In the event of
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 7 
 
 her agreeing to this arrangement, she might send 
 her son to his residence in Beverly Square, on Thurs- 
 day next, between eleven and twelve. 
 
 Just as he concluded this letter, a footman en- 
 tered softly and laid a three-cornered note on the 
 table. 
 
 " Stay, Hopkins, I want you," said Mr. Auberly, 
 as he opened the note and ran his eye over it. 
 
 Hopkins, who was clad in blue velvet and white 
 stockings, stood like a mute beside his master's 
 chair* He was very tall and very thin, and very 
 red in the nose. 
 
 " Is the young woman waiting, Hopkins ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; she 's in the lobby." 
 
 " Send her up." 
 
 In a few seconds Hopkins reopened the door, and 
 looked down with majestic condescension on a smart 
 young girl whom he ushered into the room. 
 
 " That will do ; you may go, stay, post this 
 letter. Come here, young woman." 
 
 The young woman, who was evidently a respect- 
 able servant-girl, approached with some timidity. 
 
 " Your name is Matty Merry on, I understand 
 (yes, sir), at least so your late mistress, Miss Tippet, 
 informs me. Pray, what does Matty stand for ? " 
 
 " Martha, sir." 
 
 "Well, Martha, Miss Tippet gives you a very 
 good character which is well, because I intend
 
 8 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 you to be servant to my child her maid ; but Miss 
 Tippet qualifies her remarks by saying that you are 
 a little careless in some things. What things are 
 you careless in ?" 
 
 " La ! sir ' 
 
 " You must not say ' La !' my girl," interrupted Mr. 
 Auberly, with a frown, " nor use exclamations of any 
 kind in my presence ; what are the ' some things' 
 referred to ?" 
 
 " Sure T don't know, sir," said the abashed Matty. 
 " I s'pose there 's a-many things I an't very good at ; 
 but, please sir, I don't mean to do nothin' wrong, 
 sir, T don't indeed; an' I'll try to serve you well, 
 sir, if it wor only to plaaze my missis, as I 'm leavin' 
 against my will, for I love my " 
 
 " There, that will do," said Mr. Auberly somewhat 
 sternly, as the girl appeared to be getting excited. 
 " King that bell ; now, go downstairs and Hopkins 
 will introduce you to my housekeeper, who will 
 explain your duties to you." 
 
 Hopkins entered and solemnly marched Martha 
 Merryon to the regions below. 
 
 Mr. Auberly locked away his papers, pulled out 
 his watch, wound it up, and then, lighting a bed- 
 room candle, proceeded with much gravity upstairs. 
 
 He was a very stately-looking man, and strikingly 
 dignified as he walked upstairs to his bedroom 
 slowly and deliberately, as though he were marching
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 9 
 
 at his own funeral to the tune of something even 
 deader than the " Dead March in SauL" 
 
 It is almost a violation of propriety to think of 
 Mr. Auberly doing such a very undignified thing as 
 " going to bed !" Yet truth requires us to tell that 
 he did it; that he undressed himself as other 
 mortals do ; that he clothed himself in the wonted 
 ghostly garment ; and that, when his head was last 
 seen in the act of closing the curtains around him 
 there was a conical white cap on it, tied with a 
 string" below the chin, and ornamented on the top 
 with a little tassel, which waggled as though it were 
 bidding a triumphant and final adieu to human 
 dignity ! 
 
 Half an hour later, Mrs. Rose, the housekeeper, 
 a matronly, good-looking woman, with very red 
 cheeks, was busy in the study explaining to Matty 
 Merryon her duties. She had already shown her all 
 over the house, and was now at the concluding 
 lesson. 
 
 "Look here now, Merryon," began the house- 
 keeper. 
 
 " Oh, plaaze, don't call me Merryon I an't used 
 to it. Call me Matty, do now !" 
 
 " Very well, Matty," continued Mrs. Eose, with a 
 smile, " I 've no objection ; you Irish are a strange 
 race ! Now, look here. This is master's study, and 
 mind, he 's very partikler dreadful partikler '"
 
 10 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 She paused and looked at her pupil, as if desirous 
 of impressing this point deeply on her memory. 
 
 " He don't like his papers or books touched ; not 
 even dusted ! So you '11 be careful not to dust 'em, 
 nor to touch 'em even so much as with your little 
 finger, for he likes to find 'em in the mornin' just as 
 he left 'em at night." 
 
 " Yes, Missis Eose," said Matty, who was evidently 
 giving up her whole soul to the instruction that was 
 being imparted. 
 
 " Now," continued the housekeeper, " the arranging 
 of this room will be your last piece of work at night. 
 You '11 just come in, rake out the grate, carry off 
 the ashes, lay the noo fire, put the matches handy 
 on the chimney-piece, look round to see that all's 
 right, and then turn off the gas. The master is a 
 early riser, and lights the fire his-self of a mornin'." 
 
 " Yes, 'm," said Matty, with a courtesy. 
 
 " Now, go and do it," said Mrs. Eose, " that I may 
 see you understand it. Begin with the grate an' 
 the ashes." 
 
 Matty, who was in truth an experienced maid-of- 
 all-work, began with alacrity to discharge the duties 
 of her new station. She carried off the ashes, and 
 returned with the materials for next day's fire in a 
 shovel Here she gave a slight indication of her 
 so-called carelessness (awkwardness would have 
 been more appropriate) by letting two or three
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 1 1 
 
 pieces of stick and a bit of coal fall on the carpet, 
 in her passage across the room. 
 
 " Be careful, Matty," said Mrs. Rose gently. ' It 's 
 all along owin' to haste. Take your time, an' you 
 won't do sitch things." 
 
 Matty apologized, picked up the materials, and 
 laid the fire. Then she took her apron and ap- 
 proached the writing-table, evidently with the in- 
 tention of taking the dust off the corners, but not 
 by any means intending to touch the books or 
 papers.. 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Mrs. Rose sternly. 
 
 Matty stopped with a guilty look. 
 
 ." Not a touch," said Mrs. Rose. 
 
 " Not even the idges, nor the legs ? " inquired the 
 pupil. 
 
 " Neither edges nor legs," said the instructor. 
 
 " Sure it could do no harm." 
 
 "Matty," said Mrs. Rose solemnly, "the great 
 thing that your countrywomen have to learn is 
 obedience." 
 
 " Thank 'ee, 'm," said Matty, who, being overawed 
 by the housekeeper's solemnity, felt confused, and 
 was uncertain whether the reference to her country- 
 women was complimentary or the reverse. 
 
 " Now," continued Mrs. Rose, " the matches." 
 
 Matty placed the box of matches on the chimney 
 piece.
 
 12 FIGHTING Tllrt FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Very well ; now you Ve got to look round to see 
 that all 's right." 
 
 Matty looked round on the dark portraits that 
 covered the walls (supposed to be ancestors), on the 
 shelves of books, great and small, new and old (sup- 
 posed to be read) ; on the vases, statuettes, chairs, 
 tables, desks, curtains, papers, etc. etc., and, being 
 utterly ignorant of what constituted right and what 
 wrong in reference to such things, finally turned her 
 eyes on Mrs. Eose with an innocent smile. 
 
 " Don't you see that the shutters are neither shut 
 nor barred, Matty ? " 
 
 She had not seen this, but she at once went and 
 closed and barred them, in which operation she 
 learned, first, that the bars refused to receive their 
 respective " catches " with unyielding obstinacy for 
 some time ; and, second, that they suddenly gave in 
 without rhyme or reason and pinched her fingers 
 severely. 
 
 " Now then, what next ? " inquired Mrs. Rose. 
 
 " Put out the gas," suggested Matty. 
 
 " And leave yourself in the dark !" said the house- 
 keeper, in a tone of playful irony. 
 
 " Ah ! sure, didn't I forgit the candle ! " 
 
 In order to rectify this oversight, Matty laid the 
 unlighted candle which she had brought with her 
 to the room on the writing-table, and going to the 
 chimney-piece, returned with the match-box.
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BKIGADE. 13 
 
 " Be careful now, Matty/' said Mrs. Rose earnestly. 
 " There 's nothink I 've sitch a fear of as fire. You 
 can't be too careful" 
 
 This remark made Matty, who was of an anxious 
 temperament, extremely nervous. She struck the 
 match hesitatingly, and lighted the candle shakily. 
 Of course it would not light (candles never do on 
 such occasions), and a long red-hot end of burnt 
 wood projected from the point of the match. 
 
 " Don't let the burnt end drop into the waste- 
 papei ^basket ! " exclaimed Mrs. Eose, in an unfor- 
 tunate moment. 
 
 " Where ?" exclaimed Matty, with a start that sent 
 the red-hot end into the centre of a mass of papers. 
 
 " There, just at your feet ; don't be so nervous, 
 girl ! " cried Mrs. Rose. 
 
 Matty, in her anxiety not to drop the match, at 
 once dropped it into the waste-paper basket, which 
 was instantly alight. A stamp of the foot might 
 have extinguished it, but this did not occur to either 
 of the domestics. The housekeeper, who was a 
 courageous woman, seized the basket in both hands, 
 and rushed with it to the fireplace, thereby fanning 
 the flame into a blaze and endangering her dress 
 and curls. She succeeded, however, in cramming 
 the basket and its contents into the grate ; then the 
 two, with the aid of poker, tongs, and shovel, crushed 
 and beat out the fire.
 
 1 4 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " There ! I said you'd do it," gasped Mrs. Kose, as 
 she flung herself, panting, into Mr. Auberly's easy- 
 chair ; " this comes all along of bein' in a hurry." 
 
 "I was always unfort'nit," sighed Matty, still hold- 
 ing the shovel and keeping her eye on the grate, as 
 if ready to make a furious attack on the smallest 
 spark that should venture to show itself. 
 
 " Come now, we '11 go to bed," said Mrs. Eose, 
 rising, " but first look well round to see that all is 
 safe." 
 
 A thorough and most careful investigation was 
 made of the basket, the grate, and the carpet sur- 
 rounding the fireplace, but nothing beyond the smell 
 of the burnt papers could be discovered, so the in- 
 structor and pupil put out the gas, shut the door, 
 and retired to the servants'-hall, where Hopkins, 
 the cook, the housemaid, and a small maid-of-all- 
 work awaited their arrival supper being already on 
 the table. 
 
 Here Mrs. Rose entertained the company with a 
 graphic not to say exaggerated account of the 
 " small fire " in the study, and wound up with an 
 eloquent appeal to all to " beware of fire," and an 
 assurance that there was nothing on the face of the 
 whole earth that she had a greater horror of. 
 
 Meanwhile the " little spark " among the papers 
 forgotten in the excitement of the succeeding blaze 
 of the waste-paper basket continued to do its slow
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 15 
 
 but certain work. Having fallen on the cloth be- 
 tween two bundles, it smouldered until it reached a 
 cotton pen -wiper, which received it rather greedily 
 in its embrace. This pen-wiper lay in contact with 
 some old letters which were dry and tindery in their 
 nature, and, being piled closely together in a heap, 
 afforded enlarged accommodation for the "spark," 
 which in about half an hour became quite worthy 
 of being termed a " swelL" 
 
 After that things went on like "like a house 
 on jire " if we may venture to use that too often 
 misapplied expression, in reference to the elegant 
 mansion in Beverly Square on that raw November 
 night.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 INTRODUCES ANOTHER LITTLE " 8PABK" TO THE READEfl. 
 
 WHISTLING is a fine, free, manly description of 
 music, which costs little and expresses much. 
 
 In all its phases, whistling is an interesting sub- 
 ject of study; whether we regard its aptitude for 
 expressing personal independence, recklessness, and 
 jollity ; its antiquity having begun no doubt with 
 Adam or its modes ol production ; as, when 
 created grandly by the whistling gale, or exas- 
 peratingly by the locomotive, or gushingly by the 
 lark, or sweetly by the little birds that " warble in 
 the flowering thorn." 
 
 The peculiar phase fif this time-honoured music 
 to which we wish to draw the reader's attention at 
 present, is that which was exemplified one Novem- 
 ber night (the same November night of which 
 mention has been made in the previous chapter) by 
 a small boy who, in his progress through the streets 
 of London, was arrested suddenly under the shadow
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 17 
 
 of St. Paul's by the bright glare and the tempting 
 fare of a pastry-cook's window. 
 
 Being hungry, the small boy, thrusting his cold 
 hands deep into his empty trouser-pockets, turned 
 his fat little face and round blue eyes full on the 
 window, and stared at the tarts and pies like a 
 famishing owl Being poor so poor that he pos- 
 sessed not the smallest coin of the realm he stared 
 in vain ; and, being light of heart as well as stout 
 of limb, he relieved his feelings by whistling at the 
 food with inexpressible energy. 
 
 TKe air selected by the young musician was Jim 
 Crow a sable melody high in public favour at that 
 time the familiar strains of which he delivered 
 with shiU and tuneful precision, which intensified 
 as he continued to gaze, until they rose above the 
 din of cabs, vans, and 'busses ; above the house-tops, 
 above the walls of the great cathedral, and finally 
 awakened the echoes of its roof, which, coming out 
 from the crevices and cornices where they usually 
 slept, went dancing upwards on the dome, and 
 played around the golden cross that glimmered like 
 a ghost in the dark wintry sky. 
 
 The music also awakened the interest of a tall 
 policeman whose beat that night chanced to be St. 
 Paul's Churchyard. That sedate guardian of the 
 night, observing that the small boy slightly impeded 
 the thoroughfare, sauntered up to him, and just a 
 B
 
 18 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE 0* 
 
 he reached that point in the chorus where Mr. Crow 
 is supposed to wheel and turn himself about, spun 
 him round and gave him a gentle rap on the head 
 with his knuckles, at the same time advising him to 
 move on. 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed the small boy, looking up witli 
 an expression of deep concern on his counte- 
 nance, as he backed off the pavement, " I hope I 
 didn't hurt you, bobby ; I really didn't mean to ; 
 but accidents will happen, you know, an' if you 
 won't keep your knuckles out of a feller's way, 
 why " 
 
 " Con:e," muttered the policeman, " shut up your 
 potato-trap for fear you kitch cold. Your mother 
 wants you ; she 's got some pap ready for you." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed the small boy, with his head a 
 little on one side, as though he were critically in- 
 specting the portrait of some curious animal, "a 
 prophet it is a blue- coated prophet in brass 
 buttons, all but choked with a leather stock if not 
 conceit. A horacle, six fut two in its stockin's. I 
 say, bobby, whoever brought you up carried you up 
 ii'iich too high, both in body and notions.- Wot 
 wouldn't they give for 'im in the Guards, or the 
 boss-marines, if he was only eight inches wider 
 across the shoulders !" 
 
 Seeing that the policeman passed slowly and 
 gravely 'on without condescending to take further
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 1 9 
 
 notice of him, the small boy bade him an affec- 
 tionate farewell; said that he would not forget to 
 mention him favourably at head- quarters, and then 
 continued his progress through the crowded streets 
 at a smart pace, whistling Jim Crow at the top of 
 his shrill pipe. 
 
 The small boy had a long walk before him ; but 
 neither his limbs, spirits, nor lips grew weary by the 
 way. Indeed, his energies seemed to increase with 
 every step, if one might judge from the easy swagger 
 of h^s-gait, and the various little touches of pleasan- 
 try in which he indulged from time to time ; such 
 as pulling the caps over the eyes of boys smaller 
 than himself, winking at those who were bigger, 
 uttering Indian war- whoops down alleys and lanes 
 that looked as if they could echo, and chaffing all 
 who appeared to be worthy of his attentions. Those 
 eccentricities of humour, however, did not divert his 
 active mind from the frequent and earnest study of 
 the industrial arts, as these were exhibited and 
 exemplified in shop -windows. 
 
 " Jolly stuff that, ain't it ? " observed another small 
 boy, in a coat much too long for him, as they met 
 and stopped in front of a chocolate-shop at the top 
 of Holborn Hill, where a steam-engine was per- 
 petually grinding up such quantities of rich brown 
 chocolate, that it seemed quite unreasonable, selfish, 
 and dog-in-the-manger-ish of the young man
 
 20 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 behind the counter to stand there, and neither eai, it 
 himself, nor let any one else touch it. 
 
 " Yes, it 's very jolly stuff," replied the first small 
 boy, regarding his questioner sternly. "I know 
 you 'd like some, wouldn't you ? Go in now an' buy 
 two pen'orth, and I '11 buy the half from you Ven 
 you come out." 
 
 " Walker /" replied the boy in the long coat. 
 
 " Just so ; and I 'd advise you to become a walker 
 too," retorted the other ; " run away now, your 
 master's bin askin' after you for half-an-hour, 7 
 know, an' more." 
 
 Without waiting for a reply, the small boy (our 
 small boy) swaggered away whistling louder than 
 ever. 
 
 Passing along Holborn, he continued his way into 
 Oxford Street, where the print-shop windows proved 
 irresistibly attractiva They seemed also to have 
 the effect of stimulating his intellectual and concep- 
 tive faculties, insomuch that he struck out several 
 new, and, to himself, highly entertaining pieces of 
 pleasantry, one of which consisted in asking a taci- 
 turn cabman, in the meekest of voices 
 
 " Please, sir, you couldn't tell me wot 's o'clock, 
 could you?" 
 
 The cabman observed a twinkle in the boy's eye ; 
 saw through him, in a metaphorical sense, and treated 
 him with silent contempt.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 21 
 
 " Oh, I beg pardon, sir/ continued the small boy, 
 in the same meek tone, as he turned to move humbly 
 away; " I forgot to remember that cabbies don't carry 
 no watches, no, nor change neither, they 're much too 
 wide awake for that !" 
 
 A sudden motion of the taciturn cabman caused 
 the small boy to dart suddenly to the other side of 
 the crowded street, where he resumed his easy in- 
 dependent air, and his interrupted tune. 
 
 " Can you direct me to Nottiu' Hill Gate, missus ? '' 
 he inquired of an applewoman, on reaching the 
 neighbourhood of Tottenham Court Road. 
 
 " Straight on as you go, boy," answered the woman, 
 who was busying herself about her stall. 
 
 " Very good indeed," said the small boy, with a 
 patronizing air ; " quite correctly answered. You 've 
 learnt geography I see." 
 
 "What say?" inquired the woman, who was 
 apparently a little deaf. 
 
 " I was askin' the price o' your oranges, missus." 
 
 " One penny apiece," said the woman, taking up 
 one. 
 
 " They an't biled to make 'em puff out, are they ? " 
 
 To this the woman vouchsafed no reply. 
 
 " Come, missus, don't be cross ; wot 's the price o' 
 yer apples now ?" 
 
 " D'you want one ?" asked the woman testily. 
 
 " Of course I does."
 
 22 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Well, then, they 're two a penny." 
 
 " Two a penny !" cried the small boy, with a look 
 of surprise; "why, I'd 'a said they was a penny 
 apiece. Good evenin', missus ; I never buys cheap 
 fruit cheap and nasty no, no ; good evenin'." 
 
 It seemed as if the current of the small boy's 
 thoughts had been diverted by this conversation, for 
 he walked for some time with his eyes cast on 
 the ground, and without whistling, but whatever the 
 feelings were that might have been working in his 
 mind, they were speedily put to flight by a facetious 
 butcher, who pulled his hat over his eyes as he 
 passed him. 
 
 " Now then, pig-sticker, what d' ye mean by that ?" 
 he shouted, but as the butcher walked on without 
 deigning to reply, he let off his indignation by yell- 
 ing in at the open door of a tobacco -shop and mak- 
 ing off at a brisk run. 
 
 From this point in his progress, he became still 
 more hilarious and daring in his freaks, and turned 
 aside once or twice into narrow streets, where sounds 
 of shouting or of music promised him fresh excite- 
 ment 
 
 On turning the corner of one of those streets, he 
 passed a wide doorway, by the side of which was a 
 knob with the word FIRE in conspicuous letters 
 above it, and the word BELL below it. The small 
 boy paused, caught his breath as if a sudden thought
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 23 
 
 had struck kirn, and glanced round. The street was 
 comparatively quiet ; his heart beat high ; he seized 
 the bell with both hands, pulled it full out, and 
 bolted ! 
 
 Now it chanced that one of the firemen of the 
 station happened to be standing close to the door, 
 inside, at the time. He, guessing the meaning of 
 the ring at once, darted out and gave chase. 
 
 The small boy fled on the wings of terror, with 
 his blue eyes starting from their sockets. The fire- 
 man^ as tall and heavy, but he was also strong and 
 in his prime, so that a short run brought him up 
 with the fugitive, whom he seized with a gripe of iron. 
 
 "Now, then, young bottle-imp, what did you 
 mean by that ?" 
 
 " Oh ! please sir," gasped the small be y, with a 
 beseeching look, " I couldn't help it." 
 
 There was such a tone of truthfulness in this 
 " couldn't," that it tickled the fireman. His mouth 
 relaxed in a quiet smile, and, releasing his intended 
 victim, he returned to the station, while the small 
 boy darted away in the direction of Oxford Street. 
 
 He had scarcely reached the end of the street, 
 however, when a man turned the corner at full speed 
 and ran him down ; ran him down so completely 
 that he sent him head- over- heels into the kennel, 
 and, passing on, darted at the fire-bell of the station 
 which he began to pull violently
 
 24 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 The man was tall and dishevelled, partially clad 
 in blue velvet, with stockings which had once been 
 white, but were now covered from garter to toe with 
 mud. One shoe clung to his left foot, the other was 
 fixed by the heel in a grating over a cellar- window 
 in Tottenham Court Eoad. Without hat or coat, 
 with his shirt-sleeves torn by those unfortunates 
 into whose arms he had wildly rushed, with his hair 
 streaming backwards, his eyes blood- shot, his face 
 pale as marble, and perspiration running down his 
 cheeks, not even his own most intimate friends 
 would have recognised Hopkins, the staid, soft- 
 spoken, polite and gentle Hopkins, had they seen 
 him that night pulling like a maniac at the fire- 
 bell 
 
 And, without doubt, Hopkins was a maniac that 
 night at least he was atflicted with temporary in- 
 sanity 1
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 FIRE! ! ! 
 
 " HALLO, that '11 do, man ! " cried the same stal- 
 wart, fireman who had seized the small boy, stepping 
 out and laying his hand on Hopkins' shoulder, 
 " whereabouts is it ? " 
 
 Hopkins heard him not. One idea had burnt 
 itself into the poor man's brain, and that was the 
 duty that lay on him to ring the alarm-bell ! Seeing 
 this, the fireman seized him and dragged him forcibly 
 almost lifted him into the station, round the 
 door of which an eager crowd had already begun to 
 collect. 
 
 " Calm yourself," said the stalwart fireman quietly, 
 as he thrust Hopkins down into a chair. " Consider 
 now. You '11 make us too late if you don't speak. 
 Where is it?" 
 
 " B B FIRE !" yelled Hopkins, gasping, and glar- 
 ing round him on the men, who were quietly putting 
 on their helmets. 
 
 Hopkins suddenly burst from the grasp of his
 
 2 6 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 captor, and, rushing out, seized the bell -handle, 
 which he began to pull more furiously than ever. 
 
 " Get her out, Jim," said the fireman in a low tone 
 to one of his comrades ("her" being the engine) ; at 
 the same time he went to the door, and again 
 seizing Hopkins, brought him back and forced him 
 into a chair, while he said firmly 
 
 " Now, then, out with it, man ; where 's the fire ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes," screamed Hopkins, " fire ! fire ! that 's 
 it ! B ! B Beverly ! blazes ! square ! number 
 FIRE ! " 
 
 " That '11 do," said the fireman, at once releasing 
 the temporary maniac, and going to a book where 
 he calmly made an entry of the name of the square, 
 the hour of the night, and the nature of the call. 
 Two lines sufficed. Then he rose, put on his helmet, 
 and thrust a small hatchet into his belt, just as the 
 engine was dragged to the door of the station. 
 
 There was something absolutely magnificent in 
 this scene which no pen can describe, because more 
 than half its force was conveyed only by the eye 
 and the ear. The strong contrast between human 
 excitement and madness coupled with imbecility, 
 and human calmness and self-possession coupled 
 with vigorous promptitude, was perfect. 
 
 Just before poor Hopkins rang his first note of 
 alarm the station had been wrapt in profound 
 silence, the small boy's interruption having been
 
 HOPKINS GIVES "A CALL." PAGE 26
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 27 
 
 but a momentary affair. George Dale, the fireman 
 in charge, was seated at a desk in the watch-room 
 (known among firemen as the " lobby "), making an 
 entry in a diary. All the other men about thirteen 
 in number had gone to their respective homes and 
 beds in the immediate neighbourhood, with the 
 exception of the two whose turn it was to remain 
 on duty all night. These two (named Baxmore and 
 Corney), with their coats, belts, boots, and caps on, 
 had just lain down on two low tressel couches, and 
 were-v.courting sleep. The helmets of their com- 
 rades hung on the walls round the room, with belts 
 and hatchets underneath them. Several pairs of 
 boots also graced the walls, and a small clock, whose 
 gentle tick was the only sound that broke the silence 
 of the night. In an outer room the dim form of a 
 spare engine could be seen through the doorway. 
 
 The instant that the bell rang, however, this state 
 of quietude was put to flight. The two men rose 
 from their couches, and Dale stepped to the door. 
 There was no starting up, no haste in their move- 
 ments, yet there was prompt rapidity. The men, 
 having been sailors, had been trained in the midst 
 of alarms. The questions which were put to Hop- 
 kins, as above described, were rapidly uttered. 
 Before they were answered the two men were 
 ready, and at Dale's order, " Get her out," they both 
 vanished
 
 28 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 One ran round the corner to the engine-house 
 and " knocked up " the driver in passing. The other 
 ran from door to door of the firemen's abodes, which 
 were close at hand, and with a loud double-ring 
 summoned the sleepers. Before he got back to 
 help the first with the engine, one and another and 
 another door opened, and a man darted out, button- 
 ing braces or coat as he ran. Each went into the 
 station, seized his helmet, belt, and axe from his 
 own peg, and in another moment all were armed 
 cap-d-pie. At the same instant that the engine 
 appeared at the door a pair of horses were trotted 
 up. Two men held them ; two others fastened the 
 traces; the driver sprang to his seat; the others 
 leaped to their respective places. Each knew what 
 to do, and did it at once. There was no hurry, no 
 loss of time, no excitement; some of the men, even 
 while acting with the utmost vigour and prompti- 
 tude, were yawning away their drowsiness ; and in 
 less than ten minutes from the moment the bell 
 first rang, the whip cracked and the fire-engine 
 dashed away from the station amid the cheers of 
 the crowd. 
 
 It may be as well to remark here, in passing, that 
 the London Fire Brigade had, at the time of which 
 we write, reached a high state of efficiency, although 
 it could not stand comparison with the perfection 
 of system and unity of plan which mark th3
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 29 
 
 organization and conduct of the Brigade of the 
 present day. Mr. Braidwt d, the able superinten- 
 dent, had for many years been training his men on 
 a system, the original of which he had begun and 
 proved in Edinburgh. Modifying his system to suit 
 the peculiarities of the larger field to which he had 
 been translated, he had brought the " Fire-Engine 
 Establishment" (which belonged at that time to 
 several insuranee companies) to a state of efficiency 
 which rendered it a model and a training-school for 
 thej-est of the world ; and although he had not the 
 advantage of the telegraph or the powerful aid of 
 the land steam fire-engine of the present day, he 
 had men of the same metal as those which compose 
 the force now ; indeed, many of the men who were 
 alive in. Mr. Braidwood's time are alive still and 
 doing duty. 
 
 The " Metropolitan Fire Brigade," as it now exists 
 under the control of the Metropolitan Board of 
 Works, has been carried by its present chief, Cap- 
 tain Eyre Massey Shaw, to a condition of efficiency 
 little if at all short of perfection, its only fault 
 being (if we may humbly venture a remark) that 
 it is too small both in numbers of engines and 
 men. 
 
 Now, good reader, if you have never seen a Lon- 
 don fire-engine go to a fire, you have no conception 
 of what it is ; and even if you have seen it, but
 
 30 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 have not gone with it, still you have no idea of what 
 it is! 
 
 To those accustomed to it, no doubt, it may be 
 tame enough we cannot tell; but to those who 
 mount an engine for the first time and drive through 
 the crowded thoroughfares of London at a wild 
 tearing gallop, it is probably the most exciting drive 
 conceivable. It beats steeple- chasing. It feels like 
 driving to destruction so wild and so reckless is 
 it. And yet it is not reckless in the strict sense of 
 that word ; for there is a stern need-be in the case. 
 Every moment (not to mention minutes or hours) is 
 of the utmost importance in the progress of a fire. 
 Fire smoulders and creeps at first, it may be, but 
 when it has got the mastery, and burst into flames, 
 it flashes to its work and completes it quickly. At 
 such times, one moment of time lost may involve 
 thousands of pounds ay, and many human lives ! 
 This is well known to those whose profession it is to 
 fight the flames. Hence the union of apparent mad 
 desperation, with cool, quiet self-possession in their 
 proceedings. When firemen can work in silence 
 they do so. No unnecessary word is uttered, no 
 voice is needlessly raised. Like the movements of 
 some beautiful steam-engine, which, with oiled 
 pistons, cranks, and levers, does its unobtrusive 
 work in its own little chamber in comparative still-- 
 ness, yet with a power that would tear and rend to
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 31 
 
 pieces buildings and machinery, so the firemen 
 sometimes bend to their work quietly, though with 
 mind and muscles strung to the utmost point of 
 tension. At other times, like the roaring locomotive 
 crashing through a tunnel or past a station, their 
 course is a tumultuous rush, amid a storm of shout- 
 ing and gesticulation. 
 
 So was it on the present occasion. Had the fire 
 been distant, they would have had to commence 
 their gallop somewhat leisurely, for fear of breaking 
 down the horses ; but it was not far off not much 
 more than a couple of miles so they dashed round 
 the corner of their own street at a brisk trot, and 
 swept into Oxford Street. Here they broke into a 
 gallop, and here the noise of their progress began, 
 for the great thoroughfare was crowded with vehicles 
 and pedestrians, many of whom were retiring from 
 the theatres and music-halls, and other places of 
 entertainment. 
 
 To pass through such a crowd without coming 
 into collision with anything required not only the 
 most dexterous driving, but rendered it necessary 
 that some of the men on the engine should stand up 
 and shout, or rather roar incessantly, as they whirled 
 along, clearing everything out of their way, and 
 narrowly escaping innumerable crashes by a mere 
 hairbreadth. 
 
 The men, as we said before having been sailors,
 
 62 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 seemed to shout with the memory of the boatswain 
 strong upon them, for their tones were pitched in 
 the deepest and gruffest bass-key. Sometimes 
 there was a lull for a moment, as a comparatively 
 clear space of a hundred yards or so lay before them ; 
 then their voices rose like the roaring of the gale as 
 a stupid or deaf cabman got in their way, or a 
 plethoric 'bus threatened to interrupt their furious 
 passage. 
 
 The cross streets were the points where the chief 
 difficulties met them. There the cab and van 
 drivers turned into or crossed the great thoroughfare, 
 all ignorant of the thunderbolt that was rushing on 
 like a fiery meteor, with its lamps casting a glare of 
 light before, and the helmets of its stern charioteers 
 flashing back the rays of street-lamps and windows ; 
 for, late though the hour was, all the gin-palaces 
 and tobacconists' shops, and many of the restaurants, 
 were still open and brightly illuminated. 
 
 At the corner of Wells Street, the crowd of cabs 
 and other vehicles was so great that the driver of 
 the engine began to tighten his reins, and Jim 
 Baxmore and Joe Corney raised their voice to a 
 fierce shout. Cabs, 'busses, and pedestrians scat- 
 tered right and left in a marvellous manner ; the 
 driver slackened his reins, cracked his whip, and 
 ihe horses stretched out again. 
 
 In passing Eerners Street, a hansom cab swept
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 33 
 
 round the corner, its dashing driver smoking a cigar 
 in sublime self-satisfaction, and looking carelessly 
 right and left for a " fare." This exquisite almost 
 ran into the engine ! There was a terrific howl 
 from all the firemen ; the cabby turned his smart 
 horse with a bound to one side, and lost his cigar in 
 the act in reference to which misfortune he was 
 heartily congratulated by a small member of the 
 Shoe-black Brigade, while the engine went steadily 
 and sternly on its way. 
 
 "^Ttere, it shows a light," observed one of the fire- 
 men to Dale, as he pointed to a luminous appearance 
 in the sky away to the north-east. 
 
 Dale was already looking in that direction, and 
 made no reply. 
 
 As they approached Tottenham Court Koad the 
 driver again checked the pace a little ; yet even at 
 the reduced speed they passed everything like a 
 whirlwind. The traffic here was so great that it 
 behoved them to be more cautious. Of course, the 
 more need that there was for caution, the more 
 necessity was there for shouting ; and the duty of 
 Baxmore and Corney standing as they did in front 
 of their comrades beside the driver became severe, 
 but they had good lungs both of them ! 
 
 At the point where Tottenham Court Eoad cuts 
 Oxford Street, the accumulation of vehicles of aU 
 sorts, from a hand-barrow to a furniture-van, is 
 c
 
 34 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OP 
 
 usually very great. To one unaccustomed to the 
 powers of London drivers, it would have seemed 
 nothing short of madness to drive full tilt into the 
 mass that blocked the streets at this point. But 
 the firemen did it. They reined up a little, it is 
 true, just as a hunter does in gathering his horse 
 together for a rush at a stone wall, but there was 
 nothing like an approach to stopping. 
 
 " Hi ! HI ! ! HI ! ! !" roared the firemen, Baxmore 
 and Corney high above the rest. A 'bus lumbered 
 to the left just in time ; a hansom sprang to the 
 right, not a moment too soon ; a luggage-van bolted 
 into Crown Street; the pedestrians scattered right 
 and left, and the way was clear no, not quite clear! 
 The engine had to turn at a right angle here into 
 Tottenham Court Eoad. Eound it went on the two 
 off- wheels, and came full swing on a market-gardener 
 and a hot-coffee woman, who were wheeling their 
 respective barrows leisurely side by side, and chat- 
 ting as they went. 
 
 The roar that burst from the firemen was terrific. 
 The driver attempted both to pull up and to turn aside. 
 The market-gardener dropt his barrow and fled. 
 The hot-coffee woman, being of a resolute nature, 
 thrust her barrow by main force on the footpath, arid 
 30 saved her goods and herself by a hairbreadth, 
 while the barrow of her friend was knocked in pieces. 
 But the 'effort of the engine-driver to avoid this had
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BBIGADE. 35 
 
 well-nigh resulted in serious consequences. In en- 
 deavouring to clear the market-gardener he drew so 
 near to the foot-path that in another moment a 
 lamp-post would have been carried away, and the 
 wheels of the engine, in all probability, knocked off 
 had not Joe Corney observed the danger. 
 
 With a truly Irish yell Joe seized the rein next 
 him, and pulled the horses round almost at a right 
 angle. The nave of the hind- wheel just shaved the 
 post as it flew by. The whole thing passed so 
 swi$ly that before the market-gardener recovered 
 from his consternation the engine was only discern- 
 ible in the distance by the sparks that flew from ita 
 wheels as it held on in its furious way. 
 
 All along its course a momentary disturbance of 
 London equanimity was created. Families not yet 
 abed rushed to their front windows, and, looking 
 out, exclaimed, " Ha ! the firemen." Tipplers in gin- 
 palaces ran to the doors and said, " There they go/' 
 " That 's your sort," " Hurrah my hearties !" or, "Go 
 it, ye cripples !" according to the different stages of 
 inebriation at which they had arrived ; and belated 
 men of business stopped to gaze, and then resumed 
 their way with thoughts and speculations on fire and 
 fire insurance, more or less deep and serious accord- 
 ing to temperament. But the disturbance was only 
 temporary. The families retired to their suppers or 
 beds, the tipplers returned to their tipple, the belated
 
 36 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 speculators to their dreams, and in a few minutes 
 (no doubt) forgot what they had seen, and forgot, 
 perchance, that they had any personal interest in 
 fire raising, or fire extinction, or fire prevention, or 
 fire in any dangerous shape or form whatever, or in- 
 dulged in the comforting belief, mayhap, that what- 
 ever disasters might attend the rest of the London 
 community, they and their houses being endued with 
 the properties of the salamander, nothing in the 
 shape of fire might, could, would, or should kindle 
 upon them. So true is it that " all men think all 
 men mortal but themselves !" 
 
 Do you doubt this, reader? If so, go poll your 
 acquaintance, and tell us how many of them have 
 got rope-ladders, or even ropes, to escape from their 
 houses should they take fire ; how many of them 
 have got hand-pumps, or even buckets, placed so as 
 to be handy in case of fire ; and how many of them 
 have got their houses and furniture insured against 
 fire! 
 
 Meanwhile, the fire-engine held on its way, unti* 
 it turned into Beverly Square, and pulled short up in 
 front of the blazing mansion of James Auberly, 
 Esquire. 
 
 Another engine was already at work there. It 
 had come from a nearer station, of the existence of 
 which Hopkins had been ignorant when he set out 
 on Ms wild race for help. The men of this engine
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 37 
 
 were already doing their work quietly, but with per- 
 ceptible effect, pouring incessant streams of water 
 in at the blazing windows, and watching for the 
 slightest lull in the ferocity of the smoke and flame 
 to attack the enemy at closer quarters.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 TELLS OP A FIERCE FIGHT WITH THE FLAifKS 
 
 WHEN the small boy whose name, it may be as 
 well to mention, was William (alias Willie) Willders 
 saw the fire-engine start, as has been already 
 described, Ids whole soul yearned to follow it, for, in 
 the course of his short life, he had never succeeded 
 in being at the beginning of a fire, although he had 
 often been at the middle and end of one not a very 
 difficult thing in London, by the way, seeing that 
 there are, on the average, between four and five fires 
 overy twenty-four hours ! 
 
 Willie Willders was of an inquiring disposition. 
 He wanted to know how things were managed at a 
 fire, from the beginning to the end, and he found 
 that the course of true inquiry, like another course 
 we wot of, never did run smooth. 
 
 Poor Willie's heart was with that engine, but his 
 legs were not. They did their best, but they failed, 
 strong and active though they were, to keep up with 
 the horses. So Willie heaved a bursting sigh and
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 39 
 
 slackened his speed as he had often done before in 
 similar circumstances, resolving to keep it in sight 
 as long as he could, and trust to his eyesight and to 
 the flames " showing a light " for the rest. 
 
 Just as he came to this magnanimous resolve A 
 strapping young gentleman called a passing cab, 
 leaped in, ordered the driver to folio 1 " 11 the engine, 
 and offered double fare if he should keep it in view 
 up^ to the fire. 
 
 'Willie, being sharp as a needle, at once stepped 
 forward and made as though he would open the door 
 for the gentleman. The youth was already in and 
 the door shut, 6ut ho smiled as he shouted to th? 
 driver "All light," and tossed a copper to Willie, 
 with the remark, " There, you scamp." The copper 
 fell in the mud, and there Willie left it, as he 
 doubled nimbly behind the vehicle and laid hold 
 of it 
 
 The cabman did his best to earn his double fare, 
 and thus it came to pass that Willie was in time to 
 see the firemen commencing work 
 
 As the young man leaped from the cab he uttered 
 a cry of surprise and alarm, and rushed towards the 
 crowd of firemen nearest to the burning house with- 
 out paying his fare. Willie was a little astonished 
 at this, but losing sight of the youth in the crowd, 
 and seeing nothing more of him at that time, he 
 became engrossed in other matters.
 
 40 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 There were so many men on the ground, howevei 
 for just then a third engine dashed up to the 
 scene of conflagration that it was difficult for the 
 excited boy to appreciate fully what he saw. He 
 got as close to the engine, however, as the police- 
 men would allow him, and observed that a fire-plug 
 had been already opened, and over it had been 
 placed a canvas cistern of about a yard long by 
 eighteen inches broad, stretched on an iron frame. 
 The cistern was filled with water to overflowing, 
 and the first engine had placed its suction-pipe in 
 it, while from the front of the engine extended the 
 leathern hose that conveyed the water to the burning 
 house. 
 
 Willie was deeply interested in this, and was 
 endeavouring to solve certain knotty points in his 
 own mind, when they were suddenly solved for him 
 by a communicative dustman who stood in the 
 crowd close by, and thus expounded the matter to 
 his inquisitive son. 
 
 " You see, Tommy, the use o' the cistern is hob- 
 vious. See, here 's 'ow it lies. If an ingin comes 
 up an' screwges its suction on to the plug, all the 
 other ingins as comes after it has to stan' by an' do 
 nuffin. But by puttin' the cistern over the plug an' 
 lettin' it fill, another ingin, or may be two more, can 
 ram in its suction and drink away till it's fit to 
 burst, d' ye see."
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 41 
 
 Willie drank in the information with avidity, and 
 then turned his attention to the front of the engine, 
 to which several lengths of hose, each forty feet 
 long, had been attached. Baxmore and Corney were 
 at the extreme end, screwing on the "branch" or 
 nozzle by which the stream of water is directed, 
 and Dale was tumbling a half-drunk and riotous 
 navvy head-over-heels into the crowd, in order to 
 convince him that his services to pump were not 
 wanted a sufficient number having been procured. 
 A couple of policemen walked this navvy quietly 
 from the scene, as Dale called out 
 
 " Down with her, boys ! " 
 
 " Pump away, lads ! " said one of th<4 firemen, 
 interpreting. 
 
 The volunteers bent their backs, and the white 
 clouds of steam that issued from the burning house 
 showed that the second engine was doing its work 
 well 
 
 Immediately after, Dale and his men, with the 
 exception of those required to attend the engine and 
 the " branch," were ordered to get out the ladders. 
 
 He who gave this order was a tall sinewy man, 
 middle-aged apparently, and of grave demeanour. 
 His dress was similar to that of the other firemen, 
 but there was an air of quiet unobtrusive authority 
 about him which showed that he was a leader. 
 
 " We might get on the roof now, Mr. Braidwood."
 
 42 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 suggested Dale, touching his helmet as he addressed 
 the well-known chief of the London Fire-Engine 
 Establishment. 
 
 " Not yet, Dale, not yet," said Braidwood ; " get 
 inside and see if ye can touch the fire through the 
 drawing-room floor. It 's just fallen in." 
 
 Dale and his men at once entered the front- door 
 of the building, dragging the branch and hose along 
 with them, and were lost in smoke. 
 
 Previous to the arrival of the fire-engines, how- 
 ever, a scene had been enacted which Willie Win- 
 ders had not witnessed. A fire-escape was first to 
 reach the burning house. This was then, and still 
 is, usually the case, owing to the fact that escapes 
 ire far more numerous in London than engines, so 
 that the former, being almost always close at hand, 
 often accomplish their great work of saving life 
 before the engines make their appearance. 
 
 The escape in the immediate neighbourhood of 
 Beverly Square was under the charge of conductor 
 Samuel Forest, a man who, although young, had 
 already saved many lives, in the service of the 
 Society for the Protection of Life from Fire. 
 
 When Forest reached the field of action, Mr. James 
 Auberly was seen at an upper window in a state of 
 undignified dishabille, shouting for help and half 
 suffocated with smoke, with Mrs. Rose hanging round 
 his neck on one side and Matty Merryon at the other.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 43 
 
 Poor Auberly, having tried the staircase on the first 
 alarm, was driven back by smoke, and rushed wildly 
 to the window, where the two domestics, descending 
 in terror from their attic, clung to him and ren- 
 dered him powerless. 
 
 Forest at once " pitched" his escape which was 
 just a huge scientifically-constructed ladder, set on 
 wheels. The head of it reached to the windows of 
 thp-second floor. By pulling a rope attached to a 
 lever, he raised a second ladder of smaller size, 
 which was fitted to the head of the large one. The 
 top of this second ladder was nearly sixty feet from 
 the ground, and it reached the window at which 
 Mr. Auberly was still shouting. Forest at once 
 sprang up. 
 
 "Leave me; save the woman," gasped Auberly, 
 as the man entered the room ; but the dense smoke 
 overpowered him as he spoke, and he fell forward. 
 The women also sank to the ground. 
 
 Forest instantly seized Mrs. Kose in his powerful 
 arms, and hurrying down the ladder to the top of 
 the escape, put her into the canvas trough or sack 
 which was suspended below the ladder all the way. 
 Down this she slid somewhat violently but safely 
 to the ground, while Forest ran up again and 
 rescued Matty in the same way. Mr. Auberly was 
 more difficult to manage, being a heavy man ; and 
 his rescuer was almost overpowered by the thick
 
 44 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 smoke in the midst of which all this was done. He 
 succeeded, however, but fainted on reaching the 
 ground. 
 
 It was at this point that the first engine arrived, 
 and only a few minutes elapsed when the second 
 made its appearance, followed by the cab from which 
 the young man leapt with the exclamation of sur- 
 prise and alarm that had astonished Willie Willders. 
 
 Pushing his way to the place where Mr. Auberly 
 and the others lay, the youth fell on his knees. 
 " My father !" he exclaimed wildly. 
 
 " He 's all right, lad," said Mr. Braidwood, coming 
 up at that moment, and laying his hand kindly on 
 the youth's shoulder ; " he 's only choked with smoke, 
 and will be better in a minute. Any more in the 
 house ?" he added quickly. 
 
 Young Auberly leaped up with a shout. 
 
 " My sister ! is she not saved ? Are all here ?" 
 
 He waited not for a reply, but in another moment 
 was on the fire-escape. 
 
 " After him, two of you," said Braidwood, turning 
 to his men. 
 
 Two at once obeyed. In fact, they had leaped 
 forward almost before the brief command was 
 uttered. One of these firemen was conspicuous for 
 his height and strength. He was first up the 
 ladder. Close upon him followed Baxmore with a 
 lantern.
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 45 
 
 Nothing but smoke had yet reached the room 
 into which young Auberly entered, so that he in- 
 stantly found himself in impenetrable darkness, and 
 was almost choked as well as blinded. 
 
 " Have a care, Frank ; the floor must be about 
 gone by this time," said Baxmore, as he ran after 
 his tall comrade. 
 
 The man whom he called Frank knew this. He 
 a^knew that it was not likely any one had been 
 left in the room from which the master of the house 
 had been rescued, and he thought it probable that 
 his daughter would occupy a room on the same 
 floor with her father. Acting on this supposition, 
 and taking for granted that the room they were 
 about to enter was Mr. Auberly's bedroom, the tall 
 fireman dashed at once through the smoke, and 
 tumbled over the prostrate form of young Auberly. 
 
 "Look after him, Baxmore," he gasped, as he 
 seized the lamp from his comrade's hand, and 
 darted across the room and out into the passage, 
 where he went crash against a door and burst it 
 open. Here the smoke was not so dense, so that he 
 could breathe, though with difficulty. 
 
 One glance showed him where the bed was. He 
 felt it. A female form was lying on it. The light 
 weight and the long hair which swept across his 
 face as he raised it gently but swiftly on his 
 shoulder, told that it was that of a girL
 
 46 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 At that moment he heard a loud shout from the 
 crowd, which was followed by a crash. Dashing 
 once more across the passage, he saw that a lurid 
 flame was piercing the smoke in the other room. 
 The staircase he knew was impassable, probably 
 gone by that time ; but he had no time to think, so 
 he drew the blanket over the girl's head, and 
 bounded towards the window. There was a feeling of 
 softness under his feet, as if the floor were made of 
 pasteboard. He felt it sinking beneath him. Down 
 it went just as he laid hold of the head of the fire- 
 escape, from which he hung suspended in the midst of 
 the smoke and sparks that rose from the falling ruin. 
 
 Strong though the young fireman was, he could 
 not raise himself by one arm, while the other was 
 twined round Louisa Auberly. At that moment, 
 Baxmore having carried young Auberly down in 
 safety, again ascended and appeared at the window. 
 He seized Frank by the hair of the head. 
 
 " Let go my hair and catch the girl !" shouted 
 Frank. 
 
 " All right," said Baxmore, seizing Loo and lifting 
 her over the window-silL 
 
 Frank being thus relieved, swung himself easily 
 on the sill, and grasping Loo once more, descended 
 to the street, where he was met by Mr. Auberly, 
 who had recovered from his state of partial suffoca- 
 tion, and who seized his child and hurried with her
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 4T 
 
 into a neighbouring house. Thither he was followed 
 by Mrs. Eose and Matty, who had also recovered. 
 
 During these episodes, the firemen had continued 
 at their work with cool and undistracted attention. 
 And here the value of organization was strikingly 
 and beautifully brought out ; for, while the crowd 
 swayed to and fro, now breathless with anxiety lest 
 the efforts of the bold conductor of the fire-escape 
 styemld fail ; anon wild with excitement and loud in 
 cheers when he succeeded, each fireman paid devoted 
 and exclusive attention to his own prescribed piece 
 of duty, as if nothing else were going on around him, 
 and did it with all his might well knowing that 
 every other piece of work was done, or point of 
 danger guarded, by a comrade, while the eagle eyes 
 of Mr. Braidwood and his not less watchful foremen 
 superintended all, observed and guided, as it were, 
 the field of battle. 
 
 And truly, good generalship was required, for the 
 foe was fierce and furious. The "devouring ele- 
 ment" rushed onward like a torrent. The house 
 was large and filled with rich furniture, which was 
 luxurious food for the flames as they swep- over the 
 walls, twined round the balustrades, swallowed the 
 paintings, devoured the woodwork, and melted the 
 metal in their dread progress. But the foe that met 
 them was, on this occasion, more than a match for 
 the flames. It was a hand-to-hand encounter. Tho
 
 48 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE Oif 
 
 men followed them foot by foot, inch by inch- - 
 sometimes almost singeing their beards or being 
 well-nigh choked and blinded by dense volumes of 
 smoke, but, if driven back, always returning to the 
 charge. The heat at times beat on their helmets so 
 fiercely that they were forced to turn their face? 
 ctside and half-turn their backs on the foe, but they 
 always kept their weapons the "branches" to the 
 front, and continued to discharge upon him tons ard 
 tons of aqueous artillery. 
 
 " Get up to the windows now ; use the escape," 
 said Mr. Braidwood ; and as he said this he passed 
 through the doorway of the burning house. 
 
 Some of the men rushed up the escape and let 
 down a line, to which one of the branches was mad6 
 fast. 
 
 "Avast pumpin', number two !" shouted Baxmore 
 from the midst of clouds of smoke that were bursting 
 crat from the window. 
 
 Number two engine was stopped. Its branch 
 was pulled up and pointed inside straight at the 
 (ire ; the signal given, " Down with number two ! * 
 and a hiss was followed by volumes of steam. 
 
 The work of extinction had at last begun in real 
 earnest. As long as they could only stand in the 
 street and throw water in through the windows at 
 haphazard, they might or might not hit the fire 
 and at all events they could not attack its strong
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 49 
 
 points ; but now, Baxmore at one window, and one 
 of the men of the first engine at another, played 
 point-blank into the flames, and, wherever the water 
 hit, they were extinguished. Presently they got 
 inside and began to be able to see through the 
 smoke; a blue glimmer became visible, the branch 
 was pointed, and it was gone. By this time the 
 second floor had partly given way, and fire was 
 creeping down the rafters to the eaves of the house. 
 Baxmore observed this, and pointed the branch 
 straight up. The fire at that part was put out, and 
 a heavy shower of water fell back on the fireman, 
 drenching him to the skin. 
 
 The attack had now become general The fire- 
 men swarmed in at the doors and windows the 
 moment that it was possible for a human being to 
 breathe the smoke and live. One of the engines 
 attached two additional lengths of hose, dragged the 
 branch through the first floor to the back of the 
 house, got upon an outhouse, in at a back window, 
 and attacked the foe in rear. On the roof, Frank 
 and Dale were plying their hatchets, their tall 
 figures sharply defined against the wintry sky, and 
 looking more gigantic than usual The enemy saved 
 them the trouble of cutting through, however, for it 
 suddenly burst upwards, and part of the roof fell in. 
 It would certainly have taken Frank prisoner had 
 not Dale caught him by the collar and dragged liim 
 
 T)
 
 50 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 out of danger. Instantly a branch was pointed 
 downwards, and the foe was beaten back ; from 
 above, below, before, and behind, it was now met 
 with deluges of water, which fell on the shoulders 
 of the men in the lower floor in a continuous 
 hot shower, while they stood ankle-deep in hot 
 water. 
 
 In ten minutes after this the fire was effectually 
 subdued, the lower floor having been saved, although 
 ; ts contents were severely damaged by water. 
 
 It was only necessary now that one of the engines 
 should remain for a time to make good the victory. 
 Fhe others rolled up their hose and prepared to de- 
 part. The King Street engine was the first to quit 
 the field of battle. While the men -were getting 
 ready, Mr. Auberly, muffled in a long cloak, stepped 
 from the crowd and touched Frank, the tall fireman, 
 3n the shoulder. 
 
 " Sir," said he in a low voice, " you saved my child. 
 I wouid show my sense of gratitude. Will you 
 accept of this purse?" 
 
 Frank shook his head, and a smile played on his 
 smoke-begrimed countenance as he said 
 
 " No, Mr. Auberly. I am obliged to you, but I 
 cannot accept of it. I do not want it, and besides, 
 the men of the brigade are not allowed to take 
 money." 
 
 "But you will let me do something for you?"
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 51 
 
 urged Mr. Auberly. " Is there nothing that I can 
 do?" 
 
 " Nothing, sir," said Frank. He paused for a 
 moment, and then resumed " Well, there is some- 
 thing that perhaps you could do, sir. I have a little 
 brother out of employment ; if you could get him a 
 situation, sir " 
 
 " I will," said Mr. Auberly with emotion. " Send 
 himjbo me on Thursday forenoon. He will find me 
 living next door to my to my late home. I shall 
 stay with a friend there for some time. Good-night.*' 
 
 " Men of King Street engine get up," cried Dale. 
 
 " Stay what is your name ?" said Mr. Auberly, 
 turning round. 
 
 But Frank was gone. He had leaped to his place 
 on the engine and was off at rattling pace through 
 the now silent and deserted streets of the sleeping 
 city. 
 
 Although they drove at great speed there was no 
 shouting now, for neither 'bus, cab, nor foot-pas- 
 senger blocked up the way, and the men, begrimed 
 with smoke and charcoal, wet, and weary with two 
 hours of almost uninterrupted labour of a severe as 
 well as dangerous character, sat or stood in their 
 places in perfect silence. 
 
 On reaching the fire station they leaped to the 
 ground, and all went quickly and silently to their 
 neighbouring homes and beds, except the two men
 
 52 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 on duty. These, changing their coats and boots, lay 
 down on the tressels, and at once fell fast asleep 
 the engine and horses having been previously housed 
 and then Dale sat down to make an entry of the 
 event in his day-book. 
 
 The whole thing might have been only a vivid 
 dream, so silent was the room and so devoid of any 
 evidence of recent excitement, while the reigning 
 tranquillity was enhanced rather than decreased by 
 the soft breathing of the sleepers, the ticking of the 
 clock, and the scratching of Dale's pen as he briefly 
 recorded the facts of the fire that night in Beverly 
 Square.
 
 CHAPTBK V. 
 
 SHOW^HOW WILLIE WILLDERS (JOT INVOLVED IN DOUBLE DUTIOULTIES. 
 
 * TO HIS INTENSE DELIGHT. 
 
 DURING the progress of the fire, small Willie 
 Willders was in a state of the wildest, we might 
 almost say hilarious, excitement. He regarded not 
 the loss of property ; the fire never struck him in 
 that light. His little body and big spirit rejoiced in 
 the whole affair as a magnificent display of fire- 
 works and heroism. 
 
 When the file burst through the library windows 
 he shouted ; when Sam Forest, the conductor of the 
 fire-escape, saved Mr. Aul>erly and the women, he 
 hurrahed ; when the tall fireman and Baxmore 
 rescued Louisa Auberly he cheered and cheered 
 again until his shrill voice rose high above the 
 shouting of the crowd. When the floors gave way 
 he screamed with delight, and when the roof fell in 
 he shrieked with ecstasy. 
 
 Sundry and persevering were the efforts he made 
 to break through the police by fair means and foul : 
 
 63
 
 64 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 but, in his energy, he over-reached himself, for he 
 made himself so conspicuous that the police paid 
 special attention to him, and wherever he appeared 
 he was snubbed and thrust back, so that his great 
 desire to get close to the men while they were at 
 work was frustrated. 
 
 Willie had a brother who was a fireman, and he 
 wished earnestly that he might recognise him, if 
 present ; but he knew that, being attached to the 
 southern district of the city, he was not likely to be 
 there, and even if he were, the men were all so much 
 alike in their uniform, that it was impossible at a 
 distance to distinguish one from another. True it 
 is that his brother was uncommonly tall, and very 
 strong ; but as the London firemen were all picked 
 men, many of them were very tall, and all of them 
 were strong. 
 
 Not until the last engine left the ground, did 
 Willie Willders think it advisable to tear himself 
 away, and hasten to his home in Nottinghill, where 
 he found his mother sitting up for him in a state of 
 considerable anxiety. She forbore to question him 
 that night however. 
 
 When Willie appeared next morning or rather, 
 the same morning, for it was nearly four o'clock 
 when he went to bed he found his mother sitting 
 by the fire knitting a sock 
 
 Mrs. Willders was a widow, and was usually
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 65 
 
 to be found seated by the fire knitting a sock, 
 or darning one, or mending some portion of male 
 attire. 
 
 " So you were at a fire last night, Willie ?" said 
 the widow. 
 
 "Yes I was," replied the boy, going up to his 
 mother, and giving her what he styled a " ryoster- 
 ing" kiss, which she appeared to like, although she 
 was .scarcely able to bear it, being thin and delicately 
 formed, and somewhat weak from bad health. 
 
 " No lives lost, I hope, Willie ?" 
 
 " No ; there ain't often lives lost, when Sam Foresi 
 the fire-escape-man is there. You know Forest, 
 mother, the man that we Ve heard so much of ? Ah, 
 it was sitch fun ! You Ve no notion ! It would 
 have made you split your sides wi' laughin' if you 'd 
 seen Sam come out o' the smoke carryin' the master 
 o' the house on his shoulder in his shirt and drawers, 
 with only one sock on, an' his night-cap tied so 
 tight under his chin that they had to cut it off him 
 in a swound too, hangin' as limp as a dead eel on 
 Sam's shoulder, with his head down one side an' 
 his legs down the other. Oh, it was a lark !" 
 
 The boy recalled " the lark" to his own mind so 
 vividly, that he had to stop at this point, in order to 
 give vent to an uproarious fit of laughter. 
 
 " Was Frank there ?" inquired the widow, when 
 the fit subsided.
 
 66 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Not that I know of, mother ; I looked hard for 
 him, but didn't see him. There was lots o' men big 
 enough to be him ; but I couldn't get near enough 
 to see for the bobbies. I wonder what them bobbies 
 were made for!" continued Willie, with a look of 
 indignation, as he seated himself at the table, and 
 began to eat a hearty breakfast ; " the long lamp- 
 posts ! that are always in the way when nobody 
 wants 'em. I do believe they was invented for 
 nothin' else than to aggravate small boys and snub 
 their inquiring minds." 
 
 " Where was the fire, Willie ? " 
 
 " In Beverly Square. I say, mother, if that there 
 butcher don't send us better stuff than this here 
 bacon in future, I '11 I '11 have to give him up." 
 
 " I can't afford to get better, dear," said the 
 widow meekly. 
 
 " I know that, mother ; but he could afford to 
 give better. However, it's down now, so it don't 
 much matter." 
 
 " Did you hear whose house was burned, Willie ? " 
 
 " Ay, a Mr. Oberly, or somethin' like that." 
 
 "Auberly!" exclaimed the widow, with a start. 
 
 " Well, p'raps it is Auberly ; but whichever it is, 
 he 's got a pretty kettle o' fish to look after this 
 mornin'. You seem to have heard of him before, 
 mother ?" 
 
 " Yes, Willie, I I know him a at least I have
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 57 
 
 met with him often. You see I was better off once, 
 and used to mingle with but I need not trouble you 
 with that. On the strength of our former acquaint- 
 ance, I thought I would write and ask him to get 
 you a situation in an office, and I have got a letter 
 from him, just before you came down to breakfast, 
 saying that he will do what he can, and bidding 
 me send you to him between eleven and twelve 
 to-jnprrow." 
 
 " Whew !" whistled Willie, " an' he burnt out o' 
 house an' home, without a coat to his back or a shoe 
 to his foot. It strikes me I '11 have to try to get 
 'him a situation." 
 
 "He won't be found at the house, now, I dare 
 say, my son, so we '11 have to wait a little ; but thf 
 burning of his house and furniture won't affect him 
 much, for he is rich." 
 
 " Humph I p'raps not," said Willie ; " but the 
 burnin' of his little girl might have " 
 
 " You said that no lives were lost," cried Mrs. 
 Willders, turning pale. 
 
 " No more there was, mother ; but if it hadn't 
 bin for one o' the firemen that jumped in at a 
 blazin' winder an' brought her out through fire an' 
 smoke, she'd have bin a cinder by this time, an' 
 money wouldn't have bought the rich man another 
 daughter, I know." 
 
 " True, my son," observed Mrs. Willders, resting
 
 58 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 her forehead on her hand ; then, as if suddenly re- 
 collecting something, she looked up and said, " Willie, 
 I want you to go down to the City with these socks 
 to Frank. This is his birthday, and I sat late last 
 night on purpose to get them finished. His station 
 is a long way off, I know, but you Ve nothing else 
 to do, so " 
 
 " Nothin' else to do, mother ! " exclaimed Willie, 
 with an offended look. " Haven't I got to converse 
 in a friendly way with all the crossin'-sweepers an' 
 shoeblacks an' stall- women as I go along, an' chaff 
 the cabbies, an' look in at all the shop-windows, and 
 insult the bobbies ? I always insult the bobbies. 
 It does me good. I hurt 'em, mentally, as much as 
 I can, an' I 'd hurt 'em bodily if I could. But every 
 dog has his day. When I grow up won't I pitch 
 into 'em ! " 
 
 He struck the table with his fist, and, shaking 
 back his curly hair, lifted his blue eyes to his 
 mother's face with a stern expression, which gra- 
 dually relaxed into a smile. 
 
 " Ah, you needn't grin, mother, an' tell me that 
 the 'policemen' are a fine set of men, and quite as 
 brave and useful in their way as the firemen. I 
 know all you respectable sort o' people think that, 
 but / don't. They're my natural enemies, and I 
 hate 'em. Come, mother, give me the socks and let 
 me be off."
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BEIGADE. 69 
 
 Soon the vigorous urchin was on his way to the 
 City, whistling, as usual, with al] his might. As 
 he passed the corner of the British Museum a hand 
 touched him on the shoulder, and its owner said 
 
 " How much are ye paid a week, lad, for kicking 
 up such a row ? " 
 
 Willie looked round, and his eyes encountered the 
 brass buckle of the waist-belt of a tall strapping 
 feljew in a blue uniform. Glancing upwards, he 
 beheld the handsome countenance of his brother 
 Frank looking down at him with a quiet smile. 
 He wore no helmet, for except when attending a 
 fire the firemen wear a sailor- like blue cloth cap. 
 
 " Hallo, Blazes ! is that you ?" cried the boy. 
 
 " Just so, Willie ; goin' down to Watling Street 
 to attend drill." 
 
 Willie (who had styled his brother " Blazes " ever 
 since he joined the fire brigade) observed that he 
 happened to be going in the same direction to deliver 
 a message from his mother to a relation, which he 
 would not speak about, however, just then, as he 
 wished to tell him of a fire he had been at last 
 night. 
 
 " A fire, lad ; was it a big one ? " 
 
 " Ay, that it was ; a case o' burnin' out almost ; 
 and there were lives saved" said the boy, with a look 
 of triumph; "and that's more than you caD say 
 you 've seen, though you are a fireman."
 
 60 FIGHTING THE FLAMFS I A TALE OF 
 
 " Well, you know I have not been long in the 
 brigade, Willie, and as the escapes often do their 
 work before the engines come up, I've not had 
 much chance yet of seeing lives saved. How was 
 it done ? " 
 
 With glowing eyes and flushed cheeks Willie at 
 once launched out into a vivid description of the 
 scene he had so recently witnessed, and dwelt parti- 
 cularly on the brave deeds of conductor Forest and 
 the tall fireman. Suddenly he looked up at his 
 brother. 
 
 * Why, what are you chucklin' at, Blazes ? " 
 
 " Nothing, lad. Was the fireman very tall ? " 
 
 " That he certainly was uncommon tali" 
 
 " Something like me ?" said Frank 
 
 A gleam of intelligence shot across the boy's face 
 cui he stopped and caught his brother by the sleeve, 
 saying earnestly. 
 
 " It wasn't you, Frank, was it ? " 
 
 " It was, Willie, and right glad am I to have been 
 in such good luck as to save Miss Auberly." 
 
 Willie grasped his brother's hand and shook it 
 heartily. 
 
 "You're a brick, Blazes," said he, "and this is 
 your birthday, an' I wish you luck an' long life, my 
 boy. You'll do me credit yet, if you go on as 
 you 've begun. Now, I '11 go right away back an' 
 tell mother. Won't she be fit to bu'st ? "
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 61 
 
 " But what about your message to the relation in 
 the City ? " inquired Frank. 
 
 " That relation is yourself, and here 's the message, 
 in the shape of a pair o' socks from mother ; knitted 
 with her own hands ; and, by the way, that reminds 
 me how came you to be at the fire last night? 
 It 's a long way from your station." 
 
 " I 've been changed recently," said Frank ; " poor 
 Groxe was badly hurt about the loins at a fire in 
 .New Bond Street last week, and I have been sent 
 to take his place, so I 'm at the King Street station 
 now. But I have something more to tell you before 
 you go, lad, so walk with me a bit farther." 
 
 Willie consented, and Frank related to him his 
 conversation with Mr. Auberly in reference to him- 
 self. 
 
 " I thought of asking leave and running out this 
 afternoon to tell you, so it 's as well we have met, as 
 it will . Why, what are you chuckling at, Willie ?" 
 
 This question was put in consequence of the boy's 
 eyes twinkling and his cheeks reddening with sup- 
 pressed merriment. 
 
 " Never mind, Blazes. I haven't time to tell you 
 just now. I'll tell you some other time. So old 
 Auberly wants to see me to-morrow forenoon ? " 
 
 " That 's what he said to me," returned Frank. 
 
 " Very good ; I '11 go. Adoo, Blazes farewell." 
 
 So saying, Willie Willders turned round and weni
 
 62 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 off at a run, chuckling violently. He attempted to 
 whistle once or twice, but his mouth refused to 
 retain the necessary formation, so he contented him- 
 self with chuckling instead. And it is worthy of 
 record that that small boy was so much engrossed 
 with his own thoughts on this particular occasion 
 that he did not make one observation, bad, good, or 
 indifferent, to any one during his walk home. He 
 even received a question from a boy smaller than 
 himself as to whether ' his mother knew he was out,' 
 without making any reply, and passed innumerable 
 policemen without even a thought of vengeance ! 
 
 " Let me see," said he, muttering to himself as he 
 paused beside the Marble Arch at Hyde Park, and 
 leaned his head against the railings of that structure ; 
 " Mr. Auberly has been an' ordered two boys to 
 be sent to him to-morrow forenoon ha! he! sk!" (the 
 chuckling got the better of him here) "very good. 
 An' my mother has ordered one o' the boys to go, 
 while a tall fireman has ordered the other. Now, 
 the question is, which o' the two boys am I the one 
 or the t'other ha ! sk ! ho ! Well, of course both o' 
 the boys will go; they can't help it, there 's no gittin' 
 over that ; but, then, which of 'em will git the situa- 
 tion? There's a scruncher for you, Mr. Auberly. 
 You 11 have to fill your house with tar an' turpen- 
 tine an' set fire to it over again 'afore you '11 throw 
 light on that pint. S'pose I should go in for both
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 63 
 
 situations ! It might be managed. The first boy 
 could take a well paid situation as a clerk, an' the 
 second boy might go in for night-watchman at a 
 bank." (Chuckling again interrupted the flow of 
 thought.) " P'raps the two situations might be got in 
 the same place o' business ; that would be handy ! 
 Oh ! if one o' the boys could only be a girl, what a 
 lark that would sk ! ha / ha !" 
 
 He was interrupted at this point by a shoe-black, 
 who remarked to his companion 
 
 " I say, Bob, 'ere 's a lark. 'Ere 's a feller bin an' 
 got out o' Bedlam, a larfin at nothink fit to burst 
 hisself !" 
 
 So Willie resumed his walk with a chuckle that 
 fully confirmed the member of the black brigade in 
 his opinion. 
 
 He went home chuckling and went to bed chuck- 
 ling, without informing his mother of the cause of 
 his mirth. Chuckling he arose on the following 
 morning, and, chuckling still, went at noon to Beverly 
 Square, where he discovered Mr. Auberly standing, 
 gaunt and forlorn, in the midst of the ruins of his 
 once elegant mansior.
 
 CHAPTEK VI. 
 
 TREATS OF THE DIFFICULT QUESTION, " WHEN ONE IS ANOTHER WHO 
 IS WHICH?" 
 
 " WELL, boy, what do you want ? Have you any- 
 L Mng to say to me." 
 
 Mr. Auberly turned sharp round on Willie, whose 
 gaze had gone beyond the length of simple curiosity. 
 In fact, he was awe-struck at the sight of such a 
 very tall and very dignified man standing so grimly 
 in the midst of such dreadful devastation. 
 
 " Please, sir, I was sent to you, sir, by " 
 
 " Oh, you 're the boy, the son of, that is to say 
 you were sent to me by your mother," said Mr. 
 Auberly with a frown. 
 
 " Well, sir," replied Willie, hesitating, " I I was 
 sent by by " 
 
 " Ah, I see," interrupted Mr. Auberly with a smile 
 that was meant to be gracious, " you were sent by a 
 fireman ; you are not the the I mean you 're the 
 other loy" 
 
 Poor Willie, being of a powerfully risible nature
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 65 
 
 found it hard to contain himself on hearing his own 
 words of the previous evening re-echoed thus un- 
 expectedly. His face became red, and he took 
 refuge in blowing his nose, during which process 
 having observed the smile on Mr. Auberly's face 
 he resolved to be " the other boy." 
 
 " Yes, sir," he said, looking up modestly, " I was 
 sent by a fireman ; I am the other boy." 
 
 Me. Auberly . smiled again grimly, and said that 
 the fireman was a brave fellow, and that he had 
 saved his daughter's life, and that he was very glad 
 to do anything that lay in his power for him, and 
 that he understood that Willie was the fireman's 
 brother ; to which the boy replied that he was. 
 
 "Well, then, come this way," continued Mr. 
 Auberly, leading Willie into the library of the 
 adjoining house, which his friend had put at his 
 disposal, and seating himself at a writing-table. 
 ' You want a situation of some sort a clerkship, I 
 suppose ?" 
 
 Willie admitted that his ambition soared to that 
 tremendous height. 
 
 " Let me see," muttered Mr. Auberly, taking up a 
 pen and beginning to write ; " yes, she will be able 
 to help me. What is your name, boy ?" 
 
 " Willie, sir." 
 
 " Just so, William ; and your surname your 
 other name ?" 
 
 B
 
 66 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Willders, sir." 
 
 Mr. Auberly started, and looked Willie full in the 
 eyes. Willie, feeling that he was playing a sort of 
 double part without being able to avoid it, grew red 
 in the face. 
 
 " What did you say, boy ?" 
 
 " Willders," replied Willie stoutly. 
 
 " Then you 're not the other boy," said Mr. Auberly, 
 laying down his pen, and regarding Willie with a 
 frown. 
 
 " Please, sir," replied Willie, with a look of meek- 
 ness which was mingled with a feeling of despera- 
 tion, for his desire to laugh was strong upon him, 
 " please, sir, I don't rightly know which boy I am." 
 
 Mr. Auberly paused for a moment. 
 
 "Boy, you're a fool!" 
 
 " Thank 'ee, sir," said Willie. 
 
 This reply went a- long way in Mr. Auberly*s 
 mind to prove the truth of his assertion. 
 
 " Answer me, boy," said Mr. Auberly, with an 
 impressive look and tone ; " were you sent here by 
 a fireman ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Willie. 
 
 " What is his name ? " 
 
 " Same as mine, sir Willders." 
 
 " Of course, of course," said Mr. Auberly, a little 
 confused at having put such an unnecessary ques- 
 tion. " Does your mother know you 're here ? "
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 67 
 
 This brought the slang phrase, " Does your mother 
 know you 're out ?" so forcibly to the boy's mind, that 
 he felt himself swell internally, and had recourse 
 again to his pocket-handkerchief as a safety-valve. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said he, on recovering his composure ; 
 "arter I saw Blazes Frank, I mean, that's my 
 brother, sir I goes right away home to bed. I 
 stops with my mother, sir, an' she saw me come off 
 here"this mornin', sir. She knows I was comin' 
 here." 
 
 " Of course ; yes, yes, I see," muttered Mr. 
 Auberly, again taking up his pen. "I see; yes, 
 yes ; same name- -strange coincidence, though ; but 
 after all, there are many of that name in London. 
 I suppose the other boy will be here shortly. Very 
 odd, very odd indeed." 
 
 " Please, sir," observed Willie, in a gentle tone, 
 " you said / was the other boy, sir." 
 
 Mr. Auberly seemed a little annoyed at his mut- 
 tered words being thus replied to, yet he conde- 
 scended to explain that there was another boy of the 
 same name whom he expected to see that morning. 
 
 " Oh, then there 's another other boy, sir ? " said 
 Willie, with a look of interest. 
 
 "Hold your tongue!" said Mr. Auberly in a 
 sharp voice ; " you 're a fool, and you 're much too 
 fond of speaking. I advise you to keep your tongue 
 quieter if you wish to get on in life."
 
 68 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Willie once more sought relief in his pocket- 
 handkerchief, while his patron indited and sealed 
 an epistle, which he addressed to "Miss Tippet, 
 No. 6 Poorthing Lane, Beverly Square." 
 
 " Here, boy, take this to the lady to whom it is 
 addressed the lane is at the opposite corner of the 
 square and wait an answer." 
 
 " Am I to bring the answer back to you, sir ? " 
 asked Willie with much humility. 
 
 " No ; the answer is for yourself," said Mr. Auberly 
 testily ; " and hark 'ee, boy, you need not trouble me 
 again. That note will get you all you desire." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Willie, making a bow, and 
 preparing to retire; "but please, sir, I don't very 
 well know, that is to say ahem ! " 
 
 " Well, boy ? " said the patron sternly, 
 
 " Excuse me, sir ; I can't help it you know ; but 
 please, sir, I wish to explain about that other boy 
 no, that's me, but the other other boy, you 
 know " 
 
 " Begone, boy ! " cried Mr. Auberly in a voice so 
 stern that Willie found himself next moment in the 
 street, along which he ran chuckling worse than 
 ever. 
 
 A little reflection might have opened Mr. Auberly's 
 eyes to the truth in regard to Willie, but a poor 
 relation was to him a disagreeable subject of con- 
 templation, and he possessed the faculty, in an
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 69 
 
 eminent degree, of dismissing it altogether from his 
 mind. Having care enough on his mind at that 
 time, poor man, he deliberately cast the confusion 
 of the two boys out of his thoughts, and gave him- 
 self up to matters more interesting and personal. 
 
 We may add here that Mrs. Willders was faithful 
 to her promise, and never more addressed her 
 brother-in-law by word or letter. When Willie 
 afterwards told her and Frank of the absurdity of 
 his interview, and of the violent manner in which 
 Mr. Auberly had dismissed him when he was going 
 to explain about the " other " boy, his mother thought 
 it best to let things rest as they stood, yet she often 
 wondered in her own quiet way what Mr. Auberly 
 would think of her and of the non-appearance of 
 the " other" boy ; and she felt convinced that if he 
 only put things together he must come to under- 
 stand that Willie and Frank were her sons. But 
 Mrs. Willders did not know of the before-men- 
 tioned happy facility which her kinsman possessed 
 of forgetting poor relations ; so, after wondering on 
 for a time, she ceased to wonder or to think about 
 it at all.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 INTRODUCES NEW CHARACTERS, A&D EXHIBITS THE THOUGHTS THAT 
 SOME WOMEN ENTERTAIN IN REGARD TO MEN. 
 
 Miss EMELINA TIPPET was a maiden lady of pleas- 
 ing countenance and exceedingly uncertain age. 
 
 She was a poor member of a poor branch of an 
 aristocratic family, and feeling an unconquerable 
 desire to breathe, if not the pure unadulterated 
 atmosphere of Beverly Square, at least as much of 
 it as was compatible with a very moderate income, 
 she rented a small house in a very dark and dismal 
 lane leading out of that great centre of refinement. 
 
 It is true that Beverly Square was not exactly 
 "the West End," but there are many degrees of 
 West-endiness, so to speak, in the western neigh- 
 bourhood of London, and this square was, in the 
 opinion of Miss Tippet, the West-endiest place she 
 knew, because there dwelt in it, not only a very 
 genteel and uncommonly rich portion of the com- 
 munity, but several of her own aristocratic though 
 distant relations, among whom was Mr. Auberly.
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 71 
 
 The precise distance of the relationship between 
 them had never been defined, and all records bearing 
 on it having been lost in the mists of antiquity, it 
 could not now be ascertained ; but Miss Tippet laid 
 claim to the relationship, and as she was an ob- 
 liging, good-humoured, chatty, and musical lady, 
 Mr. Auberly admitted the claim. 
 
 Miss Tippet's only weakness for she was indeed 
 a most estimable woman was a tendency to alloy 
 ra*iilt and position to weigh too much in her esteem 
 She had also a sensitive abhorrence of everything 
 " low and vulgar," which would have been, of course, 
 a very proper feeling had she not fallen into the 
 mistake of considering humble birth lowness, and 
 want of polish vulgarity a mistake which is often 
 (sometimes even wilfully) made by persons who 
 consider themselves much wiser than Miss Tippet, 
 but who are not wise enough to see a distinct shade 
 of true vulgarity in their own sentiments. 
 
 The dark, dismal lane, named Poorthing Lane, 
 besides forming an asylum for decayed and would-be 
 aristocrats, and a vestibule, as it were, to Beverly 
 Square, was a convenient retreat for sundry green- 
 grocers and public-house keepers and small trades- 
 people, who supplied the densely-peopled surround- 
 ing district, and even some of the inhabitants of 
 Beverly Square itself, with the necessaries of life. 
 It was also a thoroughfare for the gay equipages of
 
 72 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A. TALE OF 
 
 the square, which passed through it daily on their 
 way to and from the adjoining stables, thereby en- 
 dangering the lives of precocious babies who could 
 crawl but could not walk away from home, as well 
 as affording food for criticism and scandal, not to 
 mention the leaving behind of a species of second- 
 hand odour of gentility such as coachmen and foot- 
 men can give forth. 
 
 Miss Tippet's means being small, she rented a 
 proportionately small residence, consisting of two 
 floors, which were the upper portion of a house, 
 whose ground floor was a toy-shop. The owner of 
 the toy-shop, David Boone, was Miss Tippet's land- 
 lord ; but not the owner of the tenement. He 
 rented the whole, and sublet the upper portion. 
 Miss Tippet's parlour windows commanded a near 
 view of the lodging opposite, into every corner and 
 crevice of which she could have seen had not the 
 windows been incrusted with impenetrable dirt. 
 Her own domestic arrangements were concealed 
 from view by small green Venetian blinds, which 
 rose from below and met the large Venetians which 
 descended from above. The good lady's bedroom 
 windows in the upper floor commanded a near 
 view much too near of a stack of chimneys, 
 between which and another stack, farther over, she 
 had a glimpse of part of the gable end of a house, 
 and the topmost bough of a tree in Beverly Square
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 73 
 
 It was this prospect into paradise, terrestrially 
 speaking, that influenced Miss Tippet in the choice 
 of her abode. 
 
 When William Willders reached the small dooi 
 of No. 6 Poorthing Lane, and raised his hand to 
 knock, the said door opened as if it had been trained 
 to admit visitors of its own accord, and Miss Matty 
 Merryon issued forth, followed by a bright blue- 
 eyedjgirl of about twelve years of age. 
 
 ''Well, boy, was ye comin' here?" inquired 
 Matty, as the lad stepped aside to let them pass. 
 
 " Yes I was. Does Miss Tippet live here ?" 
 
 " She does, boy, what d' ye want with her ?" 
 
 " I want to see her, young 'ooman, so you 'd 
 better cut away up an' tell her a gen'lm'n requests a 
 few words private conversation with her." 
 
 The little girl laughed at this speech, and Matty, 
 addressing Willie as a "dirty spalpeen," said he 
 had better go with her to a shop first, and she 'd 
 then take him back and introduce him to Miss 
 Tippet. 
 
 " You see I can't let ye in all be yer lone, cushla ; 
 for what would the neighbours say, you know! 
 I 'm only goin' to the toy-shop, an' won't kape ye 
 a minit, for Miss Emma don't take long to her 
 bargains." 
 
 Willie might probably have demurred to this 
 delay ; but on hearing that the blue- eyed girl
 
 74 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 wanted to make purchases, he at once agreed to the 
 proposal, and followed them into the toy-shop. 
 
 David Boone, who stepped out of the back-shop 
 to serve them, was, if we may say so, very unlike 
 his trade. A grave, tall, long-legged, long-nosed, 
 raw-boned, melancholy- looking creature such as he, 
 might have been an undertaker, or a mute, or a 
 sexton, or a policeman, or a horse-guardsman, or 
 even a lawyer ; but it was the height of impropriety 
 to have made him a toy -shopman, and whoever did 
 it had no notion whatever of the fitness of things. 
 One could not resist the idea that his clumsy legs 
 would certainly upset the slender wooden toys with 
 which the floor and counters were covered, and his 
 fingers seemed made to break things. The figure of 
 Punch which hung from the ceiling appeared in- 
 clined to hit him as he passed to and fro, and the 
 pretty little dolls with the sweet pink faces, and 
 very flaxen hair and cerulean eyes were evidently 
 laughing at him. 
 
 Nevertheless David Boone was a kind-hearted 
 man, very fond of children, and extremely un- 
 like, in some respects, what people imagined him 
 at first sight to be. 
 
 " Well, Miss Ward, what can I supply you with 
 to-day ?" said he blandly. 
 
 " Please, Mr. Boone, I want a slate and a piece of 
 slate-pencil" Emma looked up with a sweet smile
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 75 
 
 at the tall shopman, who looked down upon hei 
 with grave benignity, as he produced the articles 
 required. 
 
 " D' you kape turpentine ?" said Matty, as they 
 were about to quit the shop. 
 
 Boone started, and said almost testily, "No, I 
 don't. Why do you ask ?" 
 
 " Sure there 's no sin in askin'," replied Matty, in 
 surprise at the man's changed manner. 
 
 *" Of course of course not," rejoined Boone, with 
 a slight look of confusion, as he made a sudden 
 assault with his pocket-handkerchief on the cat, 
 which was sleeping innocently in the window ; " git 
 out o' that, you brute ; you 're always agoin' in the 
 winder, capsizin' things. There ! you Ve been an' 
 sat on the face o' that ere wax doll till you've 
 a'most melted it. Out o' that with you ! No, Miss 
 Merryon," he added, turning to the girl with his 
 wonted urbanity, " I don't keep turpentine, and I 
 was only surprised you should ask for it in a toy- 
 shop ; but you '11 get it of Mr. White next door. 
 I don't believe there 's anythink in the world as he 
 can't supply to his customers." 
 
 David Boone bowed them out, and then re-entered 
 the back-shop, shaking his head slowly from side to 
 side. 
 
 " I don't like it I don't even like to think of it, 
 Gorman," he said to a big low-browed man who sat
 
 76 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OJf 
 
 smoking his pipe beside the little fireplace, the fire 
 in which was so small that its smoke scarcely 
 equalled in volume that of the pipe he smoked : 
 " No, I don't like it, and I won't do it." 
 
 " Well, well, you can please yourself," said Gor- 
 man, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, and placing 
 it in his vest pocket, as he rose and buttoned his 
 thick pea-jacket up to the chin ; " but I '11 tell you 
 what it is, if you are a descendant of the hunter of 
 the far west that you boast so much about, it's 
 precious little of his pluck that you Ve got ; an' so 
 I tell 'ee to your face, David Boone. All I Ve got to 
 say is, that you'd better be wise and take my 
 advice, and think better of it." 
 
 So saying Gorman went out, and slammed the 
 door after him. 
 
 Meanwhile Miss Matty Merryon, having pur- 
 chased a small phial of turpentine, returned to 
 No. 6, and ushered Willie Willders into the pre- 
 sence of her mistress. 
 
 Miss Emelina Tippet was neither tall nor stiff, 
 nor angular nor bony; on the contrary, she was 
 little and plump, and not bad-looking. And people 
 often wondered why Miss Tippet, was Miss Tippet 
 and was not Mrs. Somebody else. Whatever the 
 reason was, Miss Tippet never divulged it, so we 
 won't speculate about it here. 
 
 "A note, boy, from Mr. Auberly?" exclaimed
 
 THE LONDON FIBE BRIGADE. 77 
 
 Miss Tippet, with a beaming smile; "give it me 
 thank you." 
 
 She opened it and read attentively, while Master 
 Willie glanced round the parlour and took mental 
 notes. Miss Emma Ward sat down on a stool in 
 the window, ostensibly to " do sums," but really to 
 draw faces, all of which bore a strong caricatured 
 resemblance to Willie, at whom she glanced slyly 
 oyec the top of her slate. 
 
 Matty remained standing at the door to hear 
 what the note was about. She did not pretend to 
 busy herself about anything. There was no subter- 
 fuge in Matty. She had been Miss Tippet's confi- 
 dential servant before entering the service of Mr. 
 Auberly, and her extremely short stay in Beverly 
 Square had not altered that condition. She had 
 come to feel that she had a right to know all Miss 
 Tippet's affairs, and so waited for information. 
 
 "Ah !" exclaimed Miss Tippet, still reading, "yes; 
 ' get him a situation in your brother's office' (oh, cer- 
 tainly, I '11 be sure to get that) ; ' he seems smart, I 
 might almost say impu ' (ahem ! Yes, well )." 
 
 "Boy," said Miss Tippet, turning suddenly to 
 Willie, "your name is William Willders, I be- 
 lieve?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 "Well, William, Mr. Auberly, my relative, asks 
 me to get you into my brother's my brother's.
 
 78 - FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 what 's 'is name, office. Of course I shall be happy 
 to try. I am always extremely happy to do any- 
 thing for yes, I suppose of course you can write, 
 and, what d'ye call it count you can do arith- 
 metic ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied Willie. 
 
 " And you can spell eh ? I hope you can spell, 
 Edward, a I mean Thomas is it, or William ?" 
 
 Miss Tippet looked at Willie so earnestly and 
 put this question in tones so solemn that he was 
 much impressed, and felt as if all his earthly hopes 
 hung on his reply, so he admitted that he could 
 spell 
 
 " Good," continued Miss Tippet. " You are, I 
 suppose, in rather poor circumstances. Is your 
 father poor?" 
 
 " He 's dead, ma'am ; was drowned." 
 
 " Oh ! shocking, that 's very sad. Was your mother 
 drowned too ?" 
 
 " No, ma'am, she 's alive and well at least she 's 
 well for her, but she an't over strong. That 's why I 
 want to get work, that I may help her; and she 
 wants me to be a clerk in a office, but I 'd rather be 
 a fireman. You couldn't make me a fireman, could 
 you, ma'am?" 
 
 At this point Willie caught Miss Ward gazing 
 intently at him ov^er the top of her slate, so he threw 
 her into violent opnfusion by winking at her.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 79 
 
 " No, boy, I can't make you a fireman. Strange 
 wish why d' you want to be one ?" 
 
 " 'Cause it 's sitch jolly fun," replied Willie, with 
 real enthusiasm, "reg'lar bangin' crashin' sort o' 
 work as good as fightin* any day ! An' my brother 
 Frank's a fireman. Sitch a one, too, you've no 
 notion: six fut four he is, an' as strong as oh! 
 why, ma'am, he could take you up in one hand, 
 mjjram, an' twirl you round his head like an old hat ! 
 He was at the fire in Beverly Square last night." 
 
 This speech was delivered with such vehemence, 
 contained so many objectionable sentiments, and 
 involved such a dreadful supposition in regard to 
 the treatment of Miss Tippet's person, that the 
 worthy lady was shocked beyond all expression. The 
 concluding sentence, however, diverted her thoughts. 
 
 " Ah ! was he indeed at that sad fire, and did he 
 help to put it out ?" 
 
 "Sure, an' he did more than that," exclaimed 
 Matty, regarding the boy with sudden interest. " If 
 that was yer brother that saved Miss Loo he's a 
 ra'al man " 
 
 " Saved Loo !" cried Miss Tippet ; " was it your 
 brother that saved Loo ?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, it was." 
 
 " Bless him ; he is a noble fellow, and I have 
 great pleasure in taking you by the hand for his 
 sake.'
 
 80 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Miss Tippet suited the action to the word, and 
 seized Willie's hand, which she squeezed warmly. 
 Matty Merryon, with tears in her eyes, embraced 
 him, and said that she only wished she had the 
 chance of embracing his brother too. Then they all 
 said he must stay to lunch, as it was about lunch- 
 time, and Miss Tippet added that he deserved to 
 have been born in a higher position in life at least 
 his brother did, which was the same thing, for he 
 was a true what 's-'is-name, who ought to be crowned 
 with thingumygigs. 
 
 Emma, who had latterly been looking at Willie 
 with deepening respect, immediately crowned him 
 with laurels on the slate, and then Matty rushed 
 away for the lunch-tray rejoicing in the fire, that 
 had sent her back so soon to the old mistress whom she 
 never wanted to leave ; that had afforded scope for 
 the display of such heroism, and had brought about 
 altogether such an agreeable state of unwonted 
 excitation. 
 
 Just as the party were on the point of sitting 
 down to luncheon, the street-door knocker was 
 applied to the door with an extremely firm touch. 
 
 " Miss Deemas !" exclaimed Miss Tippet. " Oh ! 
 I 'm so glad. Bush, Matty." 
 
 Matty rushed, and immediately there was a sound 
 on the wooden passage as of a gentleman with 
 heavy boots. A moment later, and Matty ushered
 
 THE LONDON F1KE BRIGADE. 81 
 
 in a very tall, broad-shouldered, strapping lady ; it 
 we may venture to use that expression in reference 
 to one of the fair sex. 
 
 Miss Deemas was a sort of human eagle. She 
 had an eagle eye, an aquiline nose, an eagle flounce, 
 and an eagle heart. Going up to Miss Tippet, she 
 put a hand on each of her shoulders, and stooping 
 down, pecked her, so to speak, on each cheek. 
 
 'VHow are you, my dear ?" said Miss Deemas, not 
 oy'any means tenderly; but much in the tone in 
 which one would expect to have one's money or 
 one's life demanded. 
 
 " Quite well, dear Julia, and so glad to see you. 
 It is so good of you to take me by surprise this way ; 
 just at lunch- time too. Another plate and knife, 
 Matty. This is a little boy a friend not exactly 
 a friend, but a a thingumy, you know." 
 
 " No I don't know, Emelina, what is the precise 
 ' thiugurny' you refer to this time," said the uncom- 
 promising and matter-of-fact Miss Deemas. 
 
 " You 're so particular, dear Julia," replied Miss 
 Tippet with a little sigh ; " a what 's-'is-n , a 
 protdgtf, you know." 
 
 "Indeed," said Miss Deemas, regarding Willie 
 with a severe frown, as if in her estimation all 
 prottgts were necessarily villains. 
 
 " Yes, dear Julia, and, would you believe it that 
 this boy's brother-in-law " 
 F
 
 82 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Brother, ma'am," interrupted Willie. 
 
 "Yes, brother, actually saved my darling's life 
 last night, at the the thing in Beverly Square." 
 
 " What ' darling's' life, and what ' thing' in 
 Beverly Square ?" demanded Miss Deemas. 
 
 " What ! have you not heard of the fire last night 
 in Beverly Square my relative, James Auherly 
 living there with his family all burnt to ashes 
 and my sweet Loo too. A what's-'is-name was 
 brought, and a brave fireman went up it, through 
 fire and water and smoke. Young Auberly went 
 up before him and fell heat and suffocation and 
 saved her in his arms, and his name is Frank, and 
 he 's this boy's brother-in-law." 
 
 To this brief summary, given with much excite- 
 ment, Miss Deemas listened with quiet composure, 
 and then said with grim sarcasm, and very slowly 
 
 " Let me see ; there was a fire in Beverly Square 
 last night, and James Auberly, living there with his 
 family, were all burned to ashes " 
 
 Miss Tippet here interrupted with " No, no ;" but 
 her stern friend imposing silence, with an eagle look, 
 continued 
 
 " All burned to ashes, and also your sweet Loo- 
 A ' what's-his-name' having been brought, a brave 
 fireman goes up it, and apparently never comes 
 down again (burned to ashes also, I fancy) ; but 
 young Auberly, who went up before him, and fell--
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 83 
 
 heat and suffocation being the result saved some 
 one named ' her' in his arms ; his name being Frank 
 (owing no doubt to his having been re-baptized, for 
 ever since I knew him he has been named Fred- 
 erick), and he is this boy's brother-in-law '" 
 
 By way of putting an extremely fine point on her 
 sarcasm, Miss Deemas turned to Willie, with a very 
 condescending air, and said 
 
 ^Pray, when did your sister marry Mr. Frederick 
 Auberly ?" 
 
 Willie, with a face of meekness, that can only be 
 likened to that of a young turtle-dove, replied 
 
 " Please, ma'am, it isn't my sister as has married 
 Mr. Auberly ; but it 's my brother, Frank Willders, 
 as hopes to marry Miss Loo Auberly, on account 
 o' havin' saved her life, w'en she comes of age, 
 ma'am." 
 
 Miss Deemas stood aghast, or rather sat aghast, 
 on receiving this reply, and scanned Willie's face 
 with one of her most eagle glances ; but that small 
 piece of impudence wore an expression of weak 
 good-nature, and winked its eyes with the humility 
 of a subdued pup, while Miss Tippet looked half- 
 horrified and half-amused; Matty grinned, and 
 Emma squeaked through her nose. 
 
 " Boy," said Miss Deemas severely, " your looks 
 belie you." 
 
 "Yes. ma'am," answered Willie, "my mother
 
 84 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 always said I wasn't half so bad as I looked ; and 
 she 's aware that I 'm absent from home." 
 
 At this point Willie allowed a gleam of intelli- 
 gence to shoot across his face, and he winked to 
 Emma, who thereupon went into private convulsions 
 in her handkerchief 
 
 " Emelina," said Miss Deemas solemnly, " let 
 me warn you against that boy. He is a bad 
 specimen of a bad sex. He is a precocious type of 
 that base, domineering, proud and perfidious creature 
 that calls itself 'lord of creation' and which, in 
 virtue of its superior physical power, takes up 
 every position in life worth having" (" except that of 
 wife and mother," meekly suggested Miss Tippet), 
 " worth having " (repeated the eagle sternly, as if the 
 position of wife and mother were not worth having), 
 " worth having, and leaves nothing for poor weak- 
 bodied, though not weak-minded woman to do, 
 except sew and teach brats. Bah ! I hate men, and 
 they hate me ; I know it, and I would not have it 
 otherwise. I wish they had never been made. I 
 wish there had been none in the world but women. 
 What a blessed world it would have been then !" 
 
 Miss Deemas hit the table with her hand, in a 
 masculine manner, so forcibly, that the plates and 
 glasses rattled, then she resumed, for she was now 
 on a favourite theme, and was delivering a lecture 
 to a select audience.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 85 
 
 " But, mark you, / 'm not going to be put down 
 by men. I mean to fight 'em with their own 
 weapons. I mean to" 
 
 She paused suddenly at this point, and, descending 
 from her platform, advised Miss Tippet to dismiss 
 the boy at once. 
 
 Poor Miss Tippet prepared to do so. She was 
 completely under the power of Miss Deemas, whom, 
 strange to say, she loved dearly. She really believed 
 tSat they agreed with each other on most points, 
 although it was quite evident that they were utterly 
 opposed to each other in everything. Wherein the 
 bond lay no philosopher could discover. Possibly 
 it lay in the fact that they were absolute extremes, 
 and, in verification of the proverb, had met. 
 
 Be this as it may, a note was quickly written to 
 her brother, Thomas Tippet, Esq., which was deli- 
 vered to Willie, with orders to take it the following 
 evening to London Bridge, in the neighbourhood of 
 which Mr. Tippet dwelt and carried on his business.
 
 CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 DISCLOSES A HIDDEN FIRE, WHICH IS SUPPOSED TO BE DNEXTINQU1 SB- 
 ABLE, AND REVEALS SOME STRANGE TIPFLINQ PROPENSITIES, ETC. 
 
 IN the afternoon of the following day Willie set 
 off to the City in quest of Mr. Thomas Tippet 
 Having to pass the King Street fire-station, he 
 resolved to look in on his brother. 
 
 The folding-doors of the engine-house were wide 
 open, and the engine itself, clean and business-like, 
 with its brass-work polished bright, stood ready for 
 instant action. Two of the firemen were conversing 
 at the open door, while several others could be seen 
 lounging about inside. In one of the former Willie 
 recognised the strong man who had collared him on 
 a well-remembered occasion. 
 
 "Please, sir," said Willie, going up to him, "is 
 Frank Willders inside ? " 
 
 " Why, youngster," said Dale, laying his hand on 
 Willie's head, " ain't you the boy that pulled our bell 
 for a lark the other night ?"
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAME8. 87 
 
 " Yes, sir, I am ; but you let me off, you know, ao 
 I hope you won't bear me ill-will now" 
 
 "That depends on how you behave in future," 
 /said Dale, with a laugh ; " but what d'you want with 
 Frank Winders?" 
 
 " 1 want to see him. He 's my brother." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! You '11 find him inside." 
 
 Willie entered the place with feelings of interest, 
 fo^-shis respect for firemen had increased greatly 
 since he had witnessed their recent doings at the 
 Beverly Square fire. 
 
 He found his brother writing at the little desk 
 that stood in the window, while five of six of his 
 comrades were chatting by the fire, and a group in 
 a corner were playing draughts and spinning yarns 
 of their old experiences. All assisted in loading the 
 air with tobacco-smoke. 
 
 The round cloth caps worn by the men gave them 
 a much more sailor-like and much less fireman-like 
 appearance than the helmets, which, with their re- 
 spective hatchets, hung on the walls, rendering the 
 apartment somewhat like a cavalry guard-room. 
 This change in the head-piece, and the removal of 
 the hatchet, was the only alteration in their cos- 
 tume in what may be styled "times of peace." 
 In other respects they were at all times accoutred, 
 and in readiness to commence instant battle with 
 the flames.
 
 88 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Hallo, Blazes ! how are ye ?" said Willie, touch- 
 ing his brother on the shoulder. 
 
 " That you, Willie ? " said Frank, without looking 
 up from his work. " Where away now ?" 
 
 " Come to tell ye there's afire," said Willie, with 
 a serious look. 
 
 "Eh? what d'ye mean?" asked Frank, look- 
 ing at his brother, as if he half-believed he was in 
 earnest. 
 
 "I mean what I say a fire here," said Willie, 
 solemnly striking his breast with his clenched fist, 
 " here in Heart Street, Buzzum Square, ragin' like 
 fury, and all the ingins o' the fire brigade, includin' 
 the float, couldn't put it out, no, nor even so much 
 as squeanch it ! " 
 
 " Then it 's of no use our turning out, I suppose ? " 
 said Frank with a smile, as he wiped his pen ; " what 
 set it alight, lad ? " 
 
 "A wax doll with flaxen hair and blue eyes," 
 answered Willie ; " them 's the things as has all 
 along done for me. When I was a boy I failed in 
 love with a noo wax doll every other day. Not 
 that I ever owned one myself; I only took a squint 
 at 'em in toy- shop winders, and they always had 
 flaxen hair and blue peepers. Now that I Ve be- 
 come a man, I Ve bin an' failed in love with a livin' 
 wax doll, an' she 's got flaxen hair an' blue eyes ; 
 moreover, she draws."
 
 WTT.UE ANNOUNCES "A FIRE."-P A GE 88.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 89 
 
 " Draws, boy ! what does she draw corks ? " in- 
 quired Frank. 
 
 " No ! " replied Willie, with a look of supreme 
 contempt ; " nothin' so low ; she draws faces an' 
 pictures like like a schoolmaster, and," added 
 Willie, with a sigh, " she 's bin an' drawed all the 
 spirit out o' this here buzzum." 
 
 "She must have left a good lot o' combustible 
 matter behind, however, if there 's such a fire raging 
 in it. Who may this pretty fire-raiser be ? " 
 
 " Her name is Emma Ward, and she b'longs to a 
 Miss Tippet, to whom she 's related somehow, but I 
 don't know where she got her nor who 's her parents. 
 This same Miss Tippet is some sort of a relation o' 
 Mr. Auberly, who sent me to her with a note, and 
 she has sent me with another note to her brother 
 near London Bridge, who, I 'spose, will send me 
 with another note to somebody else, so I 'm on my 
 way down to see him. I thought I 'd look in to 
 ask after you in passin', and cheer you on to dooty." 
 
 A violent fit of somewhat noisy coughing from 
 one of the men at the fireplace attracted Willie's 
 attention at this point in the conversation. 
 
 " Wot a noisy feller you are, Corney," remarked 
 one of the men. 
 
 " Faix," retorted Corney, " it 's noisy you 'd be too> 
 av ye had the cowld in yer chist that I have. Sure, 
 if 3 e had bin out five times in wan night as I wos
 
 90 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 on Widsenday last, wid the branch to howld in a 
 smoke as 'ud choke Baxmore hisself (an' it's well 
 known he can stand a'most anything), not to spake 
 o' the hose bu'stin' right betune me two feet." 
 
 " Come, come, Paddy," said Dale, interrupting ; 
 " don't try to choke us, now ; you know very well 
 that one of the fires was only a cut-away affair; 
 two were chimneys, and one was a false alarm." 
 
 " True for ye ! " cried Corney, who had a tendency 
 to become irascible in argument, or while defending 
 himself ; " true for ye, Mister Dale, but they was 
 alarms for all that, false or thrue, was they not 
 now ? Anyhow they alarmed me out o' me bed five 
 times in a night as cowld as the polar ragions, and 
 the last time was a raale case o' two flats burnt out, 
 an' four hours' work in iced wather." 
 
 There was a general laugh at this point, followed 
 by several coughs and sneezes, for the men were 
 all more or less afflicted with colds, owing to the 
 severity of the weather and the frequency of the 
 fires that had occurred at that time. 
 
 " There 's some of us can sing chorus to Corney," 
 observed one of the group. "I never saw such 
 weather; and it seems to me that the worse the 
 weather the more the fires, as if they got 'em up a 
 purpose to kill us." 
 
 " Bill Moxey ! " cried another, " you 're always 
 givin' out some truism with a face like Solomon."
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 91 
 
 "Well, Jack Williams," retorted Moxey, "it's 
 more than I can say of you, for you never say any- 
 thing worth listenin' to, and you couldn't look like 
 Solomon if you was to try ever so much. You 're 
 too stoopid for that." 
 
 " I say, lads ! " cried Frank Willders, " what d' ye 
 say to send along to the doctor for another bottle o' 
 cough mixture, same as the first ? " 
 
 ^Ms proposal was received with a general laugh. 
 
 "He'll not send us more o' that tipple, you may 
 depend," said Williams. 
 
 " No, not av we wos dyin'," said Corney, with a 
 grin. 
 
 " What was it ? " asked Williams. 
 
 "Didn't you hear about it?" inquired Moxey. 
 " Oh, to be sure not ; you were in hospital after you 
 got run over by the Baker Street engine. Tell him 
 about it, Corney. It was you that asked the doctor, 
 wasn't it, for another bottle ? " 
 
 Corney was about to speak, when a young fireman 
 entered the room with his helmet hanging on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Is it go on ? " he inquired, looking round. 
 
 " No, it 's go back, young Bags," replied Baxmore, 
 as he refilled his pipe; "it was only a chimney, 
 so you 're not wanted." 
 
 " Can any o' you fellers lend me a bit o' baccy ' " 
 asked Kags. " I 've forgot to fetch mine."
 
 92 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Here you are," said Dale, offering him a piece of 
 
 twist. 
 
 " Han't ye got a bit o' hard baccy for the tooth ? " 
 said Eags. 
 
 "Will that do?" asked Frank Willders, cutting 
 off a piece from a plug of cavendish. 
 
 " Thank 'ee. Good afternoon." 
 
 Young Rags put the quid in his cheek, and went 
 away humming a tune. 
 
 In explanation of the above incident, it is neces- 
 sary to tell the reader that when a fire occurs in 
 any part of London at the present tune, the fire- 
 station nearest to it at once sends out its engines 
 and men, and telegraphs to the head or centre 
 station at Watling Street. London is divided into 
 four districts, each district containing several fire 
 stations, and being presided over by a foremaa 
 From Watling Street the news is telegraphed to the 
 foremen's stations, whence it is transmitted to the 
 stations of their respective districts, so that in a few 
 minutes after the breaking out of a fire the fact is 
 known to the firemen all over London. 
 
 As we have said, the stations nearest to the scene 
 of conflagration turn out engines and men ; but the 
 other stations furnish a man each. Thus machinery 
 is set in motion which moves, as it were, the whole 
 metropolis ; and while the engines are going to the 
 fire at full sueed, single men are setting out from
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 93 
 
 every point of the compass to walk to it, with their 
 sailors' caps on their heads and their helmets on 
 their arms. 
 
 And this takes place in the case of every alarm of 
 fire, because fire is an element that will not brook 
 delay, and it does not do to wait to ascertain whether 
 it is worth while to turn out such a force of men for 
 it or not. 
 
 ^In order, however, to prevent this unnecessary 
 assembling of men when the fire is found to be 
 trifling, or when, as is sometimes the case, it is a 
 false alarm, the fireman in charge of the engine that 
 arrives first at once sends a man back to the station 
 with a " stop," that is, with an order to telegraph 
 to the central station that the fire turns out to be 
 only a chimney or a false alarm, and that all hands 
 who have started from the distant stations may be 
 "stopped." The "stop" is at once telegraphed to 
 the foremen, from whom it is passed (just as the 
 " call " had been) to the outlying stations, and this 
 second telegram may arrive within quarter of an 
 hour of the first. 
 
 Of course the man from each station has set out 
 before that time, and the " stop " is too late for him, 
 but it is his duty to call at the various fire stations 
 he happens to pass on the way, where he soon finds 
 out whether he is to " go on " or to " go back." 
 
 If no telegram has been received, he goes on to
 
 04 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 the fire ; sometimes walking four or five miles to it, 
 " at not less than four miles an hour." On coming 
 up to the scene of conflagration he puts on his 
 helmet, thrusts his cap into the breast of liis coat, 
 and reports himself to the chief of the fire brigade 
 (who is usually on the spot), or to the foreman in 
 command, and finds, probably, that he has arrived 
 just in time to be of great service in the way of 
 relieving the men who first attacked the flames. 
 
 If, on the other hand, he finds that the " stop " 
 has been telegraphed, he turns back before having 
 gone much more than a mile from his own station, 
 and so goes quietly home to bed. In the days of 
 which we write the effective and beautiful system 
 of telegraphy which now exists had not been applied 
 to the fire stations of London, and the system of 
 " stops " and " calls," although in operation, was 
 carried out much less promptly and effectively by 
 means of messengers. 
 
 Some time before the entrance of Willie Willders 
 into the King Street station the engine had been 
 turned out to a fire close at hand, which proved to 
 be only a chimney on fire, and which was put out by 
 means of a hand-pump and a bucket of water, while 
 Moxey was sent back with the " stop " to the station. 
 The affair was over and almost forgotten, and the 
 men had resumed their pipes, as we have seen, when 
 young Rags entered and was told to " go back."
 
 THE LONDON FIHE BRIGADE. 95 
 
 Apologizing for this necessary digression, we 
 return to Joe Corney. 
 
 "The fact was," said he, "that we had had a 
 fearful time of it that winter blowin' great guns 
 an' snow nearly every niaht, an' what wi' heat at 
 the fires an' cowld i' tne streets, an' hot wather 
 pourin' on us at wan minit an' freezin' on us the 
 nixt, a'most every man Jack of us was coughin' an' 
 sneezin', and watherin' so bad at our eyes an' noses, 
 tHat I do belave if we 'd held 'em over the suction- 
 pipes we might ha' filled the ingins without throublin' 
 the mains at all. So the doctor he said, says he, 
 ' Lads, I '11 send ye a bottle o' stuff as '11 put ye right.' 
 An' sure enough down comes the bottle that night 
 when we was smokin' our pipes just afther roll-call. 
 It turned out to be the best midcine ever was. 
 ' Musha ! ' says I, ' here 's the top o' the marnin' to 
 ye, boys ! ' Baxmore he smacks his lips when he 
 tastes it, opens his eyes, tosses off the glass, and 
 holds it out for another. ' Howld on ; fair play ! ' 
 cried Jack Williams, so we all had a glass round. 
 It was just like lemonade or ginger-beer, it was. 
 So we sat down an' smoked our pipes over it, an' 
 spun yarns an' sung songs ; in fact, we made a 
 jollification of it, an' when we got up to turn in 
 there warn't a dhrop left i' the bottle ! 
 
 ." ' You better go to the doctor for another bottle, 
 says Moxey, as he wint out.
 
 96 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 " ' I will,' says I ; ' I '11 go i' the marnin'. 
 
 " Sure enough away I goes i' the marnin' to Doctor 
 Offley. ' Doctor,' says I, howldin' out the bottle, 
 ' we all think our colds are much the better o' this 
 here midcine, an' I corned, av ye plaze, for another 
 o' the same.' 
 
 " Musha ! but ye should ha' seen the rage he goes 
 off into. ' Finished it all ?' says he. ' Ivery dhrop, 
 doctor,' says I, ' at wan sittinV At that he stamped 
 an' swore at me, an' ordered me away as if I 'd bin 
 a poor relation ; an' says he, ' I 'U sind ye a bottle 
 to-night as '11 cure ye!' Sure so he did. The 
 second bottle would have pison'd a rat. It lasted us 
 all six months, an' I do belave ye 11 find the most of 
 it in the cupboard at this minnit av ye look" 
 
 " Come, Willie," said Frank, while the men were 
 laughing, at the remembrance of this incident, " I 'm 
 going down your way and will give you a convoy 
 We can take a look in at the gymnastics as we pass, 
 if you choose." 
 
 " All right, Blazes, come along." So saying they 
 left the station, and set off at a brisk pace in the 
 direction of the City.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHEREIN WILL BE FOUND REFERENCE TO AUCTIONS AND GYMNASTICS. 
 
 I* 
 
 As the brothers drew near to the busy region of 
 the City which lies to the north of London Bridge, 
 Frank turned aside into one of the narrow streets 
 that diverge from the main thoroughfare. 
 
 " Where are ye goin' ?" inquired Willie. 
 
 " There was a fire here last night," said Frank ; " I 
 want to have a look at the damage." 
 
 " A fire !" exclaimed Willie. " Why, Blazes, it 
 strikes me there's bin more fires than usual last 
 night in London." 
 
 " Only two, lad." 
 
 " Only two ! How many would you have ?" asked 
 Willie, with a laugh. 
 
 "Don't you know," said Frank, "that we have 
 about four fires every night ? Sometimes more, some- 
 times fewer. Of course, we don't all of us turn out 
 to them ; but some of the brigade turn out to that 
 number, on an average, every night of the year." 
 
 " Are ye jokin', Frank ?" 
 
 Q
 
 98 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Indeed I am not. I wish with all my heart 
 I could say that I was joking. It's a fact, boy. 
 You know I have not been long in the force, yet 
 I Ve gone to as many as six fires in one night, and 
 we often go to two or three. The one we are going 
 to see the remains of just now was too far from us 
 for our engine to turn out ; but we got the call to 
 send a man on, and I was sent. When I arrived 
 and reported myself to Mr. Braidwood, the two top 
 floors were burnt out, and the fire was nearly got 
 under. There were three engines, and the men 
 were up on the window-sills of the second floor, 
 with the branches, playin' on the last of the flames, 
 while the men of the salvage-corps were getting 
 the furniture out of the first floor. Conductor 
 Brown was there with his escape, and had saved a 
 whole family from the top floor, just before I 
 arrived. He had been changed from his old station 
 at the west end that very day. He 's a wonderful 
 fellow that conductor ! Many a life he has saved ; 
 but indeed, the same may be said of most of the 
 men in the force, especially the old hands. Here 
 we are, lad. This is the house." 
 
 Frank stopped, as he spoke, in front of a ruined 
 tenement ; or rather, in front of the gap which was 
 now strewn with the charred and blackened debris 
 of what had once been a house. The street in 
 which it stood was a narrow mean one, inhabited by
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 99 
 
 a poor, and, to judge from appearance, a dissipated 
 class. The remains of the house were guarded by 
 policemen, while a gang of men were engaged in 
 digging among the ruins, which still smoked a little 
 here and there. 
 
 "What are they diggin' for ?" asked Willie. 
 
 " I fear they are looking for dead bodies. The 
 house was let out to lodgers, and swarmed with 
 pepple. At first it was thought that all were saved ; 
 but just before I was ordered home, after the fire 
 was got under, some one said that an old man and 
 his grandchild were missing. I suppose they're 
 looking for them now." 
 
 On inquiring of a policeman, however, Frank 
 learned that the remains of the old man and his grand- 
 child had already been found, and that they were 
 searching for the bodies of others who were missing. 
 
 A little beyond the spot where the fire had 
 occurred, a crowd was gathered round a man who 
 stood on a chair haranguing them, with apparently 
 considerable effect, for ever and anon his observa- 
 tions were received with cries of " Hear, hear," and 
 laughter ! Going along the middle of the narrow 
 street, in order to avoid the smells of the old- 
 clothes'-shops and pawnbrokers, as well as the risk 
 of contact with their wares, Frank and Willie 
 elbowed their way through the crowd to within a 
 few yards of the speaker.
 
 100 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 "What is he?" inquired Frank of a rather dis- 
 sipated elderly woman. 
 
 " He 's a clown, or a hacrobat, or somethink of 
 that sort, in one of the theatres or music-'alls. He's 
 bin burnt out of his 'ome last night, an's a-sellin' 
 off all he 's been able to save by hauction." 
 
 " Come, now, ladies an' gents," cried the clown, 
 taking up a rather seedy-looking great-coat, which 
 he held aloft with one hand, and pointed to it with 
 the other, " Who 's agoin' to bid for this 'ere gar- 
 ment a hextra superfine, double-drilled, kershimere 
 great-coat, fresh from the looms o' Tuskany at 
 least it was fresh from 'em ten years ago (that was 
 when my grandfather was made Lord Mayor of 
 London), an' its bin renewing its youth (the coat, 
 not the Lord Mayor) ever since. It 's more glossy, 
 I do assure you, ladies and gents, than w*en it fust 
 corned from the looms, by reason of the pile havin' 
 worn off; and you'll obsarve that the glossiness is 
 most beautiful and brightest - about the elbows an' 
 the seams o' the back Who bids for this 'ere 
 venerable garment ? Six bob ? Come now, don't all 
 bid at once. Who said six bob ?" 
 
 No reply being made to this except a laugh, the 
 slown (who, by the way, wore a similarly glossy 
 great-coat, with a hat to match) protested that his 
 ears must have deceived him, or his imaginatior 
 had been whispering hopeful things which was
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 101 
 
 not unlikely, for his imagination was a very power- 
 ful one, when he noticed Frank's tall figure among 
 the crowd. 
 
 "Come now, fireman, this is the wery harticle 
 you wants. You corned out to buy it, I know, an' 
 'ere it is, by a strange coincidence, ready-made to 
 hand. What d'ye bid ? Six bob ? Or say -five. I 
 know you 've got a wife an' a large family o' young 
 firQiwen to keep, so I '11 let it go cheap. P'raps it 's 
 too small for you; but that's easy put right. 
 You Ve only got to slit it up behind to the neck, 
 which is a' infallible cure for a tight fit, an' you can 
 let down the cuffs, which is double, an' if it 's short 
 you can cut off the collar, an' sew it on to the skirts. 
 It 's water-proof too, and fire-proof, patent asbestos. 
 Wen it 's dirty, you 've got nothin' to do but walk 
 into the fire, an' it'll come out noo. W'en it's 
 thoroughly wet on the houtside, turn it inside hout, 
 an' there you are, to all appearance, as dry as bone. 
 What ! you won't have it at no price ? Well, now, 
 1 11 tempt you. I '11 make it two bob." 
 
 " Say one," cried a baker, who had been listening 
 to this, with a broad grin on his floury countenance. 
 
 "Ladies and gents," cried the clown, drawing 
 himself up with dignity ; " there 's an individual in 
 this crowd I beg parden, this assemblage as asks 
 me to say ' one.' I do say ' one,' an' I say it with 
 melancholly feelin's as to the liberality of my speciea
 
 102 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 One bob ! A feller-man as has bin burnt hout of 'is 
 'ome an' needs ready money to keep 'im from 
 starvation, offers his best great- coat a hextra 
 superfine, double-drilled (or milled, I forget Vich) 
 kershimere, from the looms o' Tuskany for one 
 bob!" 
 
 " One-an'-six," muttered an old-clothesman, with 
 a black cotton sack on his shoulder. 
 
 " One-an'-six," echoed the clown with animation ; 
 " one-an'-six bid ; one-an'-six. Who said one -an' 
 seven 1 ! Was it the gent with the red nose? No. 
 one-an'-six ; goin' at the ridiculously low figure of 
 one-an'-six gone ! as the old 'ooman said w'en her 
 cat died o' appleplexy. Here you are; hand over 
 the money. I can't knock it down to you, 'cause 
 I haven't a hauctioneer's 'ammer. Besides, it's 
 agin' my principles. I've never knocked nothin 1 
 down, not even a skittle, since I joined the Peace 
 Society. 
 
 " Now, ladies an' gents, the next thing I 've got 
 to hoffer is a harm -chair. Hand up the harm-chair, 
 Jim." 
 
 A very antique piece of furniture was handed up 
 by a little boy, whom Willie recognised as the little 
 boy who had once conversed with him in front of 
 the chocolate-shop in Holborn Hill 
 
 " Thank you, my son," said the clown, taking the 
 chair with one hand and patting the boy's head with
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 105 
 
 the other ; " this, ladies and gents," he added, in a 
 parenthetical tone, " is my son ; he 's bin burnt hout 
 of 'ouse an 'ome too ! Now, then, who bids for the 
 old harm -chair? the wery identical harm -chair 
 that the song was written about. In the embrace 
 o' this 'ere chair has sat for generations past the 
 family o' the Cattleys that 's my name, ladies an' 
 gents, at your service. Here sat my great-great- 
 grandfather, who was used to say that his great- 
 grandfather sat in it too. Here sat his son, and his 
 son's son the Lord Mayor as was and his son, 
 my father, ladies and gents, who died in it besides, 
 and whose son now hoffers it to the 'ighest bidder. 
 You '11 observe its antiquity, ladies an' gents. That's 
 its beauty. It 's what I may call, in the language of 
 the haristocracy, a harticle of virtoo, w'ich means 
 that it's a harticle as is surrounded by virtuous 
 memories in connexion with the defunct. Now, 
 then, say five bob for the hold harm-chair ! " 
 
 While the clown was endeavouring to get the 
 chair disposed of, Willie pushed his way to the side 
 of Jim Cattley. 
 
 "I say, youngster, would you like a cup o' choco- 
 late ? " began Willie, by way of recalling to the boy 
 their former meeting. 
 
 Jim, whose face wore a sad and dispirited look, 
 turned angrily and said, " Come, I don't want none 
 o' your sauce ' '
 
 104 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 "It ain't sauce I'm talkin' of, it's chocolate," 
 retorted Willie. " But come, Jim, I don't want to 
 bother ye. I'm sorry to see you an' yer dad in 
 sitch a fix. Have you lost much ? " 
 
 " It 's not what we 've lost that troubles us," said 
 Jim, softened by Willie's sympathetic tone more 
 than by his words; "but sister Ziza is took bad, 
 an' she 's a fairy at Drury Lane, an' takin' her down 
 the fire-escape has well-nigh killed her, an' we've 
 got sitch a cold damp cellar of a place to put her in 
 that I don't think she '11 get better at all ; anyhow, 
 she '11 lose her engagement, for she can't make two 
 speeches an' go up in a silver cloud among blue fire 
 with the 'flooenzer, an' 'er 'air all but singed off 'er 
 'ead." 
 
 Jim almost whimpered at this point, and Willie, 
 quitting his side abruptly, went back to Frank (who 
 was still standing an amused auditor of the clown), 
 and demanded a shilling. 
 
 "What for, lad?" 
 
 " Never you mind, Blazes ; but give me the 
 oob, an' I'll pay you back before the week's 
 out." 
 
 Frank gave him a shilling, with which he at once 
 returned to Jim, and thrusting it into his hand, 
 said 
 
 " There, Jim, your dad 's hard up just now. Go 
 you an' get physic with that for the fairy. Them
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 105 
 
 'flooenzers is ticklish things to play with. Where 
 d' ye stop ? " 
 
 " Well, you are a queer 'un ; thank 'ee all the 
 same," said Jim, pocketing the shilling. " We 've 
 got a sort o' cellar just two doors east o' the burnt 
 'ouse. Why ? " 
 
 "'Cause I'll come an' see you, Jim. I'd like 
 to see a live fairy in plain clo'se, with her wings 
 off-*," 
 
 The rest of the sentence was cut short by the 
 clown, who, having disposed of the old arm-chair to 
 a chimney-sweep, ordered Jim to " 'and up another 
 harticle." At the same moment Frank touched 
 Willie on the shoulder, and said, "Let's go, lad; 
 I '11 be late, I fear, for the gymnastics." 
 
 At the period of which we write the then Chief 
 of the London Fire Brigade, Mr. Braidwood, had 
 introduced a system of gymnastic training among 
 the firemen, which he had found from experience to 
 be a most useful exercise to fit the men for the 
 arduous work they had to perform. Before going 
 to London to take command of and reorganize the 
 brigade which then went by the name of the London 
 Fire-Engine Establishment, and was in a very un- 
 satisfactory condition, Mr. Braidwood had, for a long 
 period, been chief of the Edinburgh Fire Brigade, 
 which he had brought to a state of great efficiency. 
 Taking the requirements and conditions of the ser-
 
 106 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 vice in Edinburgh into consideration, he had come 
 to the conclusion that the best men for the work in 
 that city were masons, house-carpenters, slaters, and 
 suchlike; but these men, when at their ordinary 
 employments, being accustomed to bring only certain 
 muscles into full play, were found to have a degree 
 of stiffness in their general movements which pre- 
 vented them from performing their duty as firemen 
 with that ease and celerity which are so desirable. 
 To obviate this evil he instituted the gymnastic 
 exercises, which, by bringing all the muscles of the 
 body into action, and by increasing the development 
 of the frame generally, rendered the men lithe and 
 supple, and in every way more fitted for the per- 
 formance of duties in which their lives frequently 
 depended on their promptitude and vigour. 
 
 In addition to these advantages, it was found that 
 those exercises gave the men confidence when placed 
 in certain situations of danger " For example," 
 writes J\Ir. Braidwood,* " a fireman untrained in 
 gymnastics, in the third or fourth floor of a burning 
 house, with the branch in his hands, who is uncer- 
 tain as to his means of escape, in the event of his 
 return by the stair being cut off, will be too much 
 concerned about his own safety to render much 
 service, and will certainly not be half so efficient as 
 
 * See the interesting little book entitled Fire Prevention and F\rt 
 Extinction, by James Braidwood.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 107 
 
 the experienced gymnast who, with a hatchet and 
 eighty feet of rope at his waist, and a window near 
 him, feels himself in comparative security, knowing 
 that he has the means and the power of lowering 
 himself easily and safely into the street," a know- 
 ledge which not only gives him confidence, but 
 enables him to give his undistracted attention to 
 the exigencies of the fire. 
 
 JEt was to attend this gymnastic class that Frank 
 now turned aside, and proposed to bid Willie good- 
 bye ; but Willie begged to be taken into the room. 
 Frank complied, and the boy soon found himself in 
 an apartment fitted up with all the appliances of a 
 gymnasium, where a number of powerful young men 
 were leaping, vaulting, climbing, and in other ways 
 improving their physical powers. Frank joined 
 them, and for a long time Willie stood in rapt and 
 envious contemplation of the busy scene. 
 
 At first he could not avoid feeling that there 
 seemed a good deal more of play than business 
 in their doings ; but his admiration of the scene 
 deepened when he remembered the bold acts of the 
 firemen at Beverly Square, and recognised some of 
 the faces of the men who had been on duty there, 
 and reflected that these very men, who seemed thus to 
 be playing themselves, would on that very night, in 
 all probability, be called upon to exert these powers 
 sternly and seriously, yet coolly, in the midst of
 
 108 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 scenes of terror and confusion, and in the face of 
 imminent personal danger. 
 
 Brooding over these things, Willie, having at 
 length torn himself away, hastened on his pilgrim- 
 age to London Bridge.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 E WHICH DIFFICULTIES AND DISSIPATIONS ARE TREATED O3T. 
 
 "St. 
 
 f> 
 
 IN a very small office, situate in a very large 
 warehouse, in that great storehouse of the world's 
 wealth, Tooley Street, sat a clerk named Edward 
 Hooper. 
 
 Among his familiar friends Edward was better 
 known by the name of Ned. 
 
 He was seated on the top of a tall three-legged 
 stool, which, to judge from the uneasy and restless 
 motions of its occupant, must have been a peculiarly 
 uncomfortable seat indeed. 
 
 There was a clock on the wall just opposite to 
 Ned's desk, which that young gentleman was in the 
 habit of consulting frequently very frequently 
 and comparing with his watch, as if he doubted its 
 veracity. This was very unreasonable, for he 
 always found that the two timepieces told the 
 truth ; at least, that they agreed with each other. 
 Nevertheless, in his own private heart, Ned Hooper 
 
 thought that clock and sometimes called ifc-- 
 
 100
 
 110 FIGHTING THE FLAMES A TALE OF 
 
 " the slowest piece of ancient furniture he had evei 
 seen." 
 
 During one of Ned's comparisons of the two time- 
 pieces the door opened, and Mr. Auberly entered, 
 with a dark cloud, figuratively speaking, on his 
 brow. 
 
 At the same moment the door of an inner office 
 opened, and Mr. Auberly's head clerk, who had 
 seen his employer's approach through the dusty 
 window, issued forth and bowed respectfully, with 
 a touch of condolence in his air, as he referred with 
 much regret to the fire at Beverly Square, and 
 hoped that Miss Auberly was not much the worse 
 of her late alarm. 
 
 " Well, she is not the better for it," said Mr. 
 Auberly ; " but I hope she will be quite well soon. 
 Indeed, the doctor assures me of this, if care is taken 
 of her. I wish that was the only thing on my 
 mind just now ; but I 'm perplexed about another 
 matter, Mr. Quill. Are you alone ?" 
 
 " Quite alone, sir," said Quill, throwing open the 
 door of the inner office. 
 
 " I want to consult with you about Frederick," 
 said Mr. Auberly as he entered. 
 
 The door shut out the remainder of the consulta- 
 tion at this point, so Edward Hooper consulted the 
 clock again and sighed 
 
 If sighs could have delivered Hooper from his
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. Ill 
 
 sorrows, there is no doubt that the accumulated 
 millions of which he was delivered in that office, 
 during the last five years, would have filled him with 
 a species of semi-celestial bliss. 
 
 At last, the hands of the clock reached the hour, 
 the hour that was wont to evoke Ned's last sigh and 
 set him free ; but it was an aggravating clock. 
 Nothing would persuade it to hurry. It would not, 
 for^-all the untold wealth contained in the great 
 stores of Tooley Street, have abated the very last 
 second of the last minute of the hour. On the 
 contrary, it went through that second quite as slowly 
 as all the others. Ned fancied it went much 
 slower at that one on purpose ; and then, with a 
 sneaking parade of its intention to begin to strike, 
 it gave a prolonged hiss, and did its duty, and 
 nothing but its duty ; by striking the hour at a pace 
 so slow, that it recalled forcibly to Ned Hooper's 
 imaginative mind " the minute-gun at sea." 
 
 There was a preliminary warning given by that 
 clock some time before the premonitory hiss. Be- 
 tween this harbinger of coming events, and the joy- 
 ful sound which was felt to be " an age," Ned was 
 wont to wipe his pen and arrange his papers. When 
 the hiss began, he invariably closed his warehouse- 
 book and laid it in the desk, and had the desk 
 locked before the first stroke of the hour. While the 
 " minute-gun at sea" was going on, he changed his
 
 112 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 office-coat for a surtout, not perfectly new, and a 
 white hat with a black band, the rim of which was 
 not perfectly straight. So exact and methodical 
 was Ned in these operations, that his hand usually 
 fell on the door-latch as the last gun was fired by 
 the aggravating clock. On occasions of unusual 
 celerity he even managed to drown the last shot in 
 the bang of the door, and went off with a sensation 
 of triumph. 
 
 On the present occasion, however, Ned Hooper 
 deemed it politic to be so busy, that he could not 
 attend to the warnings of the timepiece. He even 
 sat on his stool a full quarter of an hour beyond the 
 time of departure. At length Mr. Auberly issued 
 forth. 
 
 " Mr. Quill," said he, " my mind is made up, so it 
 is useless to urge such considerations on me. Good- 
 night." 
 
 Mr. Quill, whose countenance was sad, looked as 
 though he would willingly have urged the considera- 
 tions referred to over again, and backed them up 
 with a few more ; but Mr. Auberly's tone was 
 peremptory, so he only opened the door, and bowed 
 the great man out. 
 
 "You can go, Hooper," said Mr. Quill, retiring 
 slowly to the inner office, " I will lock up. Send 
 the porter here." 
 
 This was a quite unnecessary permission. Mr
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 113 
 
 Quill, being a good-natured, easy-going man, never 
 found fault with Ned Hooper, and Ned being a 
 presumptuous young fellow, though good-humoured 
 enough, never waited for Mr. Quill's permission to 
 go. He was already in the act of putting on the 
 white hat ; and, two seconds afterwards, was in the 
 street wending his way homeward. 
 
 There was a tavern named the "Angel" at the 
 corner of one of the streets off Tooley Street, which 
 Edward Hooper had to pass every evening on his 
 way home. Ned, we grieve to say, was fond of his 
 beer ; he always found it difficult to pass a tavern. 
 Yet, curiously enough, he never found any difficulty 
 in passing this tavern ; probably because he always 
 went in and slaked his thirst before passing it. 
 
 "Good-evening, Mr. Hooper," said the landlord, 
 who was busy behind his counter serving a motley 
 and disreputable crew. 
 
 Hooper nodded in reply, and said good- evening 
 to Mrs. Butler, who attended to the customers at 
 another part of the counter. 
 
 " Good-evenin', sir. Wat '11 you 'ave to-night, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Pot o' the sarae, Mrs. B.," replied Ned. 
 
 This was the invariable question and reply, for 
 Ned was a man of regularity and method in every- 
 thing that affected his personal comforts. Had he 
 brought one-tenth of this regularity and method to 
 a
 
 114 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 bear on his business conduct, he would have been a 
 better and a happier man. 
 
 The foaming pot was handed, and Ned conversed 
 with Mrs. Butler while he enjoyed it, and com- 
 menced his evening, which usually ended in semi- 
 intoxication. 
 
 Meanwhile Edward Hooper's " chum" and fellow- 
 lodger sat in their mutual chamber awaiting him. 
 
 John Barret did not drink, but he smoked ; and, 
 while waiting for his companion, he solaced himself 
 with a pipe. He was a fine manly fellow, very dif- 
 ferent from Ned ; who, although strong of limb and 
 manly enough, was slovenly in gait and dress, and 
 bore unmistakable marks of dissipation about him. 
 
 "Very odd; he's later than usual," muttered 
 Barret, as he glanced out at the window, and then 
 at the tea-table, which, with the tea-service, and, 
 indeed everything in the room, proved that the 
 young men were by no means wealthy. 
 
 " He '11 be taking an extra pot at the ' Angel,' " 
 muttered John Barret, proceeding to re-light his 
 pipe, while he shook his head gravely ; " but he 11 
 be here soon." 
 
 A foot on the stair caused Barret to believe that 
 he was a true prophet ; but the rapidity and firm- 
 ness of the step quickly disabused him of that idea. 
 
 The door was flung open with a crash, and a 
 hearty youth with glowing eyes strode in.
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 115 
 
 " Fred Auberly !" exclaimed Barret in surprise. 
 
 " Won't you welcome me ? " demanded Fred. 
 
 " Welcome you ? Of course I will, most heartily, 
 old boy ! " cried Barret, seizing his friend's hand 
 and wringing it ; " but if you burst in on a fellow 
 unexpectedly in this fashion, and with such wild 
 looks, why " 
 
 " Well, well, don't explain, man ; I hate explana- 
 tion^ I have come here for sympathy." said Fred 
 Auberly, shutting the door and sitting down by 
 the fire. 
 
 " Sympathy, Fred ?" 
 
 " Ay, sympathy. When a man is in distress he 
 naturally craves for sympathy, and he turns, also 
 naturally, to those who can and will give it not to 
 everybody, John Barret only to those who can feel 
 with him as well as for him. I am in distress, John, 
 and ever since you and I fought our first and last 
 battle at Eton, I have found you a true sympathizer. 
 So now, is your heart ready to receive the flood of 
 my sorrows ? " 
 
 Young Auberly said the latter part of this in a 
 half-jesting tone, but he was evidently in earnest, 
 so his friend replied by squeezing his hand warmly, 
 and saying, " Let 's hear about it, Fred," while he 
 relighted his pipe. 
 
 " You have but a poor lodging here, John," said 
 Auberly, looking round the room.
 
 116 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Barret turned on his friend a quick look of sur- 
 prise, and then said with a smile 
 
 " Well, I admit that it is not quite equal to a 
 certain mansion in Beverly Square that I wot of, 
 but it 's good enough for a poor clerk in an insurance 
 office." 
 
 " You are right," continued Auberly ; " it is not 
 equal to that mansion, whose upper floors are at this 
 moment a chevaux-de-frise of charcoal beams and 
 rafters depicted on a dark sky, and whose lower 
 floors are a fantastic compound of burned bricks and 
 lime, broken boards, and blackened furniture." 
 
 "You don't mean to say there's been a fire?" 
 exclaimed Barret. 
 
 " And you don't mean to tell me, do you, that a 
 clerk in a fire insurance office does not know it ? " 
 
 " I have been ill for two days," returned Barret, 
 " and have not seen the papers ; but I 'm very sorry 
 to hear of it ; indeed I am. The house is insured, 
 of course ? " 
 
 "I believe it is," replied Fred carelessly; "but 
 that is not what troubles me." 
 
 " No ? " exclaimed his friend. 
 
 " No," replied the other. " If the house had not 
 been insured my father has wealth enough in these 
 abominably unpicturesque stores in Tooley Street to 
 rebuild the whole of Beverly Square if it were burnt 
 down. The fire costs me not a thought, although,
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BEIGADE. 117 
 
 by the way, it nearly cost me my life, in a vain 
 attempt I made to rescue my poor dear sister Loo " 
 
 " Vain attempt ! " exclaimed Barret, with a look 
 of concern. 
 
 " Ay, vain, as far as I was concerned ; but a noble 
 fireman a fellow that would make a splendid model 
 for Hercules in the Life Academy sprang to the 
 rescue after me and saved her. God bless him ! 
 Dean. Loo has got a severe shake, but the doctors 
 say that we have only to take good care of her, and 
 she will do well But to return to my woes. Listen, 
 John, and you shall hear." 
 
 Fred Auberly paused, as though meditating how 
 he should commence. 
 
 "You know," said he, "that I am my father's 
 jnly son, and Loo his only daughter." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, my father has disinherited me and left the 
 whole of his fortune to Loo. As far as dear Loo is 
 concerned I am glad ; for myself I am sad, for it is 
 awkward, to say the least of it, to have been brought 
 up with unlimited command of pocket-money and 
 expectations of considerable wealth, and suddenly 
 to find myself all but penniless, without a profession 
 and without expectations, at the age of twenty- 
 two." 
 
 He paused and looked at his friend, who sat mute 
 with amazement.
 
 1 18 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Failing Loo," continued Fred calmly, " my 
 father's fortune goes to some distant relative." 
 
 " But why ? wherefore ? " exclaimed Barret. 
 
 " You shall hear," continued Auberly. " You are 
 aware that ever since I was able to burn the end of 
 a stick and draw faces on the nursery-door, I have 
 had a wild insatiable passion for drawing ; and ever 
 since the memorable day on which I was whipped 
 by my father, and kissed, tearfully, by my beloved 
 mother, for caricaturing our cook on the dining- 
 room window with a diamond ring, I have had an 
 earnest, unextinguishable desire to become a a 
 painter, an artist, a dauber, a dirtier of canvas. 
 D' ye understand ? " 
 
 " Perfectly," said Barret. 
 
 " Well, my father has long been resolved, it seems, 
 to make me a man of business, for which I have no 
 turn whatever. You are aware that for many years 
 I have dutifully slaved and toiled at these heavy 
 books in our office which have proved so heavy 
 that they have nearly squeezed the soul out of me 
 and instead of coming to like them better (as I was 
 led to believe I should), I have only come to hate 
 them more. During all this time, too, I have been 
 studying painting late and early, and although I 
 have not gone through the regular academical course, 
 I have studied much in the best of all schools, that 
 of Nature. I have urged upon my father repeatedly
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 119 
 
 and respectfully, that it is possible for me to uphold 
 the credit of the family as a painter ; that, as the 
 business can be carried on by subordinates, there is 
 no necessity for me to be at the head of it ; and 
 that, as he has made an ample fortune already, the 
 half of which he had told me was to be mine, I 
 would be quite satisfied with my share, and did not 
 want any more. But my father would never listen 
 to ,firy arguments. The last time we got on the 
 subject he called me a mean-spirited fellow, and 
 said he was sorry I had ever been born ; whereupon 
 I expressed regret that he had not been blessed with 
 a more congenial and satisfactory son, and tried to 
 point out that it was impossible to change my 
 nature. Then I urged all the old arguments over 
 again, and wound up by saying that even if I were 
 to become possessor of the whole of his business 
 to-morrow, I would sell it off, take to painting as a 
 profession, and become the patron of aspiring young 
 painters from that date forward ! 
 
 " To my surprise and consternation, this last re- 
 mark put him in such a towering rage, that he vowed 
 he would disinherit me, if I did not then and there 
 throw my palette and brushes into the fire. Of 
 course, I declined to do such an act, whereupon he 
 dismissed me from his presence for ever. This 
 occurred on the morning of the day of the fire. I 
 thought he might perhaps relent after such an
 
 120 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 evidence of the mutability of human affairs. I even 
 ventured to remind him that Tooley Street was not 
 made of asbestos, and that an occasional fire occurred 
 there ! Bat this made him worse than ever ; so I 
 went the length of saying that I would, at all events, 
 in deference to his wishes, continue to go to the office 
 at least for some time to come. But, alas ! I had 
 roused him to such a pitch that he refused to hear 
 of it, unless I should ' throw my palette and brushes 
 into the fire !' Flesh and blood, you know, could 
 not do that, so I left him, and walked off twenty 
 miles into the country to relieve my feelings. There 
 I fell in with such a splendid " bit ;" a sluice, with a 
 stump of a tree, and a winding bit of water with 
 overhanging willows, and a peep of country beyond ' 
 I sat down and sketched, and forgot my woes, and 
 rejoiced in the fresh air and delightful sounds of birds, 
 and cows, and sheep, and hated to think of Tooley 
 Street. Then I slept in a country inn, walked 
 back to London next day, and, voild ! here I am !" 
 
 " Don't you think, Fred, that time will soften 
 your father?" 
 
 " No, I don't think it. On the contrary, I know 
 it won't. He is a good man ; but he has an iron 
 will, which I never saw subdued. 
 
 " Then, my dear Fred, I advise you to consider 
 the propriety of throwing your palette and brushes 
 into"
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 121 
 
 " My dear John, I did not come here for youi 
 advice. I came for your sympathy." 
 
 " And you have it, Fred," cried Barret earnestly. 
 "But have you really such an unconquerable love 
 for painting ?" 
 
 " Have I really !" echoed Fred. " Do you think I 
 would have come to such a pass as this for a trifle ? 
 Why man, you have no idea how my soul longs 
 fdr the life of a painter, for the free fresh air of the 
 country, for the poetry of the woods, the water, and 
 the sky, for the music of bird and beast and run- 
 ning brook. You know the true proverb, 'Man 
 made the town ; but God made the country !' " 
 
 " What," asked Barret, " would become of the 
 town, if all men thought as you do ?" 
 
 " Oh ! John Barret, has town life so marred your 
 once fine intellect, that you put such a question in 
 earnest ? Suppose I answer it by another : What 
 would become of the country if all men thought and 
 acted as you do ?" 
 
 Barret smiled and smoked. 
 
 " And what," continued Auberly, " would become 
 of the fine arts if all men delighted in dirt, dust, 
 dulness, and desks? Depend upon it, John, that 
 our tastes and tendencies are not the result of 
 accident ; they were given to us for a purpose. I 
 hold it as an axiom that when a man or a boy has 
 a strong and decided bias or partiality for any par-
 
 122 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 ticular work that he knows something about, he has 
 really a certain amount of capacity for that work 
 beyond the average of men, and is led thereto by a 
 higher power than that of man. Do not misunder- 
 stand ma I do not say that, when a boy expresses a 
 longing desire to enter the navy or the army, he has 
 necessarily an aptitude for these professions. Far 
 from it. He has only a romantic notion of some- 
 thing about which, experimentally, he knows 
 nothing ; but, when man or boy has put his hand 
 to any style of work, and thereafter loves it and 
 longs after it, I hold that that is the work for 
 which he was destined, and for which he is best 
 suited." 
 
 " Perhaps you are right," said Barret, smoking 
 harder than ever. " At all events, I heartily sym- 
 pathize with you, and " 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by 
 a loud burst of whistling, as the street-door opened 
 and the strains of " Kule Britannia" filled the entire 
 building. The music was interrupted by the sudden 
 opening of another door, and a rough growl from a 
 male voice. 
 
 " Don't get waxy, old feller," said the performer 
 in a youthful voice, " I ain't a-goin' to charge you 
 nothink for it. I always do my music gratis ; 
 havin' a bee-nevolient turn o' mind." 
 
 The door was slammed violently, and " Kule
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 123 
 
 Britaunia" immediately burst forth with renewed 
 and pointed emphasis. 
 
 Presently it ceased, and a knock came to Barret's 
 door. 
 
 " Well, what d' ye want, you noisy scamp ?" said 
 Barret, flinging the door open, and revealing the 
 small figure of Willie Willders. 
 
 " Please, sir," said Willie, consulting the back of a 
 note"; " are you Mister T Tom Tupper, Esquire?" 
 
 " No, I 'm not." 
 
 " Ain't there sitch a name in the house ?" 
 . " No, not that I know oi" 
 
 Willie's face looked blank. 
 
 " Well, I was told he lived here," he muttered, 
 again consulting the note. 
 
 " Here, let me look," said Barret, taking the note 
 from the boy. "This is Tippet, not Tupper. He 
 lives in the top floor. By the way, Auberly," said 
 Barret, glancing over his shoulder, " Isn't Tom 
 Tippet a sort of connexion of yours ?" 
 
 " Yes ; a distant one," said Fred carelessly, " too 
 distant to make it worth while our becoming 
 acquainted. He's rich and eccentric, I'm told. 
 Assuredly he must be the latter if he lives in such 
 a hole as this. What are you staring at, boy ?" 
 
 This question was put to Willie. 
 
 " Please, sir, are you the Mr. Auberly who was 
 a'most skurnfished with smoke at the Beverly
 
 124 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Square fire t'other day, in tryin* to git hold o' yei 
 sister ?" 
 
 Fred could not but smile as he admitted the fact 
 
 " Please sir, I hope yer sister ain't the wuss of it, 
 sir." 
 
 "Not much, I hope; thank you for inquiring; 
 tut how come you to know about the fire, and to be 
 interested in my sister ?" 
 
 " 'Cause I was there, sir ; an' it was my brother, 
 sir, Frank Willders, as saved your sister." 
 
 " Was it indeed !" exclaimed Fred, becoming 
 suddenly interested. "Come, let me hear more 
 about your brother." 
 
 Willie, nothing loath, related every fact he was 
 acquainted with in regard to Frank's career, and his 
 own family history, in the course of which he re- 
 vealed the object of his visit to Mr. Tippet. When 
 he had finished, Frederick Auberly shook hands 
 with him and said 
 
 " Now, Willie, go and deliver your note. If the 
 application is successful, well ; but if it fails, or you 
 don't like your work, just call upon me, and 1 11 see 
 what can be done for you." 
 
 " Yes, sir, and thankee," said Willie ; " where did 
 you say I was to call, sir ?" 
 
 " Call at eh ah yes, my boy, call here, and 
 let my friend Mr. Barret know you want to see ma 
 He will let me know, and you shall hear from ma
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 125 
 
 Just at present well, never mind, go and deliver 
 your note now. Your brother is a noble fellow. 
 Good-night. And you 're a tine little fellow your- 
 self," he added, after Willie closed the door. 
 
 The fine little fellow gave vent to such a gush of 
 " Eule Britannia" at the moment, that the two friends 
 turned with a smile to each other. 
 
 Just then a man's voice was heard at the foot of 
 the'stair, grumbling angrily. At the same moment 
 young Auberly rose to leave. 
 
 " Good-night, Barret. I '11 write to you soon as 
 .to my whereabout and whatabout. Perhaps see 
 you ere long." 
 
 " Good-night. God prosper you, Fred. Good- 
 night." 
 
 As he spoke, the grumbler came stumbling along 
 the passage. 
 
 " Good-night again, Fred," said Barret, almost 
 pushing his friend out " I have a particular reason 
 for not wishing you to see the fir , the man who is 
 coming in." 
 
 " All right, old fellow," said Fred, as he passed 
 out, and drew up against the wall to allow a drunken 
 man to stumble heavily into the room. 
 
 Next moment he was in the street hastening he 
 knew not whither ; but following the old and well- 
 known route to Beverly Square.
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 TELLS OP A STRANGE CHARACTER, AND OF WONDERFUL PLANS THAT 
 CANNOT BE BRIEFLY DESCRIBED. 
 
 WHEN Willie Willders knocked at Tom Tippet's 
 door, at the top of the house, a rich jovial bass voice 
 cried, " Come in." So Willie went in, and stood 
 before a stout old gentleman, whose voluminous 
 whiskers, meeting below his chin, made ample 
 amends for the total absence of hair from the top of 
 his head. 
 
 Mr. Tippet stood, without coat or vest, and with 
 his braces tied round his waist, at a carpenter's 
 bench, holding a saw in his right hand, and a piece 
 of wood in his left. 
 
 "Well, my lad, what's your business?" he in- 
 quired, in the voice of a stentor, and with the beam- 
 ing smile of an elderly cherub. 
 
 " Please, sir, a note from a lady." 
 
 " I wish your message had been verbal, boy. It 's 
 so difficult to read ladies' hands ; they 're so 
 abominably angular, and where are, my specs ?
 
 THE FLAMES. 127 
 
 I 've a, mind to have 'em screw-nailed to my nose. 
 Ah ! here they are." 
 
 He found them under a jack-plane and a mass 
 of shavings ; put them on and read the note, while 
 Willie took the opportunity of observing that Mr. 
 Tippet's room was a drawing-room, parlour, dining- 
 room, workshop, and old curiosity-shop all in one. 
 A half- open door revealed the fact that an inner 
 chajtrber contained Mr. Tippet's bed, and an inde- 
 scribable mass of machinery and models in every 
 stage of progression, and covered with dust, more or 
 less thick in exact proportion to their respective 
 ages. A dog and cat lay side by side on the hearth 
 asleep, and a small fire burned in a grate, on the 
 sides of which stood a variety of crucibles and such- 
 like articles, and a glue-pot; also a teapot and 
 kettle. 
 
 " You want a situation in my office as a clerk ? " 
 inquired Mr. Tippet, tearing up his sister's letter, 
 and throwing it into the fire. 
 
 " If you please, sir," said Willie. 
 
 " Ha ! are you good at writing and ciphering ?" 
 
 " Middlin', sir." 
 
 " Hum ! D' you know where my office is, and 
 what it is ?" . 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "What would you say now," asked Mr. Tippetj 
 seating himself on his bench, or rather on the top
 
 128 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 of a number of giniblets and chisels and files and 
 pincers that lay on it, " what would you say now 
 to sitting from morning till night in a dusty ware- 
 room, where the light is so feeble that it can scarcely 
 penetrate the dirt that incrusts the windows, writing 
 in books that are so greasy that the ink can hardly 
 be got to mark the paper? How would you like 
 that, William Willders eh ? " 
 
 " I don't know, sir," replied Willie, with a some- 
 what depressed look. 
 
 " Of course you don't, yet that is the sort of place 
 you 'd have to work in, boy, if I engaged you, for 
 that is a correct description of my warehouse. I 'm 
 a sleeping partner in the firm. D'ye know what 
 that is, boy ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Well, it 's a partner that does no work ; but I'm 
 wide-awake for all that, and have a pretty good 
 notion of what is going on there. Now, lad, if I 
 were to take you in, what would you say to 5 a 
 year?" 
 
 " It don't sound much, sir," said Willie bluntly ; 
 " but if you take me in with the understandin' that 
 I 'm to work my way up'ards, I don't mind about 
 the pay at first." 
 
 " Good," said Mr. Tippet, with a nod of approval 
 "What d'ye think of my workshop?" he added, 
 looking round with a cherubic smile.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 129 
 
 " It 's a funny place," responded Willie with a 
 grin. 
 
 " A funny place eh ? Well, I daresay it is, lad, 
 in your eyes ; but let me tell you, it is a place of 
 deep interest, and, I may add without vanity, im- 
 portance. There are inventions here, all in a state 
 bordering more or less upon completion, which will, 
 when brought into operation, modify the state of 
 society very materially in many of its most pro- 
 minent phases. Here, for instance, is a self-acting 
 galvano-hydraulic engine, which will entirely super- 
 sede the use of steam, and, by preventing the ruinous 
 consumption of coal now going on, will avert, or at 
 least postpone, the decline of the British Empire. 
 Able men have calculated that in the course of a 
 couple of hundred years or so our coal-beds will be 
 exhausted. I have gone over their calculations and 
 detected several flaws in them, which, when cor- 
 rected, show a very different result, namely, that in 
 seventeen or eighteen years from this time pro- 
 bably about the year 1868 there will not be an 
 ounce of coal in the kingdom ! " 
 
 Mr. Tippet paused to observe the effect of this 
 statement. Willie having never heard of such things 
 before, and having a thoughtful and speculative as 
 well as waggish turn of mind, listened with open 
 eyes and mouth and earnest attention, so Mr. Tippet 
 went on 
 
 i
 
 130 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 "The frightful consequences of such a state oi 
 tilings you may conceive, or rather they are utterly 
 inconceivable. Owing to the foundations of the 
 earth having been cut away, it is more than pro- 
 bable that the present coal districts of the United 
 Kingdom will collapse, the ocean will rush in, and 
 several of our largest counties will become salt-water 
 lakes. Besides this, coal being the grand source of 
 our national wealth, its sudden failure will entail 
 national bankruptcy. The barbarians of Europe, 
 taking advantage of our condition, will pour down 
 upon us, and the last spark of true civilisation 
 in our miserable world will be extinguished the 
 last refuge for the hunted foot of persecuted Free- 
 dom will be finally swept from the face of the 
 earth ! " 
 
 Here Mr. Tippet brought the saw down on the 
 bench with such violence, that the dog and cat 
 started incontinently to their legs, and Willie him- 
 self was somewhat shaken. 
 
 " Now," continued Mr. Tippet, utterly regardless 
 of the sensation he had created, and wiping the per- 
 spiration from his shining head with a handful of 
 shavings, " now, William Willders, all this may be, 
 shall be, prevented by the adoption of the galvano- 
 hydraulic engine, and the consequent restriction 
 of the application of coal to the legitimate purposes 
 of warming our dwellings and cooking our victual?
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 131 
 
 1 mean to bring this matter before the Home Secre - 
 tary whenever I have completed my invention 
 which, however, is not quite perfected." 
 
 'Then, again," continued Mr, Tippet, becoming 
 more and more enthusiastic as he observed the deep 
 impression his explanations were making on Willie, 
 who stood glaring at him in speechless amazement, 
 " here you have my improved sausage-machine for 
 converting all animal substances into excellent 
 sausages. I hold that every animal substance is 
 more or less good for food, and that it is a sad 
 waste to throw away bones and hair, etc. etc., merely 
 because these substances are unpalatable or diffi- 
 cult to chew. Now, my machine gets over this 
 difficulty. You cut an animal up just as it is killed, 
 and put it into the machine hair, skin, bones, 
 blood, and all and set it in motion by turning on 
 the galvano-hydraulic fluid. Delicious sausages are 
 the result in about twenty minutes ! 
 
 " You see my dog there Chips I call him, be- 
 cause he dwells in the midst of chips and shavings ; 
 he sleeps upon chips, and if he does not exactly eat 
 chips, he lives upon scraps which have a strong 
 resemblance to them. The cat has no name. I 
 am partial to the time-honoured name of 'Puss.' 
 Besides, a cat is not worthy of a name. Physically 
 speaking, it is only a bundle of living fur a mere 
 mass of soft animated nature, as Goldsmith would
 
 132 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 express it Intellectually it is nothing a sort of 
 existent nonentity, a moral void on which a name 
 would be utterly thrown away. Well, I could take 
 these two animals, Chips and Puss, put them in 
 here (alive too, for there is a killing apparatus in 
 the instrument which will effectually do away with 
 the cruel process of slaughtering and with its accom- 
 panying nuisances of slaughter-houses and butchers) 
 put them in here, I say, and in twenty minutes 
 they would be ground up into sausages ! 
 
 " I know that enemies to progress, ignorant per- 
 sons and the- like, will scoff at this, and say it is 
 similar to the American machine, into one end of 
 which you put a tree, and it comes out at the other 
 end in the shape of ready-made furniture. But 
 such scoffs will cease, while my invention will live. 
 I am not bigoted, William. There may be good 
 objections to my inventions, and great difficulties 
 connected with them, but the objections I will 
 answer, and the difficulties I will overcome. 
 
 " This instrument," continued Mr. Tippet, pointing 
 to a huge beam, which leant against the end of the 
 small apartment, "is only a speculative effort of 
 mine. It is meant to raise enormous weights, such 
 as houses. I have long felt it to be most desirable 
 that people should be able to raise their houses from 
 their foundations by the strength of a few men, and 
 Convey them to other localities either temporarily
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 133 
 
 or permanently. I have not succeeded yet, but 1 
 see my way to success ; and after all, the idea is 
 not new. You can see it partially carried out by 
 an enterprising company in this city, whose enor- 
 mous vans will remove the whole furniture of a 
 drawing-room, almost as it stands, without packing. 
 My chief difficulty is with the fulcrum ; but that is 
 a difficulty that met the philosopher of old. You 
 havfc~fieard of Archimedes, William, the man who 
 said he could make a lever big enough to move the 
 world, if he could only get a fulcrum to rest it on ? 
 But Archimedes was weak on that point. He ought 
 to have known that, even if he did get such a ful- 
 crum, he would still have required another world as 
 long as his lever, to enable him to walk out to the 
 end of it. No, by the way, he might have walked 
 on the lever itself! That did not occur to me 
 before. He might even have ridden along it. Come, 
 that 's a new idea. Let me see." 
 
 In order the better to " see," Mr. Tippet dropt the 
 piece of wood from his left hand, and pressed his 
 fingers into both eyes, so as to shut out all earthly 
 objects, and enable him to take an undistracted 
 survey of the chambers of his mind. Returning 
 suddenly from the investigation, he exclaimed 
 
 " Yes, William, I don't quite see my way to it ; 
 but I can perceive dimly the possibility of Archi- 
 medes having so formed his lever, that a line of rails
 
 134 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 might have been run along the upper side of it, 
 from the fulcrum to the other end." 
 
 " Yes, sir," exclaimed Willie, who, having become 
 excited, was entering eagerly into his patron's 
 speculations, and venting an occasional remark in 
 the height of his enthusiasm. 
 
 "Such a thiDg might be done," continued Mr. 
 Tippet emphatically; " a small carriage on the 
 gal vano -hydraulic principle, of course might run 
 to and fro 1 
 
 " With passengers," suggested Willie. 
 
 "Well, with passengers," assented Mr. Tippet, 
 smiling. "Of course, the lever would be very 
 large extremely large. Yes, there might be pas- 
 sengers." 
 
 " An' stations along the line ?" said Willie. 
 
 Mr. Tippet knitted his brows. 
 
 " Y yes why not ?" he said slowly. " Of course, 
 the lever would be very long, extremely long, and it 
 might be necessary to stop the carriages on the way 
 out. There might be breadth sufficient on the 
 lever to plant small side stations." 
 
 " An' twenty minutes allowed for refreshments," 
 suggested Willie. 
 
 "Why, as to that," said Mr. Tippet, "if we stop 
 at all, there could be no reasonable objection to 
 refreshments, although it is probable we might find 
 it difficult to get any one sufficiently enterprising to
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 135 
 
 undertake the supply of sucli a line ; for, you know, 
 if the lever were to slip at the fulcrum and fall " 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed Willie, " wouldn't there be a 
 smash, neither !" 
 
 " The danger of people falling off, too," continued 
 Mr. Tippet, "might be prevented by railings run 
 along the extreme edges of the lever." 
 
 " Yes," interrupted Willie, whose vivid imagina- 
 tionT-unused to such excitement, had taken the bit 
 in its teeth and run away with him ; " an' spikes 
 put on 'em to keep the little boys from swingin' on 
 'em, an' gettin' into mischief. Oh ! what jolly fun 
 it would be. Only think: we'd advertise cheap 
 excursion trains along the Arkimeedis Line, Mon- 
 days an' Toosdays. Fares, two hundred pounds, 
 fust class. No seconds or parleys allowed for love 
 or money. Starts from the Fuddlecrum Sta " 
 
 " Fulcrum," said Mr. Tippet, correcting. 
 
 " Fulcrum Station," resumed Willie, " at 2.30 A.M. 
 of the mornin' precisely. Stops at the Quarter, 
 Halfway, an' Three- quarter Stations, allowin' twenty 
 minutes, more or less, for grub weather permittin'." 
 
 " Your observations are quaint," said Mr. Tippet, 
 with a smile ; " but there is a great deal of truth in 
 them. No doubt, the connexion of such ideas, 
 especially as put by you, sounds a little ludicrous ; 
 but when we come to analyse them, we see their 
 possibility, for, if a lever of the size indicated by
 
 136 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 the ancient philosopher were erected (and theoreti- 
 cally, the thing is possible), then the subordinate 
 arrangements as to a line of railway and stations, 
 etc., would be mere matters of detail. It might be 
 advertised, too, that the balance of the lever would 
 be so regulated, that, on the arrival of the train at 
 the terminus, the world would rise (a fact which 
 might be seen by the excursionists, by the aid of 
 enormous telescopes, much better than by the 
 people at home), and that, on the return of the train, 
 the world would again sink to its ancient leveL 
 
 "There would be considerable risk, no doubt," 
 continued Mr. Tippet meditatively, " of foolish 
 young men and boys getting over the rails in sport 
 or bravado, and falling off into the depths of illimit- 
 able profundity, but " 
 
 " We could have bobbies stationed along the line," 
 interrupted Willie, " an' tickets put up warnin' the 
 passengers not to give 'em money on no account 
 wotsomedever, on pain o' bein' charged double fare 
 for the first offence, an' pitched over the rails into 
 illimidibble pro-what 's-'is-name for the second." 
 
 "I'll tell you what it is, William," said Mr. 
 Tippet suddenly, getting off the bench and seizing 
 the boy's hand, "your talents would be wasted in 
 my office. You 11 come and assist me here in the 
 workshop. I'm greatly in want of an intelligent 
 lad who can use his hands ; but, by the way, can
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 137 
 
 you use your hands ? Here, cut this piece of wood 
 smooth, with that knife." 
 
 He handed Willie a piece of cross-grained wood 
 and a blunt knife. 
 
 Willie looked at both, smiled, and shook his head. 
 
 " It would take a cleverer feller than me to do it ; 
 but I '11 try." 
 
 Willie did try ; after a quarter of an hour spent 
 in v#m attempts, he threw down the wood and knife, 
 exclaiming, " It 's impossible." 
 
 Mr. Tippet, who had been smiling cherubically, 
 and nodding approval, said 
 
 " I knew it was impossible, my lad, when I gave 
 it to you, and I now know that you are both neat- 
 handed and persevering; so, if you choose, I'll 
 engage you on the spot to come on trial for a week. 
 After that we will settle the remuneration. Mean- 
 while, shake hands again, and allow me to express 
 to you my appreciation of the noble character of 
 your brother, who, I understand from my sister's 
 letter, saved a young relative of mine from the 
 midst of imminent danger. Good-night, William, 
 and come to me on Monday next, at nine o'clock in 
 the morning." 
 
 Willie was somewhat perplexed at this prompt 
 dismissal (for Mr. Tippet had opened the door), 
 especially after such a long and free-and-easy con- 
 versation, and he felt that, however much license
 
 138 FTOHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Mr. Tippet might permit, he was a man of stern 
 will, who could not be resisted with impunity ; so, 
 although he was burning to know the object and 
 nature of innumerable strange pieces of mechanism 
 in the workshop, he felt constrained to make a 
 polite bow and depart. 
 
 On his way down-stairs, he heard the voices of 
 men as if in angry disputation ; and on reaching 
 the next floor, found Mr. Barret standing at the 
 open door of his room, endeavouring to hold Ned 
 Hooper, who was struggling violently. 
 
 " I tell you," said the latter, in a drunken voice, 
 " that I w will go out !" 
 
 " Come, Ned, not to-night ; you can go to- 
 morrow," said Barret soothingly, yet maintaining 
 his hold of his friend. 
 
 " W why not ? ain't night the best time to to- 
 be jolly ? eh ! L' me go, I shay." 
 
 He made a fierce struggle at this point; and 
 Barret, ceasing to expostulate, seized him with a 
 grasp that he could not resist, and dragged him 
 forcibly, yet without unnecessary violence, into the 
 room. 
 
 Next instant, the door was shut with a bang and 
 locked ; so Willie Willders descended to the street, 
 and turned his face homewards, moralizing as he 
 went, on the evils of drink. 
 
 It was a long way to Netting HOI ; but it was
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 139 
 
 not long enough to enable Willie to regain his 
 wonted nonchalance. He had seen and heard too 
 much that night to permit of his equilibrium being 
 restored. He pursed his mouth several times into 
 the form of a round 0, and began " Kule Britannia ;" 
 but the sounds invariably died at the part where 
 the " charter of the land" is brought forward. He 
 tried "The Bay of Biscay, !" with no better suc- 
 cess, never being able to get farther than "light- 
 ning's vivid powers," before his mind was up in the 
 clouds, or in Mr. Tippet's garret, or out on the 
 Archimedes-Lever Eailway. 
 
 Thus wandering in dreams he reached home, 
 balked wildly to his anxious mother, and went to 
 bed in a state of partial insanity.
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 GIVES A LITTLE DOMESTIC CHIT-CHAT, MINOLKD WITH ALARMS. 
 
 ONE night, not long after the events narrated in 
 the last chapter, Frank Willders was standing with 
 the fireman in charge, in the King Street Station. 
 He had just removed his helmet, and the perspira- 
 tion on his brow showed that he had been but 
 recently engaged in some active duty ; as indeed 
 was the case, for he had just returned from a 
 " walk" to a fire in WhitechapeL 
 
 " It was only a small affair," said Frank, hanging 
 up his helmet and axe, and sitting down to fill his 
 pipe ; " a low beer-shop in Brook Street ; the tap- 
 room burnt out, and the rest of the house damaged 
 by smoke. It was pretty well over before I got 
 there, and I left half-an-hour after. Where are the 
 rest o' the lads?" 
 
 " They 're out wi' both engines," said Baxmore, 
 who was busy making a memorandum on a slate. 
 
 " With both engines !" said Frank 
 
 " Ay, both," replied Baxmore, with a laugh, as he
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 141 
 
 sat down in front of the fire. " Let me see : it 's now 
 nine o'clock, so they've bin ofl an hour; one to 
 Walton Street, Brompton ; the other to Porchester 
 Terrace, Bayswater. The call was the queerest I Ve 
 seen for many a day. We was all sittin' here 
 smokin' our pipes, as usual, when two fellers came 
 to the door, full split, from opposite pints o' the 
 compass, an* run slap into each other. They looked 
 lik/e^'gentlemen ; but they was in such a state it 
 wasn't easy to make out what sort o' fish they was. 
 One had his coat torn and his hat gone ; the other 
 had his tile pretty well knocked down on his eyes 
 I s'pose by the people he run into on the way 
 an' both were half- mad with excitement. They 
 both stuttered too, that was the fun o' the thing, 
 and they seemed to think each was takin' off the 
 other, and got into a most awful rage. My own 
 opinion is, that one stuttered by nature, an' the other 
 stuttered from fright. Anyhow, they both stuttered 
 together, and a precious mess they made of it 
 
 < F F F Fire ! ' roared one. 
 
 F F F Fire ! ' yelled the other. 
 
 "'Where away?' asked Mr. Dale, looking quietly 
 at the two men, who were gasping for breath. 
 
 " ' BBB Brompton ! ' ' BBB Bays- 
 water ! ' they shouted together ; and then, turnin' 
 fiercely on each other, the one said 'N N N 
 No !' and the other said N N N No ! '
 
 142 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " ' Now, which is it ?' said Dale, ' an' le quick do.' 
 
 " ' B B B Brompton ! ' 
 
 " ' B B B Bayswater !' in a breath ; then says 
 one, ' I I s s say Brompton ! ' an' the other, he 
 says, ' I I s s say Bayswater ! ' 
 
 " At this they grew furious, and Dale tried to 
 calm them and settle the question by asking the 
 name of the street. 
 
 "'WW Walton S Street !' cried one. 
 
 " 'P P P Porchester TT Terrace !' shouted 
 the other. 
 
 ' N N No ! ' ' Y Y Yes ! ' ' N No ! ' an' 
 with that, one up fist an' hit the other a crack be- 
 tween the eyes. T* other returned on the nob, and 
 then they closed. 
 
 ." Before this Mr. Dale had ordered out one o' the 
 engines, an' when he heard the two streets named it 
 occurred to him that there might be two fires, so he 
 ordered out the other engine ; and before we got the 
 stutterers separated both engines were off full swing, 
 one to Brompton, the other to Bayswater; but 
 whether there are two fires or no is yet to be 
 seen." 
 
 Just as Baxmore concluded, the rattle of a return- 
 ing engine was heard. Next moment it dashed up 
 to the door, and the firemen, leaping off, streamed 
 into the station, where, amid much comment and 
 some laughter at the scene they had so recently
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 143 
 
 witnessed, they luing up their helmets and crowded 
 round the fire. 
 
 " So it was in Brompton after all," said Jack 
 Williams, stirring the coals ; " but it was a small 
 affair in a baker's shop, and we soon got it out." 
 
 " Is the other engine back ? ' inquired Moxey. 
 
 " Here she comes to answer for herself," said 
 Mason, as the second engine dashed up to the station, 
 anoVEhe men were joined by their comrades. 
 
 " We 've got it out," said Dale, sitting down before 
 the desk to enter the particulars in his diary ; " it 
 was a private house, and well alight when we got 
 there, but the Paddington engine was playing on it, 
 and we soon got it under." 
 
 "Faix, it's well them stutterers didn't kape us 
 longer, else the whole house would have bin burnt 
 out intirely," observed Joe Corney, binding up a 
 slight wound in his thumb which he had received 
 from a splinter. 
 
 Most of the men were more or less begrimed 
 with charcoal and smoke, and otherwise bore marks 
 of their recent sharp though short skirmish, but 
 none of them deemed it necessary to remove these 
 evidences of devotion to duty until they had re- 
 freshed themselves with a pipe. 
 
 "Were there people in the house?" inquired 
 Frank. 
 
 " Ay, but Pickford was there with the escape, an'
 
 U4 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 got 'em all out before we came up," said one. 
 " Pickford said he couldn't help laughing after he 
 got 'em out, at the remembrance o' their faces. 
 When he first went in they was all sound asleep in 
 the top floor, for the smoke was only beginnin' to 
 show there, an' the surprise they got when he jump 
 in among 'em an' shouted was wonderful to behold." 
 
 " Not so wonderful," observed Bill Moxey, " as 
 the surprise I seed a whole man-o'-war's crew get 
 by consequence o' the shout o' one of her own 
 men." 
 
 " When was that ? let 's here about it, Bill," said 
 Corney, stuffing down the tobacco in his pipe, and 
 firing a battery of cloudlets into the air. 
 
 "We was in the Red Sea at the time," said 
 Moxey, clearing his throat, " layin' at anchor, and a 
 precious hot time we had of it. There was never 
 a cloud a'most in the sky, and the sun was nigh hot 
 enough to fry the decks off the ship. Cook said 
 he 'd half a mind to try to roast a junk o' beef at it, 
 but I never heard that he managed that. We slep' 
 on deck o' nights, 'cause you might as well have 
 tried to sleep in a baker's oven as sleep below. The 
 thing that troubled us most at that time was a tiger 
 we had on board. It did kick up such a shindy 
 sometimes ! We thought it would break its cage 
 an' make a quid o' some of us. I forget who sent 
 it to us p'raps it was the Pasha of Egypt ; anyhow
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 145 
 
 we weren't sorry when the order was given to put 
 the tiger ashore. 
 
 " Well, the same day that we got rid o' the tiger 
 we was sent aboard a Malay ship to flog one o' the 
 men. He 'd bin up to some mischief, an' his com- 
 rades were afraid, I s'pose, to flog him ; and as the 
 offence he had committed was against us somehow 
 (I never rightly understood it myself), some of us 
 wenjraboard the Malay ship, tied him up, an' gave 
 him two dozen. 
 
 "That night the whole ship's company slep' on 
 deck as usual officers as well all but the cap'n, 
 who had gone ashore. It was a treemendow hot 
 night, an' a good deal darker than usual There 
 was one man in the ship named Wilson; but we 
 called him Bob Eoarer, because of a habit he had 
 of speakin' an' sometimes roarin' in his sleep. Bob 
 lay between me an' the purser that night, an' we 
 slep' on all right till it was getting pretty late, 
 though there was two or three snorers that got their 
 noses close to the deck an' kep' up a pretty fair 
 imitation of a brass band. Suddenly Bob began to 
 dream, or took a nightmare or somethin', for he hit 
 straight out with both fists, givin' the purser a tap 
 on the nob with his left, an' diggin' his right into 
 my bread-basket with such good will, that he nearly 
 knocked all the wind out o' me, at the same time he 
 uttered a most appallin' yelL 
 K
 
 146 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " The confusion that followed is past description. 
 Some of us thought it was the tiger had broke loose, 
 forgettin' that it had been sent ashore. Bob sneaked 
 aff the moment he found what he 'd done, and the 
 purser, thinkin' it was pirates, grabbed the first he 
 could lay hold of by the throat, and that was me, so 
 to it we went tooth an' nail, for I had no notion 
 who was pitchin' into me, it was so dark. Two of 
 the men in their fright sprang up the main shrouds. 
 Two others, who were asleep in the main-top, were 
 awoke by the row, looked down on the starboard 
 side, an' saw the two comin' up. Thinking it was 
 the friends of the Malay who had bin flogged coming 
 to be revenged, they ran down the port-shrouds like 
 mad, and one o' them rushed along the port- deck, 
 stickin' his feet into the bread-baskets of all the 
 sleepers that hadn't bin woke by the yell, rousin' 
 them up an' causin' them to roar like bo's'ns. The 
 row woke the cook, who was a nigger ; he, thinkin' 
 it was a sudden jollification, seized one o' the coppers 
 an' began to beat it with an iron spoon. This set 
 up the quartermaster, who rushed along the star- 
 board deck, trampin' upon the breasts and faces of 
 all and sundry. The gunner thought it was the 
 tiger, and took to the top of the awning; while 
 the doctor and bo's'n's-mate they jumped over the 
 side, and hung on by ropes up to their waists in 
 water*
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 147 
 
 " At the worst o' the confusion the cap'n came 
 aboard. We didn't see him, but he ordered silence, 
 an' after a while we discovered that there was no 
 reason whatever for the shindy. It wasn't till a 
 long time afterwards that we found out the real 
 cause of the false alarm ; but the only man that got 
 no fright that night, and kep' quite cool, was the 
 man who set it all agoin' Bob Koarer." 
 
 "Jtfhat a feller you are, Bill, to talk blarney," 
 said Corney, rising and knocking the ashes out of 
 his pipe ; " sure, aither yer father or yer mother 
 must have bin an Irishman." 
 
 "Blarney or no blarney, them's the facts," said 
 Moxey, yawning, " an' I 'm off to bed." 
 
 " Ditto," said Frank, stretching himself. 
 
 The two tressels, which were always removed 
 from the room during the day, had been brought 
 in, and were by this time occupied by Mason and 
 Williams, whose duty it was to keep watch that 
 night. Baxmore, the sub-engineer of the station, 
 sat down at the desk to read over the events of the 
 day, and the others rose to leave. 
 
 " By the way, Baxmore," said Dale, " what was 
 that false alarm at 2 P.M., when I was down at 
 Watling Street?" 
 
 " Only a chemist in Kensington, who, it seems, is 
 mad after makin' experiments, and all but blew the 
 roof off his house with one of 'em."
 
 148 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " All ! only smoke, I suppose ?" said Dale. 
 
 "That was all," said Baxmore, "but there was 
 eitch a lot of it that some fellows thought it was a 
 fire, an' came tearin' down here wi' the news, so we 
 had a ride for nothing." 
 
 " If I 'm not mistaken you '11 have a ride for some- 
 thing ere long," observed Dale, turning his head 
 aside, while he listened attentively. "Hold on, 
 lads, a minute ! " 
 
 There was a sound of wheels in the distance, as if 
 some vehicle were approaching at a furious pace. 
 On it came, louder and louder, until it turned the 
 corner of the street, and the horses' feet rattled on 
 the stones as they were pulled up sharp at the 
 station. Instantly the bell was rung violently, and 
 a severe kicking was bestowed on the door. 
 
 It is needless to say that the summons was 
 answered promptly. Some of the men quietly re- 
 sumed the helmets they had just hung up, well 
 knowing that work lay before them. 
 
 A cabman darted through the door the instant it 
 was opened, shouting 
 
 "FlKE!" 
 
 "Where?" asked Dale. 
 
 " Forth Street, Holborn, sir ! " cried the cabman. 
 
 Again, for the third time that night, the order 
 was given to " get her out." While this was being 
 done, Baxmore took a leathern purse from the cup-
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 149 
 
 board, and gave the cabman a shilling for being first 
 to " give the call" 
 
 As the men were already accoutred, the engine 
 left the station on this occasion in less than five 
 minutes. The distance was short, so the pace was 
 full speed, and in an incredibly short space of time 
 they drew up in front of a large, handsome shop, 
 from the first-floor windows of which thick smoke 
 and 5, few forked flam RS were issuing.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 tS WHICH SOME BATHER WILD DOINGS AND DARING DEEDS WILL BE 
 FOUND ; ALSO SOME CURIOUS ECCENTRICITIES. 
 
 QUICK though they were, however, in reaching the 
 scene of the fire, the escape was there before them. 
 It had a shorter way to travel, and was already 
 pitched, with its head resting against a window of 
 the second floor, and the fly-ladder raised to the 
 third. 
 
 The people who had crowded round the building 
 at the first alarm of fire, were looking on as if in 
 suspense, and the firemen knew that conductor 
 Forest, or one of his lion-hearted comrades, was 
 inside doing his noble and dangerous work. But 
 they had no tune to pay attention to what was 
 going on. 
 
 While some of the firemen got the engine into 
 play, the others ran in a body to the front-door of 
 the burning house, the lower part of which was a 
 coach-builder's warehouse. Tt was a heavy doublo 
 
 160
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 151 
 
 door, locked and barred, and the owner had not yet 
 arrived with the key. It was evident that the fire 
 had originated in one of the upper floors, for there 
 was no light in the wareroom. 
 
 "Get the pole-axe," said Dale, as soon as he 
 found the door was fast. 
 
 Frank Willders sprang off at the word, and re- 
 turned with an axe of the largest size attached to a 
 hanctlfe nearly four feet long. 
 
 " Drive it in, Willders," said Dale. 
 
 Frank's powerful blows at once thundered on the 
 massive door ; but they fell on it in vain, for it was 
 unusually strong. Seeing this, Dale ran back to the 
 engine and got out the pole. 
 
 " Come, lay hold some of you ! " said he. Imme- 
 diately eight firemen, Frank and Dale being at the 
 front, charged the door like a thunderbolt with this 
 extemporized battering-ram. It gave way with a 
 prodigious crash, and the whole party fell over each 
 other into the warehouse. 
 
 There was a burst of laughter from themselves, a*, 
 well as from the crowd; but in another moment 
 they were up and swarming through the premises 
 among the smoke, searching for a point of attack 
 
 " Send the branch up here," cried Mason, cough- 
 ing violently. 
 
 " Sure, my peepers is out entirely 1" gasped Corney, 
 rushing to the window for air ; while showers of
 
 152 FIGHTING THE FLAMEb : A TALE OF 
 
 water fell on his head, for the engine was already 
 in full play. 
 
 Just then there was a noise outside, as if men 
 were disputing violently. Dale guessed at once 
 what it was, and ran down the staircase, calling 
 out as he passed : " Here, Willders, Corney, Bax- 
 more, lend a hand, will you?" 
 
 On reaching the engine, they found about a do/en 
 roughs of the lowest character, disputing fiercely as 
 to which of them was to pump the engine ! As 
 each man received one shilling an hour for this 
 work, it became a desirable means of earning a good 
 night's wages to these broad-shouldered rascals; 
 who, in their anger, and in spite of the police, and 
 the solitary fireman who superintended the engine, 
 had actually caused the men already at work to 
 cease pumping. 
 
 We may remark in passing, that this would not 
 have been the case, but for the police force, from 
 some unknown cause, being not very strong at that 
 fire, and having an excited and somewhat turbulent 
 crowd to keep in order. As a general rule, the 
 police of London are of the most essential service at 
 fires : and not a few of them have obtained the 
 medals of the Society for the protection of life from 
 fire, and other rewards for gallantry displayed in 
 saving life at the risk of their own lives. 
 
 On the present opcasion, however, the few police-
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BKIGADE. 153 
 
 men present could barely hold their ground against 
 such a band of stalwart desperadoes, so the firemen 
 came to the rescue. In the front of the roughs stood 
 a man who was stronger made and better dressed 
 than the others. He had not been pugnacious at first; 
 but having got involved in the riot, he struck out 
 with the rest. Dale sprang at this man, who was 
 none other than the half-nautical individual already 
 introduced to the reader by the name of Gorman, 
 and launched a left-hander at his head ; but Gor- 
 man stepped aside, and one of his comrades was 
 felled instead. At this, the others made a rush in 
 a body at Dale ; but Frank, Corney, and Baxmore 
 came up at the moment, and each knocked down 
 a man. Instantly Dale seized an instrument from 
 the engine, named a " preventer," like a large boat- 
 hook, and, raising it at the full stretch of his power- 
 ful arms, he brought it swoop down on the heads 
 of the roughs, six of whom, including Gorman, 
 measured their length on the ground. 
 
 Meanwhile, Bill Moxey and Jack Williams, who 
 had charge of the branch which is considered the 
 post of honour at a fire had paid no attention 
 whatever to this little episode ; but, the instant the 
 order was given, had conveyed their branch into the 
 building, and up to the first floor, where they 
 thought they could reach the fire more directly; 
 for it is an axiom in fire brigades to get into a burn-
 
 154 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 ing building without delay, and attack the fire at 
 its heart. 
 
 They got the hose up a staircase, and began to 
 play through a doorway at the head of it ; but, to 
 their surprise, did not make any impression what- 
 ever. Two other engine?, however, were at work by 
 this time, so the fire was kept in check. 
 
 " Something wrong here," said Moxey, speaking 
 with difficulty, owing to the dense smoke. 
 
 Owing to the same cause, it was impossible to see 
 wha( <vas wrong. 
 
 " I '11 go in an' see," said Mason, dropping on his 
 hands and knees, and creeping into the room with 
 his mouth as close to the ground as possible. This 
 he did, because in a room on fire, there is always a 
 current of comparatively fresh air at the floor. 
 
 Presently the sound of Mason's small hatchet 
 was heard cutting up woodwork, and in a few 
 seconds he rushed out almost choking. 
 
 " There," said he, " stick the branch through that 
 hole. You've bin playin' all this time up agin a 
 board partition ! " 
 
 Moxey and Williams advanced, put the branch 
 through the partition, and the result was at once 
 obvious in the diminution of smoke and increase of 
 
 While these incidents were occurring outside and 
 inside the building, the crowd was still waiting in
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BKIGADE. IBfl 
 
 breathless expectation for the re-appearance of con- 
 ductor Forest of the fire-escape ; for the events just 
 narrated, although taking a long time to tell, were 
 enacted in a few minutes. 
 
 Presently Forest appeared at the window of the 
 second floor with two infants in his arms. Instead 
 of sending these down the canvas trough of the 
 escape in the usual way at the risk of their necks, 
 foi~hey were very young, he clasped them to his 
 breast, and plunging into it himself, head-foremost, 
 descended in that position, checking his speed by- 
 spreading out his knees against the sides of the 
 canvas. Once again he sprang up the escape amid 
 the cheers of the people, and re-entered the window. 
 
 At that moment the attention of the crowd was 
 diverted by the sudden appearance of a man at one 
 of the windows of the first floor. 
 
 He was all on fire, and had evidently been aroused 
 to his awful position unexpectedly, for he was in 
 such confusion that he did not observe the fire- 
 escape at the other window. After shouting wildly 
 for a few seconds, and tossing his arms in the air, 
 he leaped out and came to the ground with stunning 
 violence. Two policemen extinguished the fire that 
 was about him, and then, procuring a horse-cloth, 
 lifted him up tenderly and carried him away. 
 
 It may perhaps surprise the reader that this man 
 was not roused sooner by the turmoil and noise that
 
 156 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OB 
 
 was going on around him, but it is a fact that heavy 
 sleepers are sometimes found by the firemen sound 
 asleep, and in utter ignorance of what has been 
 going on, long after a large portion of the houses in 
 which they dwell have been in flames. 
 
 When Forest entered the window the second time 
 he found the smoke thicker than before, and had 
 some difficulty in groping his way for smoke that 
 may be breathed with comparative ease is found to 
 be very severe on the eyes. He succeeded, however, 
 in rinding a woman lying insensible on the floor of 
 the room above. In carrying her to the window 
 he fell over a small child, which was lying on the 
 floor in a state of insensibility. Grasping the latter 
 with his left hand, he seized its night-dress with his 
 teeth, and, with the woman on his shoulder, appeared 
 on the top of the fly-ladder which he descended in 
 safety. 
 
 The cheers and shouts of the crowd were deafening 
 as Forest came down; but the woman, who had 
 begun to recover, said that her brother was in a loft 
 above the room in which she had been found. 
 
 The conductor, therefore, went up again, got on 
 the roof of the house, broke through the tiles, and 
 with much difficulty pulled the man through the 
 aperture and conveyed him safely to the ground.* 
 
 * It is perhaps right to state here, that a deed similar to this in 
 nearly every point was performed by conductor Samuel Wood, at
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGAI/E. 157 
 
 The firemen were already at Forest's heels, and 
 as soon as he dragged the man through the hole in 
 the roof, Frank and Baxmore jumped into it with 
 the branch, and immediately attacked the fire. 
 
 By this time all the engines of the district in 
 which the fire had occurred, and one from each of 
 the two adjoining districts, had arrived, and were in 
 full play, and one by one the individual men from 
 the distant stations came dropping in and reported 
 themselves to Dale, Mr. Braidwood not being pre- 
 sent on that occasion. There was thus a strong 
 force of fresh firemen on the ground, and these, as 
 they came up, were sent in military parlance to 
 relieve skirmishers. The others were congregated 
 in front of the door, moving quietly about, looking 
 on and chatting in undertones. 
 
 Such of the public as arrived late at the fire no 
 doubt formed a very erroneous impression in regard 
 to these men, for not only did they appear to be 
 lounging about doing nothing, but they were helped 
 by one of their number to a glass of brandy such 
 of them at least as chose to take it. But those who 
 had witnessed the fire from the beginning knew that 
 
 present a member of the London Fire-Escape Brigade, for which he 
 received a testimonial signed by the then Lord Mayor, and a silver 
 watch with 20 from the inhabitants of Whitechapel, to whom he is 
 well known. Wood has, up to the present time, saved no fewer than 
 168 lives by his own personal exertions. Many of his brave com- 
 rades have also done deeds that are well worthy of record, but va 
 have not space to do more than allude to them here.
 
 158 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 these men had toiled, with every nerve and muscle 
 strained, for upwards of an hour in the face of almost 
 unbearable heat, half-suffocated by smoke, and 
 drenched by hot water. They were resting now, 
 and they had much need of rest, for some of them 
 had come out of the burning house almost fainting 
 from exposure to heat and smoke. Indeed, Mason 
 had fainted ; but the fresh air soon revived him, and 
 after a glass of brandy he recovered sufficiently to 
 be fit for duty again in half-an-hour. 
 
 Frank and Baxmore were the last to be relieved. 
 When two fresh men came up and took the branch 
 they descended the stairs, and a strange descent it 
 was. The wooden stair, or flight of open steps, 
 which they had to descend first, was burnt to char- 
 coal, and looked as if it would fall to pieces with a 
 touch. 
 
 " I hope it'll bear," said Frank to Baxmore, who 
 went first. 
 
 " Bear or not bear, we must go down," said Bax- 
 more. 
 
 He went unhesitatingly upon it, and although the 
 steps bent ominously, there was enough of sound 
 wood to sustain him. 
 
 The second stair, also of wood, had not been quite 
 so much charred ; but so great was the quantity of 
 water poured continuously into the house, that it 
 formed a regular water- course of the staircase, dowp
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 159 
 
 which heaps of plaster and bricks and burnt rubbish 
 had been washed, and had stuck here and there, 
 forming obstructions on which the water broke, and 
 round which it roared in the form of what might 
 have been a very respectable mountain-torrent, with 
 this striking difference, that the water which rushed 
 down it was hot, in consequence of its having passed 
 through such glowing materials. 
 ^The lower staircase was a stone one, the worst 
 of all stairs in a fire, owing to its liability to crack 
 at its connexion with the wall, from the combined 
 influence of heat and cold water. Just as the two 
 men reached the head of it, it fell, without warning, 
 in a mass of ruins. 
 
 " Never mind," said Baxmore, " the fire-escape is 
 still at the window. 
 
 So saying, he ran through the smoke and reached 
 it Frank was about to follow, when he observed a 
 shut door. Without having any definite intention, 
 he laid hold of the handle, and found that it was 
 locked on the inside he knew that, for he saw the 
 end of the key sticking through the key-hole. At 
 once he threw his weight on it and burst it open. 
 To his amazement, he found a little old lady sitting 
 quietly, but in great trepidation, in an easy-chair, 
 partially clothed in very scanty garments, which 
 she had evidently thrown on in great hasta 
 
 " Go away, young man I" she screamed, drawing a
 
 160 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 shawl tightly round her. " Go away, I say ! how 
 dare you, sir ?" 
 
 "Why, ma'am," cried Frank, striding up to 
 her ; " the house is on fire ! Come, I '11 carry you 
 out." 
 
 "No NO!" she cried, pushing him resolutely 
 away. " What ! carry me me out thus ! I know 
 it's on fire. Leave me sir, I command you I 
 entreat you ; I will die rather than appear as I am 
 in public !" 
 
 The poor lady finished off with a loud shriek ; 
 for Frank, seeing how matters stood, and knowing 
 there was not a moment to lose, plucked a blanket 
 from the bed, overwhelmed her in it, and exclaim- 
 ing "Forgive me, ma'am," lifted her gently in his 
 arms, bore her through the smoke, down the escape 
 to the street ; carried her into a neighbouring house 
 (the door of which was opportunely open), and 
 laid her like a bundle on one of the beds, where 
 he left her, with strict injunctions to the people 
 of the house to take care of her! Frank then 
 went out to rejoin his comrades, and refreshed 
 himself with a glass of beer ; while Baxmore, being 
 a teetotaller, recruited his energies with a glass 
 of water. 
 
 By this time the fire had been pretty well sub 
 dued ; but there were some parts smouldering 
 about the roof and upper floor, that rendered it
 
 THE LONDON. PIKE BBIGADE. 1 6 1 
 
 necessary to keep the engines going, while the fire- 
 men hunted their foe from room to room, and 
 corner to corner, extinguishing him everywhere ; 
 not, however, before he had completely gutted the 
 whole house, with the exception of part of the 
 ground floor. 
 
 "Keep away from the walls, men," said Dale, 
 coming up to the group, who were resting. 
 
 ^At that moment there was a cry raised that some 
 one was in the cellars. 
 
 At the word, Baxmore ran into the house, and 
 descended to the basement. There was little smoke 
 here ; but from the roof, water was running down 
 in a thick warm shower, which drenched him in 
 a few minutes. He ran through the whole place, 
 but found no one, until he opened the door of 
 a closet, when he discovered two old women who 
 had taken refuge there; one being deaf and the 
 other lame, as her crutches testified. They were 
 up to the knees in water, and the same element 
 was pouring in continuous streams on their heads, 
 yet, like the old lady up- stairs, they refused to move 
 or be moved. 
 
 Finding that persuasion was useless, Baxmore 
 ran up for a horse-cloth, and, returning, threw 
 it over the head of the deaf old woman, whom 
 he bore, kicking violently, into the street. The 
 other was carried out in the same fashion, 
 L
 
 162 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 only that she screamed violently, being unable t 
 kick. 
 
 Soon after that, the fire was completely extin- 
 guished, and the engines and men returned to theii 
 several stations, leaving London once again in coi 
 parative repose.
 
 CHAPTEK XIV. 
 
 *" WHICH TELLS OP JOE CORNET'S ADVENTURE WITH GHOSTs. 
 
 WHEN we said that the firemen returned to their 
 respective stations, it must not be supposed that 
 the house which had been burnt was left in forlorn 
 wretchedness. No; one of the firemen remained 
 to watch over it, and guard against the upstarting of 
 any sneaking spark that might have managed to 
 conceal itself 
 
 The man selected for this duty was Joe Corney. 
 Unfortunately for Joe, this was the only part of a 
 fireman's duty that he did not relish. 
 
 Joe Corney was, both by nature and education, 
 very superstitious. He believed implicitly in ghosts, 
 and knew an innumerable host of persons, male and 
 female, who had seen people who said they had seen 
 ghosts. He was too honest to say he had ever seen 
 a ghost himself ; but he had been " very near seein' 
 wan two or three times," and he lived in perpetual 
 expectation and dread of meeting one face to face
 
 164 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 before he died Joe was as brave as a lion, and 
 faced danger, and sometimes even what appeared to 
 be certain death, with as much unflinching courage 
 as the bravest of his comrades. Once, in particular, 
 he had walked with the branch in his hands, along 
 the burning roof of a tottering warehouse, near the 
 docks, in order to gain a point from which he could 
 play on the flames so as to prevent them spreading 
 to the next warehouse, and so check a fire which 
 might have easily become one of the " great fires 
 of London." 
 
 Joe was therefore a man who could not be easily 
 frightened ; yet Joe trembled in his shoes when he 
 had the most distant prospect of meeting with a 
 ghost ! 
 
 There was no help for it, however. He had been 
 appointed to watch the ruin ; and, being a man who 
 cherished a strong sense of duty, he set himself 
 doggedly to make the most of his circumstances. 
 
 "it was past one o'clock when the fire was finally 
 extinguished. A few night-birds and late revellers 
 still hung about it, as if in the hope that it would 
 burst forth again, and afford them fresh excitement ; 
 but before two o'clock, every one had gone away, 
 and Joe was left alone with his " preventer " and 
 lantern. Even the policeman on the beat appeared 
 to avoid him; for, although he passed the ruin at 
 regular intervals in his rounds, lie did not stop at it
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BKIGADE. 165 
 
 beyond a few moments, to see that the fireman's 
 lantern was burning and all right. 
 
 " Corney, me lad," said Joe to himself, " it 's bad 
 luck has befallen ye this night ; but face yer luck 
 like a man now, and shame it." 
 
 Encouraging himself thus, he grasped his pre- 
 venter, and pulled about the debris in various places 
 of which he had some suspicion ; but the engines 
 hajj done their work so effectually that not a spark 
 remained. Then Joe walked up and down, and in 
 and out for an hour ; studied the half-consumed pic- 
 tures that still hung on the walls of one of the lower 
 rooms, which had not been completely destroyed ; 
 moralized on the dire confusion and ruin that could 
 be accomplished in so short a space of time ; re- 
 flected on the probable condition of the unfortunates 
 who had been burnt out ; on the mutability of 
 human affairs in general, and wondered what his 
 " owld mother" would think of him, if she saw him 
 in his forlorn situation. 
 
 This latter thought caused his mind to revert to 
 ghosts ; but he was comforted by hearing the slow, 
 distant foot- fall of the policeman. On it came, not 
 unlike the supposed step of an unearthly visitant, 
 until the guardian of the night stood revealed before 
 him on the other side of the road. 
 
 " It 's a cowld night intirely," cried Corney. 
 
 '* It is," responded the policeman.
 
 166 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALK OF 
 
 " How goes the inimy ? " inquired the fireman. 
 
 " Just gone three," replied the other. 
 
 The policeman's voice, although gruff, was good- 
 humoured and hearty ; but he was evidently a strict 
 disciplinarian, for he uttered no other word, and 
 passed on. 
 
 " Faix, I 'm gettin' slaipy," remarked Joe to him- 
 self, with a loud yawn. " I '11 go and rest a bit." 
 
 So saying, he re-entered the ruin, and with the 
 aid of his lantern sought about for the least uncom- 
 fortable apartment on the ground floor. He selected 
 one which was comparatively weather-tight. That 
 is to say, only one of the windows had been dashed 
 out, and the ceiling was entire, with the exception 
 of a hole about four feet wide, through which the 
 charred beams above could be seen depicted against 
 the black sky. There was about an inch of water 
 on the floor ; but this was a small matter, for Joe's 
 boots were thick and strong. The door too, had 
 been burst off its hinges, and lay on the floor ; but 
 Joe could raise this, and place it in its original 
 position. 
 
 The room had been a parlour and there were 
 several damaged prints hanging on the walls, besides 
 a quantity of detached paper hanging from them. 
 Most of the furniture had been removed at the com- 
 mencement of the fire ; but a few broken articles 
 remained, and one big old easy-chair, which had
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 167 
 
 either been forgotten, or deemed unworthy of re- 
 moval, by the men of the Salvage Corps.* 
 
 Joe wheeled the chair to the fireplace, uot 
 that there was any fire in it ; on the contrary, it 
 was choked up witli fallen bricks and mortar, and 
 the hearth was flooded with water ; but, as Joe 
 remarked to himself, "it felt more homelike an' 
 sociable to sit wid wan's feet on the finder ! " 
 paving erected the door in front of its own 
 doorway, Joe leaned his preventer against the wall, 
 placed his lantern on the chimney-piece, and sat 
 iown to meditate. He had not meditated long, 
 when the steady draught ol air from the window at 
 his back began to tell upon him. 
 
 " Och ! but it 's a cowld wind," said he. " I '11 
 try the other side. There's nothin' like facin' 
 wan's inimies." 
 
 Acting on this idea, he changed his position, turn- 
 ing his face to the window and his back to the door. 
 
 " Well," he remarked on sitting down again, 
 " there 's about as much draught from the door ; 
 but, sure, ye Ve improved yer sitivation, Corney, 
 for haven't ye the illigant prospect of over the way 
 through the windy ? " 
 
 * The Salvage Corps is a body of men appoiuted by the insurance 
 offices to save and protect goods at fires, and otherwise to watch over 
 their interests. They wear a uniform and helmets, something like 
 those of the firemen, and generally follow close in their wake in 
 their own vans when fires break out.
 
 168 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Not long after this, Joe's mind became much 
 affected with ghostly memories. This condition 
 was aggravated by an intense desire to sleep, for 
 the poor man had been hard worked that day. and 
 stood much in need of repose. He frequently fell 
 asleep, and frequently awoke. On falling asleep, 
 his helmet performed extremely undignified gyra- 
 tions. On awaking, he always started, opened his 
 eyes very wide, looked round inquiringly, then 
 smiled, and resumed a more easy position. But, 
 awake or asleep, his thoughts ran always in the 
 same channel. 
 
 During one of those waking moments, Joe heard 
 a sound which rooted him to his seat with horror ; 
 and would doubtless have caused his hair to stand 
 on end, if the helmet would have allowed it. The 
 sound was simple enough in itself, however ; being 
 slight, slow, and regular, and was only horrible in 
 Joe's mind, because of his being utterly unable to 
 account for it, or to conceive what it could be. 
 
 "Whatever the sound was, it banished sleep from 
 his eyes for at least a quarter of an hour. At last, 
 unable to stand the strain of uncertainty, he arose, 
 drew his hatchet, took down his lantern, and, 
 coughing loudly and sternly, as though to say : 
 " Have a care, I 'm coming ! " removed the door, 
 and wo.nt cautiously into the passage, where the 
 sound appeared to come from. It did not cease
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BKIGADE. 169 
 
 cm his appearing ; but went on slowly and steadily, 
 and louder than before. It appeared to be at his 
 very elbow ; yet Joe could see nothing, and a cold 
 perspiration broke out on him. 
 
 " Och ! av I could only see it ! " he gasped. 
 
 Just as he said this he did see it, for a turn of his 
 lantern revealed the fact that a drop of water fell 
 regularly from one of the burnt beams upon a large 
 sjjeet of paper which had been torn from the passage 
 wall. This, resting on the irregular rubbish, formed 
 a sort of drum, which gave forth a hollow sound. 
 
 "Ah, then, but ye are a goose, Joe Corney, me 
 boy ! " said the fireman, as he turned away with an 
 amiable smile and resumed his seat after replacing 
 the door. 
 
 About this time the wind began to rise, and canie 
 in irregular gusts. At each gust the door was blown 
 from the wall an inch or so, and fell back with a 
 noise that invariably awoke Joe with a start. He 
 looked round each time quickly ; but as the door 
 remained quiet he did not discover the cause of his 
 alarm. After it had done this several times Joe 
 became, so to speak, desperately courageous. 
 
 " Git out wid ye ! " he cried angrily, on being 
 startled again, " wasn't the last wan all a sham ? an" 
 sure ye 're the same. Go 'long in pace an' good 
 night ! " 
 
 As he said this the over-taxed man fell asleep ;
 
 170 RIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 at the same moment a heavy gust of wind drove the 
 door in altogether, and dashed it down on his head. 
 Fortunately, being somewhat charred, the pannel 
 that struck his helmet was driven out, so that Joe 
 came by no greater damage than the fright, which 
 caused his heart to bound into his throat, for h 
 really believed that the ghost had got him at last ! 
 
 Relieving himself of the door, which he laid on 
 the floor lest it should play him the same prank over 
 again, Joe Corney once more settled himself in the 
 easy-chair and resolved to give his mind to medita- 
 tion. Just then the City clocks pealed forth the 
 hour of four o'clock. 
 
 This is perhaps the quietest hour of the twenty- 
 four in London. Before this most of the latest 
 revellers have gone home, and few of the early risers 
 are moving. 
 
 There was one active mind at work at that hour, 
 however, namely, that of Gorman, who, after re- 
 covering from the blow given him by Dale, went to 
 bis own home on the banks of the Thames, in the 
 unaristocratic locality of London Bridge. 
 
 Gorman owned a small boat, and did various 
 kinds of business with it. But Gorman's occupa- 
 tions were numerous and not definite. He was 
 everything by turns, and nothing long. When visible 
 to the outward eye (and that wasn't often), his chief 
 occupations were loafing about and drinking. On
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 171 
 
 the present occasion he drank a good deal more than 
 usual, and lay down to sleep, vowing vengeance 
 against firemen in general, and Dale in particular. 
 
 Two or three hours later he awoke, and leaving 
 his house, crossed London Bridge, and wended his 
 way back to the scene of the fire without any 
 definite intention, but with savage desires in his 
 breast. He reached it just at that point where Joe 
 Qe*ney had seated himself to meditate, as above 
 described. 
 
 Joe's powers of meditation were not great at any 
 time. At that particular time they were exerted in 
 vain, for his head began to sway backward and for- 
 ward and to either side, despite his best efforts to 
 the contrary. 
 
 Waiting in the shadow of a doorway until the 
 policeman should pass out of sight and hearing, and 
 cautiously stepping over the debris that encumbered 
 the threshold of the burnt house, Gorman peeped 
 into the room, where the light told him that some 
 one kept watch. Great was his satisfaction and 
 grim his smile when he saw that a stalwart fireman 
 sat there apparently asleep. Being only able to see 
 his back, he could not make certain who it was, 
 but from the bulk of the man and breadth of the 
 shoulders he concluded that it was. Dale. Anyhow 
 it was one of his enemies, and that was sufficient, 
 for Gorman's nature was of that brutal kind that he
 
 1 72 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 would risk his life any day in order to gratify liis 
 vengeance, and it signified little to him which of 
 his enemies fell in his way, so long as it was one of 
 them. 
 
 Taking up a brick from the floor, he raised him- 
 self to his full height, and dashed it down on the 
 head of the sleeping man. Just at that moment 
 Corners nodding head chanced to fall forward, and 
 the brick only hit the comb of his helmet, knocking 
 it over his eyes. Next moment he was grappling 
 with Gorman. 
 
 As on previous occasions, Joe's heart had leaped 
 to his throat, and that the ghost was upon him " at 
 last " he had no manner of doubt ; but no sooner did 
 he feel the human arm of Gorman and behold his 
 face than his native courage returned with a bound. 
 He gave his antagonist a squeeze that nearly crushed 
 his ribs together, and at the same time hurled him 
 against the opposite wall. But Gorman was powerful 
 and savage. He recovered himself and sprang like 
 a tiger on Joe, who received him in a warm embrace 
 with an Irish yell ! 
 
 The struggle of the two strong men was for a few 
 moments terrible, but not doubtful, for Joe's muscles 
 had been brought into splendid training at the 
 gymnastics. He soon forced Gorman down on one 
 knee ; but at the same moment a mass of brickwork 
 which had been in a toppling condition, and was
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 173 
 
 probably shaken down by the violence of their 
 movements, fell on the floor above, broke through 
 it, and struck both men to the ground. 
 
 Joe lay stunned and motionless for a few seconds, 
 for a beam had hit him on the head ; but Gorman 
 leaped up and made off a moment or two before the 
 entrance of the policeman, who had run back to the 
 house on hearing Joe's war-whoop. 
 ^H[t is needless to add that Joe spent the remainder 
 of his vigil that night in an extremely wakeful con- 
 dition, and that he gave a most graphic account of 
 his ad venture 'with the ghosts on Ids return to thf 
 station I
 
 CHAPTER XV, 
 
 SECOUNT8 A VISIT PAID BY WILLIE WILLDERS, WHICH SHOWS HIM 
 A NEW PHABK OF LIFE. 
 
 "MOTHER," said Master William Willders one 
 night to his parent, as he sat at supper which meal 
 consisted of bread and milk " he 'a the j oiliest old 
 feller, that Mr. Tippet, I ever came across." 
 
 "I'm glad you like him, Willie," said Mrs. 
 Willders, who was busy patching the knees of a 
 pair of small unmentionables ; " but I wish, dear, 
 that you would not use slang in your speech, and 
 remember that fellow is not spelt with an e-r at the 
 end of it." 
 
 " Come now, mother, don't you go an' get sarcastic. 
 It don't suit you ; besides, there's no occasion for it. 
 for I do my best to keep it down, but I 'm so choke 
 full of it that a word or two will spurt up now and 
 then in spite o' me." 
 
 Mrs. Willders smiled and continued her patching ; 
 Willie grinned and continued his supper. 
 
 " Mother," said Willie, after an interval of silenca
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 175 
 
 " Well, my son ? " 
 
 " What d' ye think the old feller ah ! 1 mean 
 kHow is up to just now ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Willie." 
 
 " He 's inventin' a calc'latin' machine, as is to do 
 a.nythin' from simple addition to fractions, an' he 
 says if it works well he 11 carry it on to algebra an' 
 mathematics, up to the fizmal calc'lus, or somethin' 
 pM;hat sort. . Oh, you 've no notion how he strains 
 himself at it. He sits down in his shirt-sleeves at a 
 writin'-table he 's got in a corner, an' tears away at 
 the little hair he has on the sides of his head (I do 
 believe he tore it all off the top with them inven- 
 tions), then he bangs up an' seizes his tools, and 
 shouts, ' Look here, Willie, hold on ! ' an' goes sawin 
 and chisellin' and hammerin' away like a steam- 
 engine. He's all but bu'st himself over that cal- 
 c'latin' machine, and I'm much afraid that he'll 
 clap Chips into the sausage- machine some day, just 
 to see how it works. I hope he won't, for Chips an' 
 I are great friends, though we 've only bin a month 
 together." 
 
 "I hope he's a good man," said Mrs. Willders 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 " Well, I 'm sure he must be !" cried Willie, with 
 enthusiasm, "for he is very kind to me, and also 
 to many poor folk that come about him regularly. 
 I 'm gettin' to know their faces now, and when to
 
 176 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 expect 'em. He always takes 'ein into his back 
 room- -all sorts, old men and old women an' children, 
 most of 'em seedy enough, but some of 'em well off 
 to look at. What he says to 'em I don't know, but 
 they usually come out very grave, an' go away 
 thankin' him, and sayin' they won't forget his advice. 
 If the advice is to come back soon they certainly 
 don't forget it ! And he 's a great philosopher, too, 
 mother, for he often talks to me about my int'lec's. 
 He said jist t'other day, 'Willie,' said he, 'get into 
 a habit o' usin' yer brains, my boy. The Almighty 
 put us into this world well-made machines, intended 
 to be used in all our parts. Now, you'll find 
 thousands of people who use their muscles and 
 neglect their brains, and thousands of others who 
 use their brains and neglect their muscles. Both 
 are wrong, boy ; we 're machines, lad wonderful 
 machines and the machines won't work well if 
 they 're not used all over! Don't that sound grand, 
 mother ? " 
 
 Willie might have received an answer if he had 
 waited for one, but he was too impatient, and went 
 rattling on. 
 
 " And who d' ye think, mother, came to see old 
 Tippet the other day, but little Cattley the clown's 
 boy. You remember my tellin' you about little 
 Cattley and the auction, don't you ? " 
 
 "Yes, Willie."
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 177 
 
 " Well, he came, and just as he was goin' away I 
 ran out an' asked him how the fairy was. ' She 's 
 very ill,' he said, shakin' his head, and lookin' so 
 mournful that I had not the heart to ask more. But 
 I 'm goin' to see them, mother." 
 
 " That's right, my boy," said Mrs. Willders, with 
 a pleased look ; " I like to hear you talk of going to 
 see people in distress. ' Blessed are they that con- 
 sider the poor,' Willie." 
 
 " Oh, as to that, you know, I don't know that tLoy 
 are poor. Only I feel sort o' sorry for 'em, some- 
 how, and I 'm awful anxious to see a real live fairy, 
 even though she is ill." 
 
 "When are you going?" inquired Mrs. Will- 
 ders. 
 
 " To-morrow night, on my way home." 
 
 " Did you look in at Frank's lodging in passing 
 to-night?" 
 
 " Yes, I did, and found that he was in the station 
 on duty again. It wasn't a "bad sprain, you see, an' 
 it '11 teach him not to go jumpin' out of a first-floor 
 window again." 
 
 " He couldn't help it," said the widow. " You 
 know his escape by the stair had been cut off, and 
 there wos no other way left." 
 
 " No other way ! " cried Willie ; " why didn't he 
 drop? He's so proud of his strength, is Blazes, 
 that he jumped off-hand a' purpose to show it ! 
 
 M
 
 178 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Ha! he'd be the "better of some o' my caution. 
 Now, mother, I'm off to bed." 
 
 " Get the Bible, then," said Mrs. Willders. 
 
 Willie got up and fetched a large old family Bible 
 from a shelf, and laid it on the table before his 
 mother, who read a chapter and prayed with her 
 son ; after which Willie gave her one of his " ryos- 
 tering " kisses and went to bed. 
 
 The lamps had been lighted for some time next 
 night, and the shop-windows were pouring forth 
 their bright rays, making the streets appear as light 
 as day, when Willie found himself in the small dis- 
 reputable street near London Bridge, in which Cattley 
 the clown dwelt. 
 
 Eemembering the directions given to him by little 
 Jim Cattley, he soon found the underground abode 
 near the burnt house, the ruins of which had already 
 been cleared away and a considerable portion of a 
 new tenement erected. 
 
 If the stair leading to the clown's dwelling was 
 dark, the passage at the foot of it was darker ; and 
 as Willie groped his way carefully along, he might 
 have imagined it to be a place inhabited only by 
 rats or cats, had not gleams of light, and the sound 
 of voices from sundry closed doors, betokened the 
 presence of human beings. Of the compound smells 
 peculiar to the place, those of beer and tobacco pre- 
 dominated.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 179 
 
 At the farther end of this passage, there was an 
 abrupt turn to the left, which brought the boy un- 
 expectedly to a partially open door, where a scene 
 so strange met his eyes that he involuntarily stood 
 still and gazed. 
 
 In a corner of the room, which was almost 
 destitute of furniture, a little girl, wan, weary, and 
 thin, lay on a miserable pallet, with scanty covering 
 ojper her. Beside her stood Cattley not, as when 
 first introduced, in a seedy coat and hat ; but in full 
 stage costume, with three balls on his head, white 
 face, triangular roses on his cheeks, and his mouth 
 extended outward and upward at the corners, by 
 means of red paint. Little Jim sat on the bed 
 beside his sister, clad in pink skin-tights, with 
 cheeks and face similar to his father, and a red 
 crest or comb of worsted on his head. 
 
 " Ziza, darling, are you feelin' better, my lamb?" 
 said the elder clown, with a gravity of expression in 
 his real mouth that contrasted strangely with the 
 expression conveyed by the painted corners. 
 
 " No, father, not much ; but perhaps I 'm gettin' 
 better though I don't feel it," said the sweet, faint 
 voice of the child, as she opened her large hollow 
 eyes, and looked upward. 
 
 " So, that 's the fairy !" thought Willie sadly, as 
 he gazed on the child's beautiful though wasted 
 features.
 
 180 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " We '11 have done d'rectly, darling," said the 
 clown tenderly ; " only one more turn, and then 
 we'll leave you to rest quietly for some hours. 
 Now, then, here we are again !" he added, bounding 
 into the middle of the room with a wild laugh. 
 " Come along, Jirn, try that jump once more." 
 
 Jim did not speak ; but, pressing his lips to his 
 sister's brow, leaped after his sire, who was standing 
 in a remarkably vigorous attitude, with his legs 
 wide apart and his arms akimbo, looking back over 
 his shoulder. 
 
 " Here we go," cried Jim in a tiny voice, running 
 up his father's leg and side, stepping lightly on his 
 shoulder, and planting one foot on his head. 
 
 " Jump down," said the clown gravely. 
 
 Jim obeyed. 
 
 " That won't do, Jim. You must do it all. in one 
 run ; no pausing on the way, but, whoop ! up you 
 go, and both feet on my head at once. Don't be 
 afeard ; you can't tumble, you know." 
 
 " I 'm not afeard, father," said Jim : " but I ain't 
 quite springy in my heart to-night. Stand again 
 and see if I don't do it right off." 
 
 Cattley the elder threw himself into the required 
 attitude ; and Cattley, junior, rushed at him, ran up 
 him as a cat runs up a tree, and in a moment was 
 standing on his father's head with his arms ex- 
 tended. Whoop ! Next moment he was turning
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 181 
 
 round in the air ; and whoop ! in another moment 
 he was standing on the ground, bowing respectfully 
 to a supposed audience. 
 
 To Jim's immense amazement, the supposed audi- 
 ence applauded him heartily ; and said, " Bravyo ! 
 young un," as it stepped into the room, in the per- 
 son of William Willders. 
 
 " Why ! who may you be ?" inquired the clown 
 setrior, stepping up to the intruder. 
 
 Before Willie could answer, the clown junior 
 sprang on his father's shoulders, and whispered in 
 his ear. Whatever he said, the result was an ex- 
 pression of benignity and condescension on the 
 clown's face as far as paint would allow of such 
 expression. 
 
 " Glad to meet you, Master Willders," he said. 
 " Proud to know any one connected with T. Tippet, 
 Esq., who's a trump. Give us your flipper. What 
 may be the object of your unexpected, though wel- 
 come visit to this this subterraneous grotto, which 
 may be said to be next door to the coral caves, 
 where the mermaids dwell." 
 
 "Yes, and there's one o' the mermaids singing," 
 remarked the clown junior, with a comical leer, as a 
 woman's voice was heard in violent altercation with 
 some one. " She 's a sayin' of her prayers now ; 
 beseechin' of her husband to let her have her own 
 way."
 
 182 FIGHTING THE FL.1MES : A TALE OF 
 
 Willie explained that, having had the pleasure of 
 meeting with Jim at an auction sale some weeks 
 ago, he had called to renew his acquaintance ; and 
 Jim said he remembered the incident, and that, if 
 he was not mistaken, a desire to see a live fairy in 
 plain clo'se, with her wings off, had something to do 
 with his visit. 
 
 " Here she is ; by the way, what's your name ?" 
 
 " Bill Willders." 
 
 " Here she is, Bill ; this is the fairy," he said, in 
 quite an altered tone, as he went to the bed, and 
 took one of his sister's thin hands in both of his. 
 " Ziza, this is the feller I told ye of, as wanted to 
 see you, dear ; b'longs to Mr. Tippet." 
 
 Ziza smiled faintly, as she extended her hand tc 
 Willie, who took it and pressed it gently. 
 
 Willie felt a wonderfully strong sensation within 
 his heart as he looked into the sufferer's large liquid 
 eyes ; and for a few seconds he could not speak. 
 Suddenly he exclaimed " Well, you ain't one bit 
 like what I expected to see. You're more like a 
 angel than a fairy." 
 
 Ziza smiled again, and said she didn't feel like 
 either the one or the other. 
 
 " My poor lamb," said the clown, sitting down on 
 the bed, and parting the dark hair on Ziza's fore- 
 head, with a hand as gentle as that of a mother, 
 " we 're goin' now. Time 's up. Shall I ask Mrs
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 183 
 
 Smith to stay with you again, till we come 
 back ?" 
 
 " Oh no, no !" cried the child hurriedly, and 
 squeezing her fingers into her eyes, as if to shut out 
 some disagreeable object. " Not Mrs. Smith. I 'd 
 rather be alone." 
 
 " I wish I could stay with you, Ziza," said Jim 
 earnestly. 
 
 ,^'It's of no use wishin', Jim," said his father; 
 " you can't get off a single night. If you was to 
 fail 'em you 'd lose your engagement, and we can't 
 afford that just at this time, you know ; but I '11 
 try to get Mrs. James to come. She's a good 
 woman, I know, and " 
 
 " Mister Cattley," interrupted Willie, " if you '11 
 allow a particlarly humble individual to make a 
 observation, I would say there 's nothin' in life to 
 prevent me from keepin' this 'ere fairy company 
 till you come back. I 've nothin' particular to do 
 as I knows on, an' I'm raither fond of lonely 
 meditation ; so if the fairy wants to go to sleep, 
 it 11 make no odds to me, so long 's it pleases her." 
 
 " Thankee, lad," said the clown ; " but you '11 
 git wearied, I fear, for we won't be home till 
 mornin " 
 
 "Ah!" interrupted Willie, "till daylight does 
 appear. But that's no odds, neither, 'cause I'm 
 not married yet, so there 's nobody awaitin' for me
 
 184 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 and" (he winked to Jim at this point) " my mother 
 knows I 'm out." 
 
 The clown grinned at this. " You 'd make one 
 of us, youngster," said he, " if ye can jump. Hows- 
 ever, I 'm obliged by your offer, so you can stay if 
 Ziza would like it." 
 
 Ziza said she would like it, with such goodwill 
 that Willie adored her from that moment, and 
 vowed in his heart he would nurse her till she, he 
 did not like to finish the sentence ; yet, somehow, 
 the little that he had heard and seen of the child 
 led him irresistibly to the conclusion that she wa& 
 dying. 
 
 This having been satisfactorily arranged, the 
 Cattleys, senior and junior, threw cloaks round 
 them, exchanged their wigs for caps ; and, regard- 
 less of the absurd appearance of their faces, hurried 
 out to one of the minor theatres, with heavy hearts 
 because of the little fairy left so ill and comfortless 
 at home. 
 
 In a few minutes they were tumbling on the 
 stage, cracking their jokes, and convulsing the 
 house with laughter.
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 W WHICH WILLIE WILLDERS COMES OUT IN QUITE A NEW LIGHT. 
 
 **""*'' 
 
 LEFT alone with the fairy, Willie Willders began 
 Ms duties as sick-nurse, a sphere of action into 
 which he had never thought of being introduced, 
 even in his wildest dreams. 
 
 He began by asking the fairy if she was all right 
 and comfortable, to which she replied that she was 
 not ; upon which he explained that he meant was 
 she as right and comfortable as could be expected in 
 the circumstances ; could he do anything for her, in 
 fact, or get her anything that would make her more 
 comfortable than she was, but the fairy shook her 
 poor head and said, " No." 
 
 " Come, now, won't you have somethin' to eat ? 
 What had you for dinner?" said Willie, in a cheery 
 voice, looking round the room, but not discovering 
 any symptoms of food beyond a few empty plates 
 and cups (the latter without handles), and a teapot 
 with half a spout. 
 
 " I had a little bre<td and butter," said the fairy.
 
 186 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " No tipple ?" inquired the nurse. 
 
 " No, except water." 
 
 " Ain't there none in the house ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " D'ye git nothin' better at other times ?" inquired 
 Willie, in surprise. 
 
 " Not often. Father is very poor. He was ill 
 for a long time, too, and if it hadn't been for your 
 kind master I think we should all have starved. 
 He's better now, but he needs pretty good living 
 to keep hiir. up to his work for there 's a deal of 
 training to be done, and it wears him out if he don't 
 get meat. But the pantomimes began and we were 
 getting on better, when the fire came and burnt 
 everything we had almost, so we can't afford much 
 meat or beer, and I don't like beer, so I Ve got them 
 persuaded to let me live on bread and butter and 
 water. I would like tea better, because it 's hot, but 
 we can't afford that." 
 
 Here was a revelation ! The fairy lived upon 
 bread and butter and water ! Willie thought that 
 but for the interpolation of the butter it would have 
 borne marvellous resemblance to prison fare. 
 
 "When had you dinner?" inquired Willie sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " I think about four o'clock." 
 
 " An* can't you eat nothin' now ?" 
 
 Again the fairy shook her head.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 187 
 
 "Nor drink?' 
 
 " Look if there 's anything in the teapot," said the 
 fairy. 
 
 Willie looked, shook his head and said " Not a 
 drop." 
 
 " Any leaves ?" 
 
 " Why, y-yes," he brought the pot nearer to the 
 candle ; " there are a few used-up ones." 
 f~" Oh, do pour some hot water into it ; but I fear 
 the water is cold, and the fire 's too low to boil it, 
 and I know the coals are done ; but father gets paid 
 his salary to-morrow, and hell give me some tea 
 then. He 's very kind to me, father is, and so is Jim." 
 
 She sighed as she spoke, and shut her eyes. 
 
 " Ziza," said Willie in a careless tone, " you won't 
 object to my leavin' you for a few minutes ; only a 
 few ; I want to get a little fresh air, an' see what 
 sort of a night it is ; I won't be long gone." 
 
 Ziza, so far from objecting, said that she was used 
 to being left alone for long long hours at a time, and 
 wouldn't mind it. So Willie put the candle nearer 
 to her bedside, placed a tea- cup of water within 
 reach, went out, shut the door softly behind him, 
 groped his way through the passage and up the stair, 
 and got into the street. 
 
 That day his eccentric employer had paid him his 
 first month's wage, a sovereign, with many compli- 
 mentary remarks as to his usefulness. The golden
 
 188 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 coin lay in his pocket. It was the first he had ever 
 earned. He had intended to go straight home and 
 lay the shining piece in his mother's lap, for Willie 
 was a peculiar boy, and had some strange notions in 
 regard to the destination of "first-fruits." Where 
 he had got them nobody could tell Perhaps his 
 mother knew, but nobody ever questioned her upon 
 the point. 
 
 Taking this gold piece from his pocket, he ran 
 into the nearest respectable street, and selected there 
 the most respectable grocer's shop, into which he 
 entered, and demanded a pound of the shopman's 
 best tea, a pound of his best sugar, a pound of his 
 best butter, a cut of his best bacon, and one of hi? 
 best wax-candles. Willie knew nothing about rela- 
 tive proportion in regard to such things ; he only 
 knew that they were usually bought and consumed 
 together. 
 
 The shopman looked at the little purchaser in 
 surprise, but as Willie emphatically repeated his 
 demands he gave him the required articles. On 
 receiving the sovereign he looked twice at Willie, 
 rung the piece of money three tunes on the counter, 
 and then returned the change. 
 
 Gathering the packages in his arms, and putting 
 the candle between his vest and bosom, he went 
 into a baker's shop, purchased a loaf, and returned 
 to the " subterraneous grotto" laden like the bee.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 189 
 
 To say that the fairy was surprised when he dis- 
 played these things, would be a feeble use of lan- 
 guage. She opened her large eyes until Willie 
 begged her in alarm not to open them wider for fear 
 they should come out, at which sally she laughed, 
 and then, being weak, she cried. 
 
 After that she fell in with her nurse's humour, 
 and the two proceeded to " have a night of it." Ziza 
 aid she'd be a real fairy and tell him what to do. 
 and Willie said he 'd be a gnome or a he-fairy and 
 do it. 
 
 At the outset Willie discovered that he had for- 
 gotten coals, but this was rectified by another five 
 minutes' airing, and a rousing fire was quickly roar- 
 ing in the chimney, while the kettle sang and splut- 
 tered on it like a sympathetic thing, as no doubt it 
 was. Willie cleared the small table that stood at 
 the invalid's bed-side, and arranged upon it the loaf, 
 the teapot, two cracked tea-cups, the butter and 
 sugar, and the wax-candle which latter was stuck 
 into a quart bottle in default of a better candle- 
 stick. 
 
 "Now ain't that jolly?" said the nurse, sitting 
 down and rubbing his hands. 
 
 " Very !" replied the patient, her eyes sparkling 
 with delight 
 
 " It 's so like a scene in a play," continued Willie 
 
 " Only much more real," suggested the fairy
 
 190 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Now, then, Ziza, have a cup o' tea, fresh from 
 the market o' Chiny, as your dad would say, if he 
 was sellin' it by auction. He's a knowin' codger 
 your dad is, Ziza, There. I knowed I forgot some- 
 thin' else the cream !" 
 
 "I don't mind it, indeed I don't," said Ziza 
 earnestly. 
 
 Willie had started up to run out and rectify this 
 omission, but on being assured that the fairy liked 
 tea almost as well without as with cream, and that 
 there was no cream to be got near at hand, he sat 
 down again and continued to do the honours of the 
 table. First he made the fairy sit up in bed, and 
 commented sadly on her poor thin neck as she did 
 it, observing that she was nothing better than a 
 skeleton in a skin. Then he took off his own jacket 
 and put it on her shoulders, tying the arms round 
 her neck. Next he placed a piece of board in front 
 of her, saying that it was a capital tray, and on this 
 he arranged the viands neatly. 
 
 " Now, then, go at it, Ziza," he said, when all was 
 arranged. 
 
 Ziza, who received his attentions with looks that 
 were wonderfully gleeful for one in her weak state 
 of health, went at it with such vigour that the bread 
 was eaten and the tea drunk in a few minutes, and 
 the supply had to be renewed. When she was 
 in the middle of her second round of buttered toast
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 191 
 
 (for Willie had toasted the bread), she stopped sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " Why don't you go on ?" asked Willie. 
 
 " Because you have not eaten or drunk one mouth- 
 ful yet." 
 
 " But I 'm lookin* at you, and ain't that better ? 
 Howsever, if ye won't go on I '11 not keep you back," 
 and with that Willie set to work, and being uncom- 
 monly hungry, did what he styled " terrible execu 
 tion among the wittles." 
 
 For some time the nurse and patient ate in com- 
 parative silence, but by degrees they began to talk, 
 and as they became more confidential their talk 
 became more personal. 
 
 "D'you like bein' a fairy?" said Willie, after a 
 lull in the conversation. 
 
 " No, I don't," replied Ziza. 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Because because I don't like the kind of things 
 we have to do, and and in short, I don't like 
 it at all, and I often pray God to deliver me from 
 it." 
 
 "That's strange, now," said Willie, "I would 
 have thought it great fun to be a fairy. I 'd rather 
 be a little clown or a he- fairy myself, now, than 
 anything else I know of, except a fireman." 
 
 " A fireman, Willie !" 
 
 " Yes, a fireman. My brother, Blaz a Frank, J
 
 192 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 mean, is one, and he saved the lives of some people 
 not long since." 
 
 Of course Willie here diverged into a graphic 
 account of the fire in Beverly Square, and, seeing 
 that Ziza listened with intense earnestness, he 
 dilated upon every point, and went with special 
 minuteness into the doings of Frank. 
 
 When he concluded, Ziza heaved a very deep sigh 
 and closed her eyes. 
 
 " I Ve tired you, Ziza," exclaimed Willie, jumping 
 up with a look of anxiety, and removing the tea- 
 board and jacket, as the child slipped down under 
 the clothes. He asked if she wanted to go to sleep. 
 
 " Yes, for I 'm very tired," she sighed languidly ; 
 then added, " but please read to me a little first." 
 
 "What book am I to read you?" said Willie, look- 
 Ing round the room, where no book of any kind was 
 to be seen. 
 
 " Here, it 's under the pillow." 
 
 Willie put his hand under the pillow and pulled 
 out a small pocket- Bible. 
 
 " Read the third chapter of St. John's Gospel," 
 said the child, closing her eyes. 
 
 Willie read in the monotonous tones of a school- 
 boy's voice until he came to the sixteenth verse: 
 " For God so loved the world, that he gave His 
 only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him 
 should hot perish, but have everlasting life."
 
 TAKING TEA WITH A FAIRY. PAGE 192.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 193 
 
 " Stop at that verse/' whispered Ziza. " T '11 go 
 to sleep now." 
 
 Her deep breathing soon proclaimed that she 
 was in the land of dreams, so Willie removed the 
 candle a little farther away from her, and then rest- 
 ing his elbows on the table and his head in his 
 hands began to read the Bible. He turned over a 
 few pages without much intention of finding any 
 particular place, for he was beginning to feel sleepy. 
 
 The first words his eyes fell upon were, " Blessed 
 are they that consider the poor." 
 
 He roused up a little at this, and read the verse 
 again, for he connected it with the fact that the 
 fairy was poor. Then he pondered it for some time, 
 and, falling asleep, dropt his head on the Bible with 
 such force that he woke up for a little and tried to 
 read again, but do what he would he could not get 
 beyond that verse : finally he gave up the attempt, 
 and, laying his forehead down upon it, quickly fell 
 sound asleep. 
 
 In this state the couple were discovered, an hour 
 or two later, by Messrs. Cattley senior and junior on 
 their return from the theatre. 
 
 " Inscrutable mysteries ! say, what is this ?" ex- 
 claimed the elder clown, advancing into the room 
 on tiptoe. 
 
 Apostrophizing his eye and one Betty Martin, the 
 younger clown said that it was a " rare go and no 
 
 N
 
 194 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 mistake," whereupon his father laid his hand on 
 Willie's shoulder and gently shook him. 
 
 "Eh! another cup, Ziza?" exclaimed the self- 
 accused nurse, as he put out his hand to seize the 
 tea-pot. " Hallo ! I thought it was the fairy," he 
 added, looking up with a sleepy smile; " I do believe 
 I Ve gone and fell asleep." 
 
 " Why, lad, where got ye all those things ?" in- 
 quired the senior Cattley, laying aside his cloak and 
 cap, and speaking in a low tone, for Ziza was still 
 sleeping soundly. 
 
 " Well, I got 'em," replied Willie in a meditative 
 tone, "from a friend of mine a very partikler 
 friend o' mine as declines to let me mention his 
 name, so you '11 have to be satisfied with the wittles 
 and without the name of the wirtuous giver. Fr'aps 
 it was a dook, or a squire, or a archbishop as did it. 
 Anyway his name warn't Walker. See now, you 've 
 bin an woke up the fairy." 
 
 The sick child moved as he spoke, but it was only 
 to turn, without awaking, on her side. 
 
 " Well, lad," said the clown, sitting down and look- 
 ing wistfully in the face of his daughter, " you Ve 
 got your own reasons for not tellin' me mayhap 
 I Ve a pretty good guess anyhow I say God bless 
 him, for I do b'lieve he 's saved the child's life. I Ve 
 not seen her sleep like that for weeks. Look at her, 
 Jim ; ain't she like her old self 3 "
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 195 
 
 " Yes, father, she don't need no paint and flour to 
 make a fairy on her just now. She 's just like what 
 she was the last time I seed her go up in a gauze 
 cloud to heaven, with red and blue fire blazin' al] 
 round her." 
 
 " 1 11 bid ye good-night now," said Willie, button- 
 ing up his jacket to the chin, and pulling his cap 
 down on his brows with the air of a man who has a 
 Ipng walk before him. 
 
 " You 're off, are you eh ?" said the elder clown, 
 rising and taking "Willie by the hand, " well, you 're 
 a good lad. Thank 'ee for comin' here an' takin' 
 care of Ziza. My subterranean grotto ain't much 
 to boast of, but such as it is you 're welcome to it at 
 all times. Good-night." 
 
 " Good-night," said Willie; "good-night, Jim." 
 
 Jim replied good-night heartily, and then Willie 
 stepped into the dark passage. He glanced back at 
 the fairy before shutting the door, but her eyes were 
 closed, so he said good-ni^ht to her in his heart, and 
 went home.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 PRESENTS TWO GLIMPSES 07 HOME Lm. 
 
 " MY dear Miss Tippet, I shall never, no 
 get over it." 
 
 So said and so undoubtedly thought a thin little 
 old lady with remarkably bright eyes, and a sweet 
 old face, as she sat sipping tea at Miss Tippet's 
 elbow. 
 
 It was in the drawing-room of Miss Deemas that 
 she sat, and the Eagle sat opposite to her. 
 
 "It was very dreadful," responded Miss Tippet 
 with a sigh " very." 
 
 " It was awful. I know I shall never get over it, 
 never," repeated the little old lady, finishing her 
 tea, and asking for another cup in the calmest pos- 
 sible voice, with the sweetest possible smile. 
 
 "Oh yes, you will, Mrs. Demnan," said Miss 
 Deemas snappishly. 
 
 "No, indeed, I won't," repeated Mrs. Denman; 
 "how can I? Just think of the situation. Sitting
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 197 
 
 in my chair in dishabille, when a man a MAN, Miss 
 Deemas " 
 
 " Well, I know what a man is," said the Eagle 
 bitterly; "why don't you go on?" 
 
 " Burst himself through my bedroom-door," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Denman, " with lime and charcoal and 
 brick-dust and water streaming down his face, 
 f fo olded me in his arms, bore me out into the 
 street the street ! Oh ! I shall never, never get over 
 it ; and so little, so very little clothing on me " 
 
 " How much had you on ?" asked Miss Deemas 
 in a deep voice, the calmness of which contrasted 
 forcibly with Mrs. Denman's excited tones. 
 
 "Keally, Miss Deemas, I see no necessity for 
 going into particulars. It is sufficient to know that 
 / was carried by a man into the street in the face of 
 some thousands of people, for I heard them cheering 
 though I saw them not. I know I shall never get 
 over it another cup, my love ; not quite so much 
 sugar no, not if I were to live to the age of Methu- 
 saleh." 
 
 " I don't wonder, indeed I don't," murmured the 
 sympathetic Miss Tippet. "I think, Julia dear, 
 you are a little too hard on Mrs. Denman. How 
 would you like to have been carried out of a burn- 
 ing house in such a way by a big rough man ?" 
 
 " Oh, my dear," interposed Mrs. Denman, " I did 
 not say he was rough. Big he certainly was, and
 
 198 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 strong, but I must do him the justice to say that the 
 man li lif oh me ! lifted me up very tenderly, 
 and carried me as though I had been an infant and 
 he my mother, through smoke and fire and water, 
 into the street, before the eyes of the whole oh, 
 it's too awful to think of!" 
 
 " Stuff ! " ejaculated Miss Deemas, pecking a piece 
 of cake out of her fingers as she would, metaphori- 
 cally of course, have pecked the eyes out of the 
 head of Frank Willders, or any other man. " Didn't 
 you say he put a blanket round you ?" 
 
 " Of course, Miss Deemas ; I should have died 
 otherwise of pure shame." 
 
 " No, you wouldn't," retorted the Eagle. " You 
 would probably have been half suffocated and a 
 good deal dirtied, and you might have been singed, 
 but you wouldn't have died; and what need you 
 care now, for the people saw nothing but a bundle. 
 You might have been a bundle of old clothes for 
 all they knew or cared All they wanted to see was 
 the bravery, as they call it, of the man ; as if there 
 were not hundreds upon hundreds of women who 
 would do the same thing if their muscles were strong 
 enough, and occasion served." 
 
 " But it was a brave act, you know," said Miss 
 Tippet timidly. 
 
 " I don't know that," retorted Miss Deemas, help- 
 ing herself to more cake with as much decision of
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 199 
 
 manner as if she had been carrying it off by forco 
 of arms from before the very muzzles of a masculine 
 battery. "I don't know that. He had to escape, 
 you know, for his own life, and he might as well 
 bring a bundle along with him as not." 
 
 " Yes ; but then," said Miss Tippet, " he first 
 went up the the thingumy you know." 
 
 " No, he didn't," retorted Miss Deemas smartly ; 
 'Viie was in the house at the time, and only came 
 down the ' thingumy/ as you call it !" 
 
 It was a peculiarity of Miss Deemas's character, 
 that she claimed the right to be as rude as she chose 
 to people in her own house, and rather prided herself 
 on this evidence of independence. 
 
 " In my opinion," said Mrs. Denman, " his being 
 in the burning house at all of his own accord, was 
 of itself evidence of courage. I think the fireman 
 is a brave young man." 
 
 Thus much Mrs. Denman said with dignity to 
 Miss Deemas. The remainder of her speech she 
 addressed to Miss Tippet. 
 
 "But, my dear, I feel that although I owe this 
 young man a debt of .gratitude which I can never 
 repay, I shall never be able to look my preserver in 
 the face. I know that his mind will always revert 
 when he sees me, to the fi fig the figure that he 
 lifted out of that easy-chair. But there is one 
 thing I have resolved on," continued the little old
 
 200 FIGHTING THE. FLAMES : A TALE OP 
 
 lady in more cheerful tones, as she asked for an- 
 other cup of tea, " and that is, to get a fireman to 
 instruct me as to the best method of saving my own 
 life should fire again break out in my dwelling." 
 
 The Eagle gave a hysterical chuckle at this. 
 
 " I have already written to one who has been 
 recommended to me as a shrewd man, and he is 
 coming to call on me this very evening at seven 
 o'clock." 
 
 Mrs. Denman started, as if her own remark had 
 ? ecalled something, and pulled out her watch. 
 
 " Why, it is almost half-past six !" she exclaimed, 
 rising hastily. " Excuse a hurried departure, Miss 
 Deemas. Your society and sympathy" (she looked 
 pointedly at Miss Tippet here) " have been so agree- 
 able that I did not observe how time was flying. 
 Good-bye, Miss Deemas. Good evening, dear Miss 
 Tippet." 
 
 Miss Deemas bowed. 
 
 " Good-bye, my love," said Miss Tippet, bustling 
 round her friend. " I 'm so glad to have met you, 
 and I hope you 11 come and see me soon ; 6 Poor- 
 thing Lane, remember. Come whenever you please, 
 dear Mrs. Denman. Yes, yes, time does indeed fly, 
 as you say ; or as my friend, Sir Archibald What 's- 
 his-name used to remark, ' Tempit fugus something 
 re-what's-isname.' Good-bye, dear Mrs. Denman." 
 
 While the ladies were thus engaged, one whom
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 201 
 
 the Eagle would have tossed her beak at with 
 supreme contempt was enjoying himself in the 
 bosom of his family. This was none other than Joe 
 Corney himself, who, having received a stop for a 
 distant fire, had looked in on his wife to tell her of 
 the note he had received from Mrs. Denman. 
 
 The family bosom resided in a small portion of a 
 small house in the small street where the fire-engine 
 
 Joe had laid his helmet on the table, and, having 
 flung himself into a chair, seized his youngest child, 
 a little girl, in his arms, raised her high above his 
 head and laughed in her face ; at which the child 
 chuckled and crowed to the best of its ability. 
 
 Meanwhile his eldest son, Joe junior, immedi- 
 ately donned the helmet, seized the poker, thrust 
 the head of it into a bucket of water, and, pointing 
 the other end at a supposed fire, began to work an 
 imaginary hand-pump with all his might. 
 
 " It 'a goin' out, daddy," cried the urchin. 
 
 " Sure he 's a true chip o' the owld block," ob- 
 served his mother, who was preparing the evening 
 meal of the family ; " he 's uncommon fond o' fire 
 an' wather." 
 
 " Molly, my dear," said the fireman, " I'd have ye 
 kape a sharp eye on that same chip, else his fond- 
 ness for fire may lead to more wather than ye 'd wish 
 for."
 
 202 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " I Ve bin thinkin' that same meself, honey," re- 
 plied Mrs. Corney, placing a pile of buttered toast 
 on the table. " Shure didn't I kitch him puttin' a 
 match to the straw bed the other day ! Me only 
 consolation is that ivery wan in the house knows 
 how to use the hand-pump. Ah, then, ye won't 
 believe it, Joe, but I catched the baby at it this 
 mornin', no later, an' she 'd have got it to work, I do 
 believe, av she hadn't tumbled right over into the 
 bucket, an' all but drownded herself. But, you 
 know, the station's not far off, if the house did 
 git alight. Shure ye might run the hose from 
 the ingin to here without so much as drawin' her 
 out o' the shed. Now, then, Joe, tay's ready, so 
 fall to." 
 
 Joe did fall to with the appetite of a man who 
 knows what it is to toil hard, late and early. Joe 
 junior laid aside the helmet and poker, and did his 
 duty at the viands like the true son of a fireman 
 not to say an Irishman and for five minutes or so 
 the family enjoyed themselves in silence. After 
 that Joe senior heaved a sigh, and said that it 
 would be about time for him to go and see the 
 old lady. 
 
 " What can it be she wants ? " asked Mrs. 
 Corney. 
 
 " Don't know," replied her husband. " All I know 
 is that she's the old lady as was bundled neck and
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 203 
 
 crop out o' the first-floor windy o' the house in 
 Holborn by Frank Willders. She's a quare owld 
 woman that. She 's got two houses no less ; wan 
 over the coachmaker's shop the shop bein' her 
 property an' wan in Kussell Square. They say 
 she 's rich enough to line her coffin with goold an 
 inch thick. Spakin' o' that, Molly my dear, a quare 
 thing happened to me the other night. It 's what 
 ^e call a coumdence." 
 
 "What's that, Joe?" 
 
 " Well, 't ain't easy to explain, but it means two 
 things happenin' together in a most onlikely way 
 d'ye see?" 
 
 " No, I don't, Joe," replied Mrs. Corney, helping 
 herself to another slice of toast. 
 
 " Well, it don't matter much," resumed Joe, " but 
 this is what it was : Mr. Dale an* me was sittin', 
 about two in the mornin', at the station fire smokin' 
 our pipes (for it was my turn on duty) an' chattin' 
 away about one thing an' another, when somehow 
 we got upon tellin' our experiences, an' Dale he 
 tells me a story o' how he was once called to a fire 
 in a cemetary, an' had to go down among the coffins 
 for they was afire an* what a fright some o' his 
 men got, when, just as he had finished, an' all my 
 flesh was creepin' at wot I 'd heard, there comes a 
 ring at the bell an' a call to a fire in Portland Street. 
 T runs an' gets out the ingin, an' Frank (he was my
 
 204 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 mate that night) he rings up the boys, an' away we 
 wint in tin minutes. It wasn't far, an' when we got 
 there in we wint into the house, which was full o' 
 smoke, but no fire to be seen. We wint coughin' 
 and sneezin* an' rabbin' our eyes down into a cellar, 
 where the lads of another ingine was at work before 
 us wi' the hand-pumps, an', would ye belaive it ? but 
 the walls o' that cellar was lined wi' coffins ! True 
 for ye, there they was, all sizes, as thick as they 
 could stand. I thought I was dramin', but it was 
 no drame, for it was an undertaker's shop ; an' when 
 I wint upstairs, after we diskivered the fire an' put 
 it out, I sees two coffins on tressels lyin' ready for 
 use. Wan was black-painted wood, no doubt for a 
 poor man, an' nothin' inside o 't The other along- 
 side was covered wid superfine black cloth an' silver- 
 mounted handles an' name-plate, an' it was all 
 padded inside an' lined wid white satin ! " 
 
 " White satin, Joe ? You 're jokin'." 
 
 " As sure as your name 's Molly, it was white 
 satin," repeated Joe ; " I wouldn't have belaived it 
 av I hadn't seen it ; but that 's the way the quality 
 goes to their graves. I looks at the two coffins as 
 I was comin' away, an' thinks I to myself, I wonder 
 whether the poor man or the rich man '11 be most 
 comfortable when they 're laid there ? 
 
 " Now, Molly, I '11 bid ye good-night an' be off to 
 see this owld lady, this Mrs. Denman. Look afther
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 206 
 
 that boy, now, an' kape the matches out of his way, 
 whativer ye do." 
 
 With this very needful warning, Joe Corney kissed 
 his wife and the baby, and went off to the station to 
 obtain leave of absence for a couple of
 
 CHAPTER XVTI1. 
 
 OX WHICH JOE CORNET 18 ASKED FOB ADVICE BY AN OLD LADY, AJttJ 
 QIVES HER MUCH MORE THAN SHE EXPECTED. 
 
 WENDING his way through the crowded streeta 
 Joe soon reached the door of the house in Russell 
 Square which belonged to Mrs. Denman. 
 
 The good lady had made use of a cab after quitting 
 Miss Deemas, so that she was at home and seated 
 in a luxuriously easy chair in her splendidly fur- 
 nished drawing-room when the fireman applied the 
 knocker. 
 
 " Does Mrs. Denman stop here, my dear ? " said 
 Joe to the smart servant-girl who opened the door. 
 
 " Yes," replied the girl, " and she told me to show 
 you up to the drawing-room whenever you came. 
 Step this way." 
 
 Joe pulled off his cap and followed the maid, who 
 ushered him into the presence of the little old lady. 
 
 " Pray take a chair," said Mrs. Denman, pointing 
 to one which had evidently been placed close to hers 
 on purpose. " You are a fireman, I understand?"
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 207 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," replied Joe, " 1 've bin more nor 
 tin years at the business now." 
 
 " You must find it a very warm business, I should 
 imagine," said Mrs. Denman, with a smile. 
 
 "True for ye, ma'am. My body's bin a'most 
 burnt off my sowl over and over again; but it's 
 cowld enough too sometimes, specially when ye've 
 got to watch the premises arter the fire 's bin put 
 o,t of a cowld winter night, as I had to do at your 
 house, ma'aEL" 
 
 Mrs. Denman started and turned pale. 
 
 " What ! d' you mean to say that you were at the 
 fire in in Holbom that night ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do, ma'am. Och ! but ye must be ill, 
 ma'am, for yer face is as white as a ghost. Shure 
 but it 's red now ! Let me shout for some wather 
 for ye, ma'am." 
 
 " No, no, my good man," said Mrs. Denmau, 
 recovering herself a little. " I I the fact is, it 
 did not occur to me that you had been at that fire, 
 else I would never but no matter. You didn't see 
 see any one saved, did you ?" 
 
 " See any one saved, is it ? Shure I did, an' yer- 
 self among the lot. Och! but it's Frank WiUders 
 as knows how to do a thing nately. He brought ye 
 out o' the windy, ma'am, on his showlder as handy 
 as if ye'd bin a carpet-bag or a porkmanty, 
 ma'am '"
 
 208 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Hush, man !" exclaimed poor Mrs. Denman, 
 blushing scarlet, for she was a very sensitive old 
 lady ; " I cannot bear to think of it. But how could 
 you know it was me ? It it might have been 
 anything a bundle, you know." 
 
 "Not by no manes," replied the candid Joe. 
 " We see'd your shape quite plain, ma'am, for the 
 blankit was tight round ye." 
 
 Mrs. Denman covered her face with her hand at 
 this point, and resting her elbow on the arm of her 
 chair, reflected that the thing was beyond remedy, 
 and that, as the man had come and was now looking 
 at her, matters could not be worse ; so she resolved 
 to carry out her original intention, and question 
 him as to the best course of action in the event 
 of fira 
 
 " My good man," she said, " I have taken the 
 liberty of asking you to come here to tell me what 
 I should do to guard against fire in future." 
 
 Joe rubbed his nose and looked at the ground ; 
 then he stroked his chin and loo*ked at the old lady ; 
 then a look of intelligence lighted up his expressive 
 countenance as he said abruptly 
 
 " Is yer house an' furniture insured, ma'am ? " 
 
 " No, it is not," replied Mrs. Denman. " I have 
 never insured in my life, because although I hear of 
 fires every day in London, it has never occurred to 
 me until lately that there was any probability of my
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 209 
 
 house being burned. I know it was very foolish of 
 me, but I shall see to having it done directly." 
 
 " That 's right, ma'am," said Joe, with an ap- 
 proving nod. " If you see'd the heaps an* heaps o' 
 splendid furnitur' an' goods an' buildin's as is burnt 
 every day a'most in London, an' lost to the owners 
 'cause they grudged the few shillin's of insurance, 
 or 'cause they was careless an' didn't b'lieve a fire 
 would ever come to them, no matter how many 
 might come to other folk, you'd insure yer house 
 an' furnitur' first thing i' the mornin', ma'am." 
 
 " I have no doubt you say what is quite correct, 
 Mr. Corney, and I will certainly attend to this 
 matter in future ; but I am more particularly anxious 
 to know how I should act if the house in which I 
 live were to take fire." 
 
 " Get out of it as fast as possible," said Joe 
 promptly, " an' screech out fire ! till yer sides is 
 sore." 
 
 "But suppose," said Mrs. Denman, with a faint 
 smile, " that the fire is burning in the stair, and the 
 house full of smoke, what am I to do ?" 
 
 " Och ! I see yer drift now, ma'am," said Joe, with 
 a knowing look. " Av it 's that what ye wants to 
 know, I '11 just, with your lave, ma'am, give ye a 
 small discourse on the subjic." 
 
 Joe cleared his throat, and began with the air of a 
 man who knows what he is talking about. 

 
 21U FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " It 's as well, ma'ani, to begin by tryin' to preveiit 
 yer house ketchin' fire prevention bein' better nor 
 cure. If ye'd kape clear o' that, there's two or 
 three small matters to remimber. First of all take 
 oncommon good care o' your matches, an' don't let 
 the childer git at 'em, if you 've any in the house. 
 Would you believe it, ma'am, there was above fifty 
 fires in London last year that was known to ha' bin 
 set alight by childers playin' wid matches, or by 
 careless servants lettin' 'em drop an' treadin' on 'em?" 
 
 " How many ?" asked Mrs. Denman in surprise. 
 
 " Fifty, ma'am." 
 
 "Dear me! you amaze me, fireman; I had sup- 
 posed there were not so many fires in London in a 
 year." 
 
 " A year !" exclaimed Joe. " Why, there 's nearly 
 three fires, on the average, every twinty-four hours 
 in London, an' that 's about a thousand fires in the 
 year, ma'am." 
 
 " Are you sure of what you say, fireman ?" 
 
 " Quite sure, ma'am ; ye can ax Mr. Braidwood if 
 ye don't b'lieve me." 
 
 Mrs. Denman, still in a state of blank amazement, 
 said that she did not doubt him, and bade him go on. 
 
 " Well, then," resumed Joe, " look well arter yer 
 matches, an' niver read in bed; that's the way 
 hundreds o' houses get alight. When you light a 
 candle with a bit o' paDer, ma'am, don't throw it on
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 211 
 
 the floor an' tramp on it an' think it 's out, for many 
 a time there 's a small spark left, an' the wind as 
 always blows along the floor sets it up an' it kitches 
 something and there you are blazes an' hollerin' 
 an' ingins goin' full swing in no time. Then, ma'am, 
 never go for to blow out yer gas, an' if there 's an 
 escape don't rest till ye get a gasfitter and find it 
 out. But more particularly don't try to find it 
 jrerself with a candle. Och ! if ye 'd only seen the 
 blows-up as I've seen from gas, ye'd look better 
 arter it. Not more nor two weeks gone by, ma'am, 
 we was called to attend a fire which was caused by 
 an escape o' gas. Wen we got there the fire was 
 out, but sitch a mess you niver did see. It was 
 a house, ma'am, in the West End, with the most 
 illigant painted walls and cornices and gimcracks, 
 idged all with goold. The family had just got into it 
 noo done up for 'em, only, by good luck, there wasn't 
 much o' the furnitur' in. They had smelled a horrid 
 smell o' gas for a good while, but couldn't find it. At 
 last the missis, she goes with a workman an' a candle 
 to look for it, an* sure enough they found it in a 
 bath-room. It had been escapin' in a small closet 
 at the ind o' the bath, and not bein' able to git out, 
 for the door was a tight fit, it had gone away an' 
 filled all the space between the ceilin's an' floors, an' 
 between the lath, and plaster, and the walls. The 
 moment the door in the bath-room was opened all
 
 212 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 this gas took light an' blowed up like gunpowder. 
 The whole inner skin o' the beautiful drawing-room, 
 ma am, was blowed into the middle of the room. 
 The cook, who was in the drawin'-room passage, she 
 was blow'd down stairs; the workman as opened 
 the little door, he was blow'd flat on his back ; an 1 
 the missis, as was standin' with her back to a door, 
 she was lifted off her legs and blow'd right through 
 the doorway into a bedroom." 
 
 " Gracious !" exclaimed the horrified Mrs. Den- 
 man, " was she killed ?" 
 
 "No, ma'am, she warn't killed. Be good luck 
 they was only stunned an' dreadful skeared, but no 
 bones was broken." 
 
 Mrs. Denman found relief in a sigh. 
 
 " Well, ma'am," continued Joe, " let me advise you 
 to sweep yer chimleys once a month. When your 
 chimley gets afire the sparks they get out, and when 
 sparks get out of a windy night there's no tellin 
 what they won't light up. It 's my opinion, ma'am, 
 that them as makes the laws should more nor double 
 the fines for chimleys goin* afire. But suppose, 
 ma'am, your house gets alight in spite of you well 
 then, the question is what 's best to do ?" 
 
 Mrs. Denman nodded her old head six or seven 
 times, as though to say, " That is precisely the ques- 
 tion." 
 
 " I '11 tell you, ma'am;" here Joe held up the fore
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 213 
 
 finger of his right hand impressively. " In the first 
 place, every one in a house ought to know all the 
 outs and ins of it, 'cause if you Ve got to look for 
 things for the first time when the cry of ' Tire' is 
 raised, it 's not likely that you 11 find 'em. ' Now, 
 d' ye know, or do the servants know, or does any- 
 body in the house know, where the trap in the roof is ?" 
 
 Mrs. Denman appeared to meditate for a minute, 
 #ftd then said that she was not sure. She herself 
 did not know, and she thought the servants might 
 be ignorant on the point, but she rather thought 
 there was an old one in the pantry, but they had 
 long kept a cat, and so didn't require it. 
 
 " Och !" exclaimed Joe, with a broad grin, " sure 
 it 's a trap-door I 'm spakin' of." 
 
 Mrs. Denman professed utter ignorance on this 
 point, and when told that it ought to be known to 
 every one in the house as a mode of escape in the 
 event of fire, she mildly requested to know what she 
 would have to do if there were such a trap. 
 
 " Why, get out on the roof, to be sure" (Mrs. Den- 
 man shivered), " and get along the tiles to the next 
 house" (Mrs. Denman shut her eyes and shuddered) 
 " an' so make yer escape. Then you should have a 
 ladder fixed to this trap- door so as it couldn't be 
 took away, and ye should have some dozen fathoms o' 
 half-inch rope always handy, 'cause if ye was cut off 
 from the staircase by fire an' from the roof by smoke
 
 214 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OP 
 
 ye might have to let yourself down from a windy. 
 It's as well too to know how to knot sheets and 
 blankets together, so that the ties won't slip, for if 
 you have no rope they'd be better than nothin'. 
 You should also have a hand-pump, ma'am, and a 
 bucket of water always handy, 'cause if you take a 
 fire at the begmnin' it 's easy put out. An' it 's as 
 well to know that you should go into a room on fire 
 on your hands and knees, with your nose close to the 
 ground just as a pinter-dog goes 'cause there's 
 more air there than overhead ; an' it 's better to go 
 in wi' the hand-pump the first thing. Don't wait to 
 dress, ma'am." 
 
 "Stop, stop, Mr. Corney!" cried Mrs. Denman, 
 holding up her hand. 
 
 The little lady was stunned with the rapid utter- 
 ance of the enthusiastic fireman, and with the dread- 
 ful suggestion that she, Mrs. Denman, should, in the 
 dead of night, get upon the roof of her dwelling and 
 scramble over the tiles, or let herself down by a rope 
 from a window into the public street, or creep into 
 a burning room on her hands and knees with her 
 nose to the ground like a pointer, and all this, too, 
 in her night-dress, so she begged of him to stop, and 
 said 
 
 " But you forget, fireman, it is impossible for mt 
 to do any of these dreadful things." 
 
 " Well, ma'am," returned Joe coolly, " it wouldn't
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 215 
 
 be easy though, for the matter o' that, it 'a wonder- 
 ful what people will do for their lives ; but I was 
 tell in' ye, ma'am, what ought to be done, so as 
 somebody else in the house might do it, if you 
 couldn't. 
 
 " But suppose, ma'am," continued Joe, without 
 waiting for a reply, " suppose that the house is 
 alight. "Well, the first thing you 've got to do, is 
 mot to get into a fluster. That can't do no good, you 
 know, and is sure to do mischief. Keep cool. 
 That 's the first thing, ma'am ; and be deliberate in 
 all ye do. The second thing is, to wrap a blanket 
 round ye, an' get out of the house as fast as ye can 
 without stoppin' to dress. It's of no use lookin' 
 put out, ma'am ; for it 's better to escape without 
 yer clo'se than to be burnt alive in 'em. Then be 
 careful to shut all doors after ye as ye go. This 
 keeps the air from gittin' at the fire, and so smothers 
 it down till the ingines come up. Also keep all 
 windows shut. If the smoke is like to choke ye, 
 git yer nose as near the ground as possible, an' go 
 along on yer hands and knees. A bit o' flannel or a 
 worsted sock held over yer mouth an' nose, will help 
 you to bear it better. 
 
 " If ye can't escape by the street-door, or the trap 
 in the roof, then get into a front room, where you 
 will be more easy to be got at wid ladders or fire- 
 escapes, an' see that every mimber o' the household
 
 216 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 is there. Many a wan has bin forgotten in the 
 hurry-skurry of a fire, and left asleep in bed, igno- 
 rant o' the danger till too late ; when a cool head 
 might have missed 'em, and wakened 'em in time. 
 Whatever ye do, ma'am, keep cool" 
 
 The probability of poor Mrs. Denman keeping 
 cool in such circumstances was uncommonly small ; 
 for she was at that moment hot all over, and her 
 face flushed at the mere recital of such horrors ! 
 
 Joe then went on to state, that the very last 
 thing she should do was to jump from a window (a 
 somewhat unnecessary piece of advice, poor Mrs. 
 Denman thought), and that, when she was compelled 
 to take such a step, she should first of all pitch 
 over all the blankets and bedding she could lay 
 hold of to make her fall easy. He wound up with 
 an emphatic reiteration of the assurance that her 
 only chance lay in " keeping cool" 
 
 That night, poor Mrs. Denman, in a condition of 
 mind that is utterly indescribable, because incon- 
 ceivable, went through the whole of the dreadful 
 processes which Joe had described ; and did it, too, 
 with miraculous presence of mind and energy in 
 her dreams !
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SHOWS HOW DARK PLOTS ARE HATCHED. 
 
 * GORMAN was one of those peculiar character, 
 who, in personal appearance, are totally devoid of 
 peculiarity. He was a middle-sized, thickset, 
 commonplace, grave, quiet man; very powerful, 
 but not apparently so ; one whom it was impossible 
 to "find out," unless he chose to let himself be 
 found out. Above all, he was a reserved man. 
 
 Everybody knew well enough, at least among his 
 intimates, that he was named Gorman ; but not one 
 of the number knew what his Christian name was. 
 A few were aware that he signed himself " D. 
 Gorman ;" but whether the "D" represented David, 
 dastard, drunkard, or demon, was a matter of pure 
 speculation to all, a few of his female acquaintance 
 excepted (for he had no friends), who asserted 
 roundly that it represented them all, and some were 
 even willing to go the length of saying that it 
 represented more, and stood for dirty, drivelling, 
 desperate, and a few other choice words which it is
 
 218 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 quite unnecessary to mention. Only a few, and 
 these were among the knowing and peculiarly 
 observant ones of Gorman's intimates, said that 
 " D" stood for " deep." But then, many of those 
 who thus pronounced their opinion, were compara- 
 tively worthless characters, given to scandal and 
 slander ; so the reader must not allow himself to be 
 biassed too much by their report. 
 
 Certain it is, however, that when Gorman was 
 asked on one occasion what his Christian name 
 was, he replied that he had no Christian name; 
 because he didn't believe in Christianity, and that 
 he signed himself " D," to be distinguished from the 
 other Germans who might chance to exist in the 
 universe. 
 
 People were not at all shocked at his bold state- 
 ment of unbelief ; because, in the circle in which he 
 moved, the same disbelief was pretty general 
 
 Besides many other traits and qualities, definable 
 and indefinable, Gorman had the power of assuming 
 the appearance either of a burglar of the lowest 
 type, or a well-to-do contractor or tradesman. A 
 slight change in dress and manner were sufficient 
 to metamorphose him beyond recognition. 
 
 Everybody knew, also, that Gorman was the 
 landlord of a small public-house at the corner of a 
 dirty street, not far from London Bridge ; and that 
 he kept a stout, middle-aged man on the premises
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 219 
 
 to do the duty of host, while he himself went about 
 " other business," which nobody knew of, and 
 which no one could find out, although many had 
 tried to do so with all their might. 
 
 Every day in the year, Gorman might have been 
 seen at the " Golden Swan ;" but never for longer 
 than a few minutes at a time, when he inspected 
 the books, received the cash drawn the day before ;' 
 autoTmade an impression on all in the premises, that 
 tended to .convince them they were well looked 
 after. 
 
 "Humph!" ejaculated Gorman, as he finished 
 counting the dirty coppers and pieces of silver 
 which his agent had delivered to him, and dropped 
 them from his dirty fingers into a dirty leather bag : 
 " Business is dull, I think." 
 
 " It ain't brisk just now, sir," replied the deputy- 
 landlord of the " Golden Swan." 
 
 Gorman received this reply with another " Humph," 
 and then putting the bag in his coat pocket, pre- 
 pared to leave. 
 
 " No one bin askin' for me ?" inquired Gorman. 
 
 " No, sir ; no one." 
 
 " I '11 be back to-morrow about this time." 
 
 The deputy knew that this was false, for his 
 employer invariably came at a different hour each 
 day, in order to take " the house" by surprise ; but 
 he said, " Very well, sir," as usual.
 
 220 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " And mind," continued Gorman, " that you put 
 the lights out. You're uncommon careful about 
 that, I hope ? " 
 
 It is worthy of remark, in reference to Gorman's 
 anxiety about putting out lights, that he had been 
 burned out of several sets of premises in the course 
 of a few years. He was quite a martyr, as it were, 
 to fire. Unaccountably worried, pursued, and 
 damaged by it, no, not damaged, by the way ; 
 because Gorman was a prudent man, and always 
 insured to the full amount. His enemies sometimes 
 said above it ; but neither they nor we have any 
 means of proving or disproving that. 
 
 The deputy protested that he always exercised 
 the utmost precaution in putting everything out 
 every night from the last beery lingerer, to the gas 
 and that he felt quite put out himself at being 
 asked the question, as it implied a doubt of his care 
 and attention to business. Hereupon Gorman said 
 " Good-night," and the deputy returned to the 
 counter, where besotted men and drunken women 
 awaited his attendance. 
 
 Three quarters of an hour sufficed to convey Gor- 
 man from the east to the west end of London. 
 Here he sought the well-known precincts of Poor- 
 thing Lane, and entered the shop of Mr. David 
 Boone. 
 
 That worthy received him with a look of glad
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 221 
 
 surprise ; but with a feeling of the deepest 
 misery. 
 
 " Any one inside ?" asked Gorman. 
 
 " No," said Boone, " 'cept the boy. I '11 call him 
 to mind the shop, and then we can be alone." 
 
 As Gorman did not vouchsafe a reply, but walked 
 straight into the little room behind the shop, Boone 
 called the boy, and bade him mind the shop, while 
 b5"iield private consultation with his friend. 
 
 The shopboy enjoyed the name of Eobert Eoddy 
 He was a soft-faced, washed-out youth, with a dispo- 
 sition to wink both eyes in a meek manner. Bough- 
 spoken people called him an idiot, but Boddy was 
 not quite such an idiot as they took him for. He 
 obeyed his master's mandate by sitting down on a 
 tall stool near the window, and occupied himself in 
 attempting to carve a human face on the head of a 
 walking-stick. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Mr. Gorman," said Boone, seat- 
 ing his tall body on a low stool at the side of his 
 friend, who, with his hat on, had thrown himself 
 into an arm-chair, and spread out both legs before 
 the fire. " Very glad to see you indeed, in my 
 my little sanctum, my withdrawing room, if I may 
 venture to use the name, to which I retire during 
 the intervals of business." 
 
 Boone said this with an air of pleasantry, and 
 smiled, but his visitor did not encourage him.
 
 222 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Pretty loiig intervals, I should suppose," he 
 growled, pulling out his pipe and lighting it. 
 
 Boone admitted, with a sigh, that they were, and 
 observed thac trade was extremely dull astonish- 
 ingly dull. 
 
 " Why, would you believe it, sir, I have not sold 
 twenty shillings' worth o' goods all last week, and 
 only one wax-doll within the month, although it 's 
 gettin' well on for Christmas-time ? One would 
 a'most fancy the childr'n was about to give up such 
 vanities an' devote themselves to serious business. 
 It 's a serious business for the like of us, anyhow." 
 
 Again Mr. Boone smiled, and again failed to 
 make an agreeable impression on his visitor, who 
 demanded in a surly tone if he had been thinking 
 over it, and made up his mind to do it. 
 
 Boone's face changed at this indefinite question, 
 and became a shade paler than it was by nature, as 
 he replied, hesitatingly, that he had been thinking 
 over it, and that he had made up his mind not to 
 do it. 
 
 " Oh, you have, have you ?" said Gorman in a tone 
 of irony. " Very good ; then I '11 trouble you to 
 pay me the three hundred pounds you owe me by 
 this day next week, and the rent of this here tene 
 ment for last half." 
 
 Boone's face became still paler. 
 
 " You 're a hard landlord," said he.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 223 
 
 " You 're a soft tenant," retorted Gorman. 
 
 "You know what the punishment is by law," 
 continued Boone. 
 
 "Yes death," said the other dryly; "but you 
 know as well as I do that it's never carried out 
 now-a-days." 
 
 "But penal servitude for ten or twenty years 
 ain't much better." 
 
 ^J3ome men think it's worse," replied Gorman, 
 with a savage grin; "but you've no need to fear 
 If you only take the right precautions it's impos- 
 sible to find it out, an' I '11 engage to put ye up to 
 doin' it in such a way that there won't be a scrap the 
 size of a sixpence left to convict you. Only put a 
 bold face on it and the thing 's done, and your for- 
 tune made as well as mine." 
 
 The man's voice and manner softened a little as 
 he said this, for he thought he perceived symptoms 
 of wavering in his tenant, who covered his face with 
 his large thin hands and sighed deeply. 
 
 " Come, don't be hard on me," said he at length , 
 "I really haven't got courage to go through with 
 this. Only give me a little more time, and I '11 " 
 
 " Very good," interrupted Gorman with an oath, 
 as he rose and dashed his pipe into fragments on the 
 hearth ; " if you won't burn yourself out o' this 
 scrape " 
 
 " Hush ! hush, man !" said Boone in a hoarse
 
 224 FIGHTING THE FLAMPJS : A TALE OF 
 
 whisper ; u not so loud ; my lad will hear you 
 Come, I 'U think of it." 
 
 "Will you do it?" demanded the other fiercely 
 ' You know the alternative if you don't." 
 
 " Euination ? " 
 
 " Exactly so ; and that without delay." 
 
 " Euination either way," murmured Boone sadly 
 to himself, as though he were counting the cost. 
 
 " Tut, man," said his landlord, becoming more 
 gentle, " it 's nothing of the sort. If you only take 
 my advice it '11 be a jolly blaze, which, instead of 
 ending in smoke will end in some thousands of 
 pounds and commencing business again on fresh 
 capital Come, I 've not got time to waste with 
 you. There 's no escape for you, so you'd better say 
 yes, else I '11 go and have a talk with a legal friend 
 of mine who is used to screwing gold out of most 
 unpromising mines." 
 
 David Boone's face had by this time become so 
 pale that it could not become paler, so it turned 
 somewhat green instead. His teeth, too, had a 
 tendency to chatter when he spoke, but by a strong 
 mental effort he prevented this, and said in a sub- 
 dued voice that he was willing to do whatever his 
 landlord pleased to command. 
 
 " That 's all right," said Gorman, resuming his 
 seat in front of the fire ; " now you speak like a 
 mm Sit down and I '11 go over the matter with
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 225 
 
 you, and make your mind easy by showing you that 
 it ain't either a difficult or risky piece of work. 
 Bless you, it ain't the first time I 've been up to that 
 sort o' thing." 
 
 It did not require the diabolical leer that accom- 
 panied this remark to convince his hearer of its 
 truth. 
 
 " Now, then," said Gorman, with a business air, 
 " fiigt of all, how stands the stock in the shop ?" 
 
 "Kather low," answered Boone, who had re- 
 seated himself on the stool ; " in fact, I 've got little 
 or nothing more than what is visible. I 've bin so 
 hard- up of late that I 've had to crowd everything 
 into view an' make the most of appearances. All 
 the dressed dolls has got their frocks spread out, 
 and the undressed ones their arms an' legs throwed 
 about to make 'em take up as much room as pos- 
 sible. The lids of all the workboxes is open, the 
 slates and puzzle-boxes stuck up in single rows, 
 with their broadsides to the front, and the collap- 
 sin' worlds is all inflated. Everything in the front 
 is real, but all behind is sham dummies an' empty 
 boxes." 
 
 Gorman opened his eyes a little on hearing this. 
 
 " Good," he said, after a pause ; " you 're a 
 cleverer fellow than I took you for. I thought 
 you was well off, and I'm sure the neighbours 
 think the same, for the place looks pretty full an*
 
 226 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 thiivin'. I suppose, now, if it was all sold off yon 
 wouldn't have enough to pay up my loans ?" 
 
 " Nothink like it," said Boone earnestly. " I 've 
 slaved night and day, an' done my best, but luck 's 
 again' me." 
 
 "Ah, that's 'cause you've bin faint-hearted in 
 time past ; you 're goin' to be bold in time to come, 
 my good fellow ; you '11 have to be bold, you will 
 Come, I '11 explain how. But first, let me ask how 
 much you think the stock is worth." 
 
 " Not much above fifty pounds." 
 
 " Hum ! it looks like more." 
 
 'That's true, an' the people about think it's 
 worth two or three hundred, for you see I have a 
 lot o' cheap jewellery, and some of the inquisitive 
 ones have been trying to pump me of late. They all 
 think I 'm thriving," said Boone, shaking his head 
 sorrowfully. 
 
 " So you are, so you are, man," said Gorman 
 jocosely, " and you 're going to make your fortune 
 soon, and so am I, though at present I'm poor 
 enough. However, that don't matter. Here 's your 
 course for the future, which you're to steer by. 
 You '11 go an' begin chatting with your neigh- 
 bours at odd times, and your conversation, curiously 
 enough, will always be about the times bein' better 
 than usual, an' about the approach of Christmas, 
 an' the stock - you mean to lay in against that
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 227 
 
 festive season. After that you '11 lay in the stock 
 fifty pounds worth; and it won't be sham; it'll 
 be real " 
 
 " But where is the money to come from ?" asked 
 Boone. 
 
 " Oh, don't you trouble about the money ; I '11 
 provide that. I 've a curious power of raisin' the 
 wind on easy terms. Fifty pounds' worth of real 
 giftjds will be bought by you, my thriving shopman, 
 and you'll let some of the neighbours, partiklerly 
 these same inquisitive 'uns, see the goods and some 
 of the invoices, and you'll tell them that you've 
 laid in 150 worth of stock, and that you think of 
 layin' in more. On the strength of the press o' 
 business you'll get another shop-lad, and you'll 
 keep 'em employed a good deal goin' messages, so 
 that they won't get to know much about the state o' 
 things, and I '11 take care to send you a rare lot o' 
 customers, who '11 come pretty often for small pur- 
 chases, and give the shop an uncommon thrivin 1 
 look. Oh, we'll make a splendid appearance of 
 doin' business, and we'll have lots of witnesses 
 ready to bother these sharp lawyers if need be 
 won't we, Boone ?" 
 
 Poor Boone, whose colour had not yet improved 
 much, smiled in a ghastly way, but said nothing. 
 
 "Well, then," resumed Gorman, after a few 
 minutes' meditation, " when this thriving trade is
 
 228 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 in full swing we'll get it insured. You know it 
 would never do to risk the loss of such valuable 
 stock by fire eh, Boone? common prudence pints 
 that out ! You say what you have is worth fifty, 
 and what you'll lay in is fifty more, makin' a 
 hundred, so we '11 insure for five hundred ; there 's 
 a clear gain of four hundred per cent. ; only think- of 
 that ! Well, the house I have already insured for 
 five hundred, that makes nine hundred, and we'll 
 insure the furniture and fixings for fifty ; that '11 look 
 business-like, you know. Then the goods laid in 
 will be carefully removed in the night at various 
 times before the fire, so you had better see that they 
 are small and portable objects ; that '11 make another 
 fifty pounds, if not more. So I see my way to a 
 thousand pounds. That's a neat sum, ain't it, 
 Boone ? " 
 
 Still Boone made no reply, but favoured his visitor 
 with another ghastly smile. 
 
 " Well, then," pursued Gorman, " all you 've got 
 to do is, on a certain night that I will fix, to set the 
 shop alight, and the thing's done quite easy. But 
 that 's not all. You 've got an old mother, I believe ; 
 well, it would be very unnatural in you to run the 
 risk of being burned to death, an' leaving her penni- 
 less ; so you '11 insure your life for five hundred 
 pounds, and I'll pay the first premium on it, and 
 then you '11 die "
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 229 
 
 * Die ! " exclaimed Boone, with a start. 
 
 " Ay ; why not, if you 're to get a small fortune 
 by it?" 
 
 " But how 's that to be managed ? " inquired Boone 
 with a look of doubt. 
 
 "Managed? nothing easier. You'll be so des- 
 perately upset by the fire perhaps singed a little 
 too that you '11 be taken ill and won't get better. 
 Ij&. look carefully after you as your loving friend, 
 and when you 're about dead you '11 get up and clear 
 off in a quiet way. I '11 make arrangements to have 
 a corpse as like you as possible put in your bed, 
 and then you'll be buried comfortably, and we'll 
 share the insurance. Of course you '11 have to leave 
 this part of the town and disguise yourself, but that 
 won't be difficult. Why, man, if you were only fond 
 of a joke you might even attend your own funeral ! 
 It's not the first time that sort of thing has bin 
 done. So, then, you '11 have your life insured, but 
 not yet. Your first business is to set about the 
 purchase of the stock, and, let me tell you, there 's 
 no time to lose, so I advise you to write out the 
 orders this very night. I '11 fetch you fifty pounds 
 in a day or two, and you '11 pay up at once. It '11 
 look well, you know, and after it 's all settled we '11 
 divide the plunder. Now then, good-night. I con- 
 gratulate you on your thriving business." 
 
 Gorman opened the door of the inner room as he
 
 230 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 said the last words, so that the lad in the shop might 
 hear them. As he passed through the shop he 
 whispered in his friend's ear, "Mind the conse- 
 quences if you fail," and then left him with another 
 hearty good-night. 
 
 Poor David Boone, having sold himself to the 
 tempter, went about his duties like an abject slave. 
 He began by ordering goods from various wholesale 
 dealers in the City, after which he took occasion to 
 stand a good deal at his shop- door and accost such 
 of his neighbours as chanced to pass. The con- 
 versation at such times invariably began with the 
 interesting topic of the weather, on which abstruse 
 subject Boone and his friends displayed a surprising 
 profundity of knowledge, by stating not only what 
 the weather was at the time being, and what it had 
 been in time past, but what it was likely to be in 
 time to come. It soon diverged, however, to busi- 
 ness, and usually ended in a display of fresh goods 
 and invoices, and in references, on the part of Boone, 
 to the felicitous state of trade at the time. 
 
 Do what he would, however, this thriving trades- 
 man could not act his part well. In the midst of 
 his prosperity his smiles were ghastly and his 
 laughter was sardonic. Even when commenting on 
 the prosperity of trade his sighs were frequent and 
 deep. Some of his friends thought and said that 
 prosperity was turning the poor man's brain. Others
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 231 
 
 thought that he was becoming quite unnatural and 
 unaccountable in his deportment ; and a few, acting 
 on the principle of the sailor's parrot, which " could 
 not speak much, but was a tremendous thinker," 
 gave no outward indication of their thoughts beyond 
 wise looks and grave shakes of the head, by which 
 most people understood them to signify that they 
 feared there was a screw loose somewhere. 
 
 TMs latter sentiment, it will be observed, is a very 
 common one among the unusually wise ones of the 
 earth, and is conveniently safe, inasmuch as it is 
 more or less true of every person, place, and thing 
 in this sad world of loose screws.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WHEREIN THE TEMPTER DOES A LITTLE MORE IN THE HATCHING WAT. 
 
 ONE night Edward Hooper, having consulted his 
 watch frequently, and compared it with the clock of 
 slow notoriety in the warehouse in Tooley Street, 
 until his patience was almost gone, at last received 
 the warning hiss, and had his books shut and put 
 away before the minute-gun began to boom. He 
 was out at the door and half-way up the lane, with 
 his hat a good deal on one side of his head and 
 very much over one eye, before the last shot was 
 fired. 
 
 " It 's a jolly time of day this, the jolliest hour 
 of the twenty-four," muttered Ned to himself, with 
 a smile. 
 
 His speech was thick, and his smile was rather 
 idiotic, by reason of his having drunk more than his 
 usual allowance at dinner that day. 
 
 By way of mending matters, Ned resolved to renew 
 his potations immediately, and announced his inten- 
 tions to himself in the following words
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 233 
 
 " Com mi boy y-you '11 go-ave an-urrer por- 
 o-porer thash yr sort !" 
 
 At a certain point in the drunkard's downward 
 career he ceases to have any control over himself, 
 and increases his speed from the usual staggering 
 jog-trot to a brisk zigzag gallop that generally 
 terminates abruptly in the grave. 
 
 Ned Hooper, a kind-hearted fellow enough, and 
 thinking himself not so bad as he seemed because of 
 that same kind-heartedness, had reached the gallop- 
 ing point, and was travelling unusually fast along 
 the high road to ruin. 
 
 Being of a generous nature, Ned was in the habit 
 of extending his patronage to various beer- shops, 
 among others to that one near London Bridge which 
 has been described as the property of Gorman. 
 Business, pleasure, or fancy led him to that shop on 
 the evening in question. He was standing at the 
 counter steadying himself with his left hand and 
 holding a pewter-pot in his right, when the door of 
 the inner room opened, and Gorman crossed the 
 floor. He was in a thoughtful mood, and was about 
 to pass out without raising his eyes, when Ned 
 arrested him with 
 
 " Good ev-n-in', Misher Gorm'n." 
 
 Gorman glanced back, and then turned away as 
 if in contempt, but suddenly checking himself, 
 returned, and going up to Hooper with as affable a
 
 234 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 smile as his countenance would admit of, said that 
 he was delighted to shake hands with him, and that 
 he was the very man he wanted to see, as he wished 
 to have a word of conversation with him. 
 
 "Conv'shas'n wi' me?" said Ned, swaying him- 
 self to and fro as he endeavoured to look steadily in 
 the face of his friend ; " fire away, shen. I 'm sh' 
 man f'r conv'shash'n, grave or gay, comic-'r-shub- 
 lime, 's all the shame to me ! " 
 
 He finished the pot, and laid it, with an immense 
 assumption of care, on the counter. 
 
 " Come out, we '11 walk as we talk," said Gorman, 
 
 " Ha ! to b'shure ; 'at 's poetical, very good, very 
 good, we '11 wa-alk as we talk ha ! ha ! very good. 
 Didn't know you wash a poet eh ? don't look like 
 im." 
 
 " Come along then," said Gorman, taking him by 
 the arm. 
 
 " Shtop !" said Ned, drawing himself up with an 
 air of drivelling dignity, and thrusting his hand into 
 his trouser-pocket. 
 
 " What for?" asked the other. 
 
 " I haven't p-paid for my b-beer." 
 
 " Never mind the beer. 1 11 stand that,' said Gor- 
 man, dragging his friend away. 
 
 Ned consented to be dragged, and said something 
 to the effect that he hoped to have the pleasure of 
 standing treat on some future occasion.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 235 
 
 " Now, then," said Gorman, somewhat firmly, 
 though not sternly, for he knew that Ned Hooper 
 was not to be browbeat ; " are you sober enough to 
 attend to what I've got to say?" 
 
 " Shober as a dudge," answered Ned. 
 
 Gorman looked earnestly in his face for a few 
 moments, and then began to talk to him in a con- 
 tinuous strain by way of testing him. 
 
 ^'"O'found these cabs an' b-busseses ; a feller c- can't 
 hear a word," said Ned. 
 
 " Your lodgin's an't far off, are they ?" 
 
 " Close 't 'and," answered Ned. 
 
 " Let 's go to 'em," said Gorman. 
 
 In silence Ned Hooper led the way, and, conduct- 
 ing his friend into his " chamber," as he styled his 
 poor abode, begged him to be seated, and threw him- 
 self into an arm-chair beside the little fire. There 
 was a pipe on the chimney-piece, which Ned began 
 to fill, while Gorman opened the conversation. 
 
 "You're hard up, rather, just now?" said the 
 latter. 
 
 " 'Xactly so, that 's my c'ndition to a tee." 
 
 Ned smiled as he said this, as though it were the 
 most satisfactory state of things possible, and lighted 
 his pipe. 
 
 " Of course you 've no objection to make a fifty 
 pound note or so," asked Gorman. 
 
 " None in sh' wo'ld ; always," he became very
 
 236 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 earnest here, " always sh'posin' that I make it 
 honestly." 
 
 "Of course, of course," rejoined the other; "I 
 would never propose anything that would lead you 
 into a scrape. You don't suppose I would do that, 
 I hope?" 
 
 " Shertenly not," replied Ned with a smile ; " fire 
 away." 
 
 " Well, then, I 'm anxious just now to procure a 
 dead corpse." 
 
 Ned Hooper, drunk as he was, felt somewhat 
 startled by this, but, being a man of wandering and 
 lively imagination, turned from the point in question 
 to an idea suggested by it. 
 
 " I sh'pose a living corpse wouldn't do, would it ? 
 It must be a dead one eh ?" 
 
 " Be serious if you can," said Gorman angrily. " I 
 want a corpse." 
 
 Ned Hooper, who, like many good-humoured men, 
 was easily roused when in a state of intoxication, 
 fired at the tone of Gorman's voice, and looked at 
 him as sternly as he could, while he replied 
 
 " What have / got to do with yer wants an' yer 
 co'pses eh? You don't sh'pose I keep a stock of 
 'em on hand ready-made, do you eh ?" then relaps- 
 ing into a placid frame, he smiled, and added, " But 
 fire away, ol' feller, I'm yer man for conv'sashin, 
 specially w'en it 's in the comic line."
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 237 
 
 " That 's right," said Gorman, clapping Ned on the 
 shoulder and endeavouring to conciliate him ; " now, 
 then, the question is, how am I to get un?" 
 
 "Ah, thash the question, if Shakspr's to be 
 b'lieved." 
 
 " Well, but couldn't you think ?" said Gorman. 
 
 " Think !" exclaimed the other, "what am I paid 
 a salary for ? What are my brains doin' night an' 
 day^-eh ? Of course I can think ; thash 's my 
 pr'feshion is thinking." 
 
 Gorman cast a scornful look at his friend, but he 
 deemed it prudent to admit the truth of what he 
 said, and suggested that he might perhaps remember 
 a certain medical student with whom he had once 
 held pleasant converse in his (Gorman's) house of 
 entertainment. 
 
 " E'member him, of course," hiccuped Ned. 
 
 " Well, then, he could get us a corpse, you know, 
 couldn't he ?" 
 
 Ned looked uncommonly knowing at this point, 
 and admitted that he rather thought he could a 
 dozen of them, if necessary. 
 
 " Well, I want one, and I '11 pay well for it if it's 
 of the right sort. It must be at least six-foot two. 
 thin about the jaws, with lanky black hair, and a 
 yellow complexion." 
 
 Ned smiled facetiously, but at the same time 
 shook his head.
 
 238 FlOHflNG THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Six ft two," said he, " an't a common height ; 
 it won't be easy to get un so tall ; but but," he pon- 
 dered here with a grave expression of countenance, 
 " but it might be stretched a bit, you know eh ? As 
 to thin jaws, most of 'em is thin about sh jaws, an' 
 black hair ain't un-uncommon." 
 
 Ned yawned at this point, and looked very sleepy. 
 
 " Well, you '11 speak to him, won't you, and I '11 
 make it worth while for both of you ?" 
 
 " Oh yesh, 1 11 shpeak to him," said Ned, as his head 
 fell on the table and his senses utterly forsook him. 
 
 "Bah! you beast," muttered Gorman, casting a 
 glance of scorn on his friend as he rose to leave. 
 He had the sense, before going, to extinguish the 
 candle, lest Ned should overturn it and set the 
 house on fire ; not that he cared either for Ned or 
 the house, but as the former happened to be neces- 
 sary to him just then, he did not wish him to be 
 burned too soon. Then he went out, closing the 
 door softly after him. 
 
 Half-an-hour afterwards Ned's friend and fellow- 
 lodger, John Barret, entered the room, accompanied 
 by Fred Auberly. 
 
 " Come, Fred," said the former, " we can chat here 
 without interr hallo !" 
 
 " What's wrong?" inquired Fred, endeavouring to 
 make out objects by the feeble flicker of the fire, 
 while his friend struck a light
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 239 
 
 Barret did not reply, but the light soon revealed 
 Ned's disreputable figure half sprawling on and half 
 clinging to the table. 
 
 " Surely this is not your chum, John ?" asked Fred 
 in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, that 's him," answered Barret in a low sad 
 voice. " Help me to get him into bed, like a good 
 fellow." 
 
 ^Without a word the young men raised the drunken 
 figure in their arms, and laid it like some loathsome 
 object on one of the beds in the adjoining room. 
 
 " How can you stay with him ?" asked Auberly, 
 after they had returned to the other room and seated 
 themselves at the fire. 
 
 " He is an old school-fellow of mine," said Barret 
 in a low voice. " I 'm sorry you J ve seen him in this 
 state. He was a very different fellow once, I assure 
 you ; and if it were not for that accursed drink he 
 would be as pleasant a companion as exists. You 
 know I have no friends in London save yourself, 
 Fred, and this young fellow. I came to stay with 
 him at first, not knowing his character, and now I 
 remain to try to to save him ; but I fear his case 
 is hopeless. Come, Fred, we won't talk of it. You 
 were saying, as we came along, that your father is 
 sterner than ever, were you not ?" 
 
 " Ay," said Fred with a sigh, " he won't even let 
 me call to see my sistei Loo that 's the worst of it.
 
 240 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 For the rest I care not ; my brush has sustained me 
 hitherto, and my love for my profession increases 
 every hour. I feel towards it, John, as a man may 
 be supposed to feel towards the sweet, young girl 
 whom wicked guardians had for a long time refused 
 to let him wed. Nothing but death shall separate 
 us now 1" 
 
 Barret smiled and was about to make some re- 
 joinder, but he checked himself and changed the 
 subject. 
 
 " How is your sister ?" said he; " I have not heard 
 of her for a long time." 
 
 " Not well," answered Fred ; " the doctors shake 
 their heads and speak of the shock having been too 
 much for her. Dear Loo, she never was strong, and 
 I 'm afraid that she has received fatal injury on the 
 night of the fire. I 'm told that my poor father is 
 sadly cut up about her attends on her night and 
 day, and humours her every whim. This is so un- 
 like him that it fills me with anxiety on account of 
 dear Loo, whom I have not seen since I went to live 
 at Kensington." 
 
 " Kensington, Fred ? I did not know you had gone 
 to live there." 
 
 "I was just going to mention that when we 
 came in. I have got a very comfortable lodging 
 with who do you think ? you 11 never guess Mrs. 
 VVillders, the mother of our young friend Willie who
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 241 
 
 works with old Tom Tippet up- stairs. You may 
 well look surprised. I came upon the lodging quite 
 accidentally, and, finding that it suited my inclina- 
 tions and my purse, I took it at once for a few weeks. 
 It 's in a very poor locality, no doubt, but you know 
 a man must cut his coat according to his cloth, 
 and my cloth is not broad at present. But then," 
 continued Fred, with sudden animation, "it's a 
 spleficlid place for a painter ! There are such pic- 
 turesque regions and bits near it. Why, Kensington 
 Gardens are sufficient to make the fortune of a land- 
 scape-painter at least in the way of trees ; then an 
 hour's walk takes you to rural scenery, or canal 
 scenery, with, barges, bridges, boats, old stores, cot- 
 tages, etc. Oh! it's a magnificent spot, and I'm 
 hard at work on a picturesque old pump neai 
 Shepherd's Bush Common, with a bit of old brick 
 wall behind it half-covered with ivy, and a gipsy- 
 like beggar-girl drinking at it out of her hand ; that 
 that '11 make an impression, I think, on the Eoyal 
 Academy, if if they take it in." 
 
 " Ah ! if they take it in," said John Barret, smil- 
 ing. 
 
 " Well," retorted Fred Auberly, " I know that is 
 a point of uncertainty, and I 'm not very sanguine, 
 because there is great lack of room. Nevertheless, 
 I mean to send it. And you know, John, ' faint 
 heart never won fair lady,' so 
 Q
 
 242 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 At this point the conversation was interrupted by 
 a shrill whistle at the top of the house, which, as it 
 drew nearer, became identified with the air of Eule 
 Britannia. 
 
 " That 's Willie Willders," said Barret, laughing. 
 
 " I guessed as much, and with your leave I '11 call 
 him in. He knows of my having become an inmate 
 of his mother's house, and as he is probably going 
 home I would like to send a message to his mother. 
 Hallo! Willie." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir !" answered the youth, in the tones of 
 a throughbred seaman. Not that Willie had ever 
 been at sea, but he was so fond of seamen, and had 
 mingled with them so much at the docks, as well as 
 those of them who had become firemen, that he tried 
 to imitate their gait and tones. 
 
 " Come here, you scamp, and stop your noise." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," said Willie, with a grin, as he 
 entered the room cap in hand. 
 
 " Going home, lad ?" asked Fred. 
 
 " Yes, sir at least in a permiscuous sort of way ; 
 entertainin' myself as I goes with agreeable talk, 
 and improvin' obsarvation of the shop winders, 
 etceterrer." 
 
 " Will you take a message to your mother ?" 
 
 " Sure-Jy," answered Willie. 
 
 "Well, say to her that I have several calls to 
 make to-night and may be late in getting home, but
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 243 
 
 she need not sit up for me as I have the door-key ; 
 tell her not to forget to leave the door on the latch." 
 
 " Wery good, sir," said Willie. " May I make so 
 bold as to ask how Miss Loo was when you see'd her 
 last ?" 
 
 " Not well, I regret to say," replied Fred. 
 
 "Indeed! I'm surprised to hear that, for she's 
 agoin' out to tea to-morrow night, sir." 
 **"* My surprise is greater than yours, lad ; how d' you 
 know that, and where is she going to ?" asked Auberly, 
 
 Here Willie explained in a very elaborate manner 
 that a note had arrived that forenoon from Miss 
 Tippet, inviting Mr. Tippet to tea the following even- 
 ing, and expressing a hope that he would bring with 
 him his clerk, " Mister" Willders, the brother of the 
 brave fireman who had saved Loo's life, and that 
 Miss Louisa Auberly was to be there, and that Mr. 
 Tippet had written a note accepting the same. 
 
 " Then you '11 have to take another message from 
 me, Willie. Tell Miss Tippet when you go to- 
 morrow that I will give myself the pleasure of look- 
 ing in on her in the course of the evening," said 
 Fred. " Mr. Auberly is not to be there, is he ?" 
 
 " No, not as I knows of." 
 
 " Well, good-night, Willie." 
 
 Willie took his departure, marching to the usual 
 national air, and soon after Fred Auberly bade Ids 
 friend good-night and left him.
 
 CHAPTEK XXL 
 
 DESCRIBES A SMALL TEA-PARTY. 
 
 Miss TIPPET'S tea-party began by the arrival of 
 Willie Willders, who, being fond of society, and re- 
 gardless of fashion, understood his hostess literally 
 when she named her tea-hour ! For full half-an-hour, 
 therefore, he had the field to himself, and improved 
 the occasion by entertaining Miss Tippet and Emma 
 Ward with an account of the wonderful inventions 
 that emanated from the fertile brain of Mr. Thomas 
 Tippet. 
 
 Strange to say, a deep and lasting friendship had 
 sprung up between the eccentric old gentleman and 
 his volatile assistant. Willie sympathized so fully 
 with his master in his wild schemes, and displayed 
 withal such an aptitude for mechanical contrivance, 
 and such a ready appreciation of complex theories, 
 that Mr. Tippet soon came to forget his extreme 
 youth, and to converse with him, propound schemes 
 and new ideas to him, and even to ask his advice.
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 245 
 
 with as much seriousness as though he had been a 
 full-grown man. 
 
 This was of course very gratifying to Willie, who 
 repaid his master's condescension and kindness by 
 devoting himself heart and soul to the duties of what 
 he styled his " profession." He was a good deal put 
 out when his brother Frank asked him one day what 
 his "profession" was, and resolving never again to 
 htTplaced in such an awkward position of ignorance, 
 asked his employer what was the name of his busi- 
 ness, to which the employer replied that it had no 
 particular name ; but, on being urged by his assis- 
 tant to give it a name, he suggested that he might, if 
 so disposed, style himself a polyartist, which, ho 
 explained, meant an artist of many occupations. 
 Willie felt that this might be translated "jack-of- 
 all-trades," but on mature consideration he resolved 
 to adopt it, in the belief that few people would under- 
 stand what it meant, and that thereby he would be 
 invested with a halo of mystery, which was, upon 
 the whole, a gratifying reflection. 
 
 Gradually, however, Willie was led to diverge 
 from his employer to his brother Frank, in regard to 
 whom Miss Tippet entertained the strongest feelings 
 of admiration, because of his courageous conduct in 
 saving Louisa Auberly. Willie pursued this theme 
 all the more willingly that Emma appeared to be 
 deeply interested in it.
 
 246 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Emma Ward was very romantic in her nature ; 
 yet she had a keen appreciation of the ludicrous, 
 which caused her to appear somewhat light-headed 
 and giddy in the eyes of superficial observers; but she 
 possessed an underlying earnestness of soul, which 
 displayed itself in a thousand ways to those who 
 had much intercourse with her. She was an ardent 
 hero-worshipper ; and while Miss Tippet was her 
 heroine, Frank Willders was, at that time, her beau 
 idtal of a hero, although she only knew him from 
 description. 
 
 Willie was still in the middle of a glowing 
 account of a fire, in which Frank, and his friends 
 Dale and Baxmore, were the chief actors; and 
 Emma was listening with heightened colour, parted 
 lips, and sparkling eyes, when Matty Merryon 
 opened the door, and announced Mr. Tippet. 
 
 That gentleman was still in the act of shaking 
 his sister's hands with both of his, and kissing her 
 on both cheeks heartily, when Matty announced 
 Miss Deemas. 
 
 Matty, being Irish, allowed her soul to gush out too 
 obviously in her tones ; so that her feelings towards 
 the Eagle, though unexpressed, were discernible. 
 
 Miss Deemas strode up to Miss Tippet, and 
 pecked her on the right cheek, much as an eagle 
 might peck a tender rabbit, which it could slay and 
 devour if it chose, but which it preferred to spare
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 247 
 
 for a time. She was immediately introduced to 
 Mr. Tippet, whom she favoured with a stiff bow 
 intended to express armed neutrality in the mean- 
 time ; with a possibility, if not a probability, of 
 war in the future. The eccentric gentleman felt 
 chilled, but ventured to express an opinion in 
 regard to the weather, glancing for confirmation of 
 the same towards the window, through which he 
 najtrtrally enough expected to see the sky ; but was 
 baffled by only seeing the green Venetian blinds, 
 which ruled off the opposite houses in narrow 
 stripes. Before he had recovered himself to make 
 any further observation, Miss Deemas had attempted, 
 in a condescending way, to peck the cheek of Emma 
 Ward ; but that young lady, feeling disinclined, so 
 managed that she received the peck on her forehead. 
 
 On Willie, Miss Deemas bestowed a glance of 
 utter indifference, which Willie replied to with a 
 gaze of desperate defiance. 
 
 Then Miss Deemas seated herself on the sofa, 
 and asked her " dear friend" how she did, and how 
 she felt, and whether things in general were much 
 as usual ; from which elevated region of generalities 
 she gradually descended into the more particular 
 sphere of gossip and scandal 
 
 It is only just to Miss Tippet to say that the 
 Eagle did not find her a congenial bird of prey in 
 this region. On the contrary, she had to drag her
 
 248 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 unwilling friend down into it ; and as Miss Tippet 
 was too conscientious and kind-hearted to agree 
 with her in her sweeping censures and caustic 
 observations and wilful misconstructions, it is diffi- 
 cult to conceive wherein she (the Eagle) found 
 pleasure in her society. Probably it was because 
 she found in her one who would submit meekly to 
 any amount of contradiction, and listen patiently to 
 any amount of vituperative declamation. 
 
 " So it seems Mr. Auberly has disinherited and 
 dismissed his son, my dear," said Miss Deemas, 
 smoothing her dress with both hands, as though she 
 were about to lay Mr. Auberly in her lap, and 
 analyse him. 
 
 " I 'm sorry to say that it is too true, Julia," 
 answered Miss Tippet with a sigh. 
 
 " Ha ! it 's so like one of these creatures," said 
 Miss Deemas, pursing her thin lips; " so domineering, 
 so towering, in their pride of mere physical power." 
 
 Mr. Tippet glanced at the Eagle in surprise, not 
 being able to understand to what sort of " creatures" 
 she made reference. 
 
 " Poor Frederick," sighed Miss Tippet, " 1 don't 
 know what he '11 do (ring the bell, Emma, darling) ; 
 he 's such a bold, high-spirited young man, and it 's 
 all owing to his determination to take to to what's- 
 'is-name as a profession (bring the tea, Matty). It 's 
 very sad-"
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 249 
 
 " That must be a new sort of profession," observed 
 Miss Deemas pointedly. 
 
 " Oh ! I mean painting, you know. It 's impos- 
 sible to arrange one's things in such very correct 
 language, you know, dear Julia ; you are really too 
 oh ! did you hear of Joe Corney, the what 's-his 
 fireman's visit to Mrs. Denman? To be sure you 
 did ; I forgot it was in your house. It was such a 
 futmy account ; you heard of it, brother (ring the 
 bell again, dear), didn't you ?" 
 
 Mr. Tippet, whose wonted vivacity was quite 
 subdued by the freezing influence of the Eagle, said 
 that he had not heard of it ; whereupon Miss Tip- 
 pet said that she had heard of it, and so had Willie 
 Willders, who had heard of it from his brother Frank, 
 who had heard of it from Joe Corney himself; and 
 then she attempted to relate the matter, but failed 
 and finally asked Willie to tell the story, which 
 Willie did with much gusto ; looking at Miss Deemas 
 all the time, and speaking in a very positive tone, 
 as if he thought she was doubting every word he 
 said, and was resolved to hurl it in her teeth, 
 whether she chose to believe it or not. 
 
 " Capital ! " exclaimed Mr. Tippet, laughing heart- 
 ily, when Willie had concluded; "what an ener- 
 getic old lady she must be ! Keally. I must get 
 introduced to her, and show her the self-acting fire- 
 extinguisher I have just invented. You remeinbei
 
 250 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 it, Willie?" Willie nodded. "I've laid it aside 
 for some time ; but it is very nearly complete now 
 A little more work on it will finish it. My only 
 difficulty in regard to it is, madam," he addressed 
 himself to Miss Deemas here, "that it is apt to 
 burst, and I am uncertain whether or not to add a 
 safety-valve to prevent such a catastrophe, or to 
 make the metal so very strong, that nothing short 
 of gunpowder would burst it ; but then, you see, 
 that would make the whole affair too heavy. How- 
 ever, these are only minor difficulties of detail, 
 which a little thought will overcome." 
 
 Miss Deemas received all this with a sinister 
 smile, and replied with the single word, " Oh ! " 
 after which she turned immediately to Miss Tippet, 
 and remarked that the weather had been unusually 
 warm of late for the season of the year, which 
 remark so exasperated Willie Willders that he 
 turned with a face of crimson to Emma, and asked 
 her if she didn't feel a draught of cold air coming 
 over her from somewhere, and whether she would 
 not sit nearer the fire, and farther away from the 
 window ! 
 
 Willie meant this for an uncommonly severe cut ; 
 for Miss Deemas sat at the end of the sofa, near the 
 window ! 
 
 Fortunately, at this point, Matty Merryon ushered 
 in Loo Auberly, who was instantly enfolded in
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 251 
 
 Miss Tippet's arms, and thence transferred to 
 Emma's, in which she was led to the sofa, and 
 gently deposited in the softest corner. 
 
 " Darling Loo !" exclaimed Miss Tippet, with tears 
 in her eyes ; " you look so thin and pale." 
 
 There could be no doubt on that point. Little 
 Loo, as Emma styled her, was worn to a shadow by 
 sickness, which had hitherto baffled the doctor's 
 sktir But she was a beautiful shadow ; such a 
 sweet, gentle shadow, that one might feel thankful, 
 rather than otherwise, to be haunted by it. 
 
 " Pray don't mind me ; I'm too tired to speak to 
 you yet ; just go on talking. I like to listen," said 
 Loo softly. 
 
 With ready kindness, Miss Tippet at once sought 
 to draw attention from the child, by reverting to 
 Mrs. Denman ; and Matty created a little opportune 
 confusion by stumbling into the room with the 
 tea. 
 
 Matty usually tripped over the carpet at the door, 
 and never seemed to become wiser from experience. 
 
 " Poor Mrs. Denman," said Miss Tippet, pouring 
 out the tea ; " it must have been an awful shock ; 
 think of a (Sugar, brother ? I always forget), what 
 was I oh yes; think of a fireman seizing one 
 round the (Cream, Willie ? I know you have a sweet 
 tooth, so I don't need to ask if you take sugar). 
 Yes, he carried her down that dreadful what- d'ye-
 
 252 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 call-it, and into the next house with nothing (A 
 little more sugar, Julia ? No) nothing on but her 
 what 's-'is-name. Oh ! it was sad ; sad to lose 
 all her fine things too her furniture, and and 
 thingumies. Do try a piece of cake, brother." 
 
 "I know a worse case than hers," said Willie, 
 with a knowing look. 
 
 "Do you?" exclaimed Miss Tippet. 
 
 " Oh ! do tell it," cried Emina earnestly ; " he 'a 
 just been telling it to me, and it is so sad and inter- 
 esting." 
 
 "Come, let's hear about it, lad," said Mr. Tip 
 pet. 
 
 Thus encouraged, Willie related his adventure 
 with the clown's family, and told his tale with such 
 genuine feeling, that Miss Tippet, Loo, and Emma 
 found their eyes moist when he had concluded. 
 
 There was a good deal of comment upon this sub- 
 ject, and Miss Deemas animadverted very strongly 
 upon actors in general and clowns in particular. As 
 to ballet-girls, she could not find words to express 
 her contempt for them ; but in reference to this 
 Miss Tippet ventured to rebuke her friend, and to 
 say that although she could not and would not 
 defend the position of these unfortunates, yet she 
 felt that they were very much to be pitied, seeing 
 that they were in many cases trained to their pecu - 
 liarly indelicate life by their parents, and had been
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 253 
 
 taught to regard ballet- dancing as quite a proper 
 and legitimate what 's-its-name. No doubt this was 
 only a palliation of the life they led, but she thought 
 that if any one was to be severely blamed in the 
 matter it was the people who went to witness and 
 encourage such wicked displays. 
 
 Miss Deemas dissented generally from all her 
 friend's observations, and, wishing to change the 
 subject, asked Loo if her father was coming to fetch 
 her home. 
 
 " No," said Loo ; " dear papa is not well to-night, 
 but he is to send the carriage for me. Oh, I wish/' 
 she continued, reverting to the previous subject, " ] 
 wish I could do something for these poor people. 
 I 'm so very, very sorry for the fairy." 
 
 " So you can, if you choose," said Miss Deemas 
 sharply. 
 
 " No, indeed I cannot," replied Loo in an earnest 
 voice ; " I 'm too ill and weak now to be of any use 
 to any one. Once I was useful to dear papa, but 
 ever since the fire I have not been of use to any- 
 body ; only a hindrance to them. Since I have 
 been ill I have thought much more about what I 
 read in the Bible, and I 've had a great desire to do 
 good in some way or other, but how can I so weak 
 and helpless?" 
 
 Loo almost sobbed, for her sympathies had been 
 awakened by Willie, and a chord had been touched
 
 254 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 which had been vibrating in her breast for some 
 weeks past. 
 
 " Your father is rich, is he not ?" asked the 
 Eagle. 
 
 " Yes, I believe so." 
 
 " Well, a word to him may be the cause of much 
 good, in the shape of money at least, to people in 
 distress ; but rich people don't always like to spend 
 their money in that way." 
 
 Loo hung down her head and made no reply, for 
 she knew that her father did not like to part with 
 money. She had often heard him refuse to do so 
 in days gone by, even when very pathetic appeals 
 (as she thought) were made to him ; and experience 
 told her that it was in vain to look for help in that 
 quarter. 
 
 The party was now increased by the arrival of 
 Frederick Auberly, who at once infused life into 
 everybody, except Miss Deemas, who had life enough 
 of her own, and would by no means accept the loan 
 of any from any one else. Fred therefore ignored 
 her altogether, and told stories and cracked jokes 
 and sang songs as if no such female iceberg were 
 present. 
 
 Poor Loo was overjoyed to see him, and laying 
 her head on his breast, bade him speak away and 
 not ask questions; only speak, and allow her to 
 listen and rest.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 255 
 
 Fred obeyed, and at once began an earnest dis- 
 cussion with Willie as to the best method of getting 
 a stout gentleman out of a third-floor window in case 
 of fire, when Matty Merryon entered with a flushed 
 face and said that a fireman who would not give his 
 name wished to see Willie Willders for a minute ; 
 and she was inclined to think it was his brother. 
 
 "What! Frank?" exclaimed Willie, rising to go 
 dewn- stairs. 
 
 " Stay, Willie," cried Miss Tippet eagerly ; " don't 
 go down. Pray let me have him up ; I should so 
 like to see him, and I 'm sure so would Loo ; the 
 man, you know, who went up the what 's-its-name, 
 and brought you yes, send him up, Matty." 
 
 " Plaze, mini, he won't come," replied the girl ; " I 
 know'd ye would like to see him, an' axed him in." 
 
 "Tell him," said Miss Tippet, "that I request it 
 as a favour." 
 
 While Matty was delivering this message, the 
 Eagle took occasion to sniff once or twice in a con - 
 temptuous manner, and wondered why people wor- 
 shipped men just because they happened to be big, 
 and what they called handsome. For her part she 
 hated all men, but if she were to be obliged to choose 
 between any class (which she was thankful to say 
 was not necessary in her case), she would certainly 
 give the preference to ugly men and small 
 
 Willie Willders nodded his head approvingly,
 
 256 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 and, being exasperated into a savage serio-comic 
 condition, as well by the Eagle's voice and aspect as 
 by her sentiments, he said that she was quite right, 
 and that if he were a lady like her he would hold 
 the same opinions, because then, said he, "being 
 stout, I could wallop my husband an' keep him 
 down, an' the contrast of his ugly face with mine 
 would not be so obvious." 
 
 Frank's step on the stair fortunately prevented 
 this open and desperate attack being noticed. Next 
 moment all turned their eyes in breathless expecta- 
 tion towards the door. 
 
 Being on duty, Frank appeared in fireman's cos- 
 tume, with the sailor-like undress cap in his hand. 
 He bowed to the company, and apologized to Miss 
 Tippet for intruding, but he had wished to ask his 
 brother Willie to call at the fire-station on his way 
 home to convey a letter to his mother, and merely 
 meant to see him at the door. 
 
 "I'm very glad you came, Mr. Willders," said 
 Miss Tippet, " for I assure you we all regard you 
 as the preserver of our dear Miss Auberly's life, 
 when you went up the the thing. Here she is. 
 You must shake that's it so nice !" 
 
 The last part of Miss Tippet's remark referred to 
 Loo stretching out her hand to Frank, who advanced 
 promptly and shook it with great tenderness. He 
 then shook hands with Fred, who expressed liw
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 257 
 
 regard for him in warm terms ; also with Mr. 
 Tippet, who paid him some enthusiastic compli- 
 ments, and said something to the effect that the 
 parent stem from which two such branches as he 
 and Willie had grown must be a prime plant. 
 
 As he turned from Mr. Tippet who, being very 
 short, appeared to be looking up at a steeple while 
 he delivered this opinion Frank's eyes encoun- 
 tere^-those of Emma Ward, who was gazing at him 
 in such undisguised admiration, that, being a some- 
 what bashful man, he felt a little confused, and 
 dropt his eyes, figuratively, on the floor. Emma 
 blushed scarlet with shame at being caught in this 
 way, and thereafter became rigidly grave and in- 
 different 
 
 When Frank again raised his eyes which, by the 
 way, he did immediately they encountered the 
 eagle glance of Miss Deemas frowning defiance on 
 him, as being a sort of type or pattern specimen of 
 his highly objectionable race. Had Miss Deemas 
 been a man (which would have gratified her more 
 than she could have expressed) Frank could have 
 met the frown with a smile of pity. As it was, 
 he turned to the little eager countenance of Miss 
 Tippet, and felt deeper respect than ever for the 
 sex ; thus showing that just as an exception proves 
 a rule, so an unfavourable contrast strengthens a
 
 258 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Pray sit down, Mr. Willders," entreated Misa 
 Tippet earnestly ; " I should like so much to hear 
 how you did it from your own lips, and how you 
 can possibly venture up such dreadful things, just 
 like going up the outside of the Monument. Dear 
 Loo, and you came down it too ; but, to be sure, 
 your eyes were shut, which was as well, for you 
 were only in your night . Ah, well, yes, do sit 
 down, Mr. Firem Willders, I mean." 
 
 Frank thanked her, but declined, on the ground 
 that he was on duty, and that he feared he was 
 doing wrong in even looking in on them for the few 
 minutes he had stayed. " Good-night, ma'am," he 
 continued, " good-night. You '11 call at the station 
 on your way home, Willie ? " 
 
 Willie said he would, and then all the company, 
 excepting the Eagle, shook hands with the stalwart 
 fireman, looking up at him as if he were a hero 
 just returned from the proverbial " hundred fights." 
 Even Emma Ward condescended to shake hands 
 with him at parting. 
 
 " Perhaps you '11 be in the middle of a fire this 
 very night," cried Tom Tippet, following him to the 
 door. 
 
 " It is quite possible," said Frank, with a 
 smile. 
 
 Miss Deemas was heard to snort contemptuously 
 at. this,
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 259 
 
 " Perhaps you may even save more lives !" cried 
 Miss Tippet. 
 
 " It may be so," answered Frank, again smiling, 
 but evidently feeling anxious to make his escape, 
 for he was not one of those men who like to be 
 lionized. 
 
 " Only think ! " exclaimed Miss Tippet, as Frank 
 quitted the room. 
 
 'Ufa ! " ejaculated the Eagle, in a tone which 
 was meant to convey her well-known opinion that 
 women would do such things quite as well as men if 
 their muscles were a little stronger. 
 
 It is but justice to Miss Deemas to explain that 
 she did not champion and exalt women out of love 
 to her sex. Love was not one of her strong points. 
 Eampant indignation against those whom she bitterly 
 termed " lords of creation " was her strong tower of 
 refuge, in which she habitually dwelt, and from the 
 giddy summit of which she hurled would-be destruc- 
 tion on the doomed males below. Among her various 
 missiles she counted the "wrongs of her sex" the 
 most telling shaft, and was in consequence always 
 busy sharpening and polishing and flourishing this 
 dread weapon in the eyes of her friends as well as 
 her enemies, although, of course, she only launched 
 it at the latter. 
 
 Perched on her self- exalted eyry, Miss Deemas 
 did not know thafc there was a pretty large number
 
 260 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 of her own sex in the comparatively humble mul- 
 titude below, who, while they clearly recognised the 
 " wrongs of women " (and preferred to call them 
 "misfortunes"), did not attribute them solely, or 
 even largely, to the wickedness of men, but to the 
 combined wickedness and folly of society in general, 
 and who were of opinion that such matters were to 
 be put right by patient, persevering, laborious, and 
 persistent efforts on the part of men and women 
 acting in concert, and not by the unwomanly acts 
 and declamation of ladies of the Deemas stamp, 
 whom they counted the worst enemies of the good 
 cause some wittingly, others unwittingly so. These 
 people among the comparatively humble multitude 
 below, also had the penetration to perceive that the 
 so-called " wrongs " did not lie all on one side, but 
 that there was a pretty large class of the so-called 
 " lords " who went about the world habitually in a 
 sad and disgraceful state of moral semi-nakedness, 
 in consequence of their trousers having been appro- 
 priated and put on by their better-halves, and that 
 therefore it was only meet that men and women 
 should be united (as indeed they were from the first 
 intended to be) in their efforts to put each other's 
 '' wrongs " to " rights." 
 
 In addition to all this, these weak-minded (shall 
 we call them ?) people, moving in the comparatively 
 humble multitude below, entertained the belief that
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 261 
 
 rising in antagonism to the male sex in this matter 
 was not only unnecessary and unjust and impolitic, 
 but also ungenerous, for they reflected with much 
 calm satisfaction that the "lords" are, after all, 
 " under woman's control" 
 
 But Miss Deemas and all the ladies of the Eagle 
 stamp did not think so. They did not believe that 
 a strong mind means a mind strong enough to exer- 
 citeTits own powers to the ascertainment and recep- 
 tion of truth and the rejection of falsehood and 
 fallacy ; strong enough, under the influence of God's 
 love, to perceive the paths of duty in all their 
 ramifications, and to resolve to follow them. They 
 did not believe that a high spirit, in the true sense 
 of the word, meant a spirit broken down altogether 
 and brought into subjection to its owner's, not 
 another's, will. By no means. A strong mind with 
 the Deemas-eagles meant unutterable and unalter- 
 able obstinacy, blind as a bat, with the great guns 
 blazing all round, and the colours nailed to the mast. 
 High spirit with them meant the inclination ever 
 present, always strong, and often asserted to seize 
 all the rest of the world, male and female, and lead 
 it by the nose ! 
 
 The Deemas-eagles as a class receive ready-made 
 opinions, fabricated by some one else, and call them 
 their own receiving them originally and holding 
 them subsequently, not because they are true, but
 
 262 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 because they are pleasant to their eyes and sweet to 
 their taste. They hold them stoutly too, probably 
 because, having no foundation, they would be apt to 
 fall and get broken if not upheld. 
 
 Having said thus much in behalf of the Deemas- 
 eagles, we now dismiss them, with an apology to the 
 reader.
 
 CHAPTER XXIT. 
 
 O^fS* ANOTHER PHASE OF A FIREMAN'S LIFE, AND WINDS UP WITH 
 A CRASH. 
 
 THE clocks were striking nine when Frank issued 
 from Miss Tippet's dwelling and walked briskly 
 away. On turning a corner he came upon one of 
 the numerous fire-escapes that nightly rear their 
 tall heads against the houses all over London, in a 
 somewhat rampant way, as though they knew of the 
 fires that were about to take place, and, like mettle- 
 some war-horses, were anxious to rush into action 
 without delay. 
 
 On the pavement, close by the escape, stood a 
 small sentry-box, and the moment Frank came in 
 sight of it he remembered that it was the nocturnal 
 habitation of his friend conductor Samuel Forest. 
 Sam himself was leaning his arms on the lower half 
 of his divided door, and gazing contemplatively 
 along the street. 
 
 " Well, Sam, what news ? " inquired Frank as he 
 came up.
 
 264 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 "That you, Willders?" said Sam, a quiet smile of 
 recognition playing on his good-humoured features. 
 " I thought it must be the giant they 're exhibitin' 
 in St. James's Hall just now, takin' a stroll at night 
 to escape the boys. Why, when do you mean to 
 stop growing?" 
 
 "I don't mean to interfere with Nature at all," 
 replied Frank ; " and I believe the world will be big 
 enough to hold me whatever size I grow to." 
 
 " Well, what 's the news ?" inquired Sam, emerging 
 from his narrow residence, and proving in the act, 
 that, though not quite so tall as his friend, he was 
 one who required a pretty fair share of room in the 
 world for himself. 
 
 " Nothing particular," said Frank, leaning against 
 the escape ; " only a chimney and a cut-away affair 
 last night, and a false alarm and a first-floor burnt 
 out the day before." 
 
 " How 's Thompson ? " asked Forest. 
 
 " Poorly, I fear," said Frank, with a shake of his 
 head. " The sprained ankle he got when he fell off 
 the folding-board is getting well, but the injury to 
 his spine from the engine is more serious." 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow ! " said Forest, " he 's just a 
 little too reckless. How came he by the sprain ?" 
 
 " It was in the basement of a bookbinder's in 
 Littleton Street," said Frank, lighting a cigar. " We 
 got the call about 1 1 P.M., and on getting there found
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 265 
 
 three engines at work. Mr. Braidwood ordered our 
 fellows to go down into the basement. It was very 
 dark, and so thick of smoke that I couldn't see half- 
 an-inch before my nose. We broke through the 
 windows, and found ourselves ankle-deep in water. 
 The engines had been at work flooding the place for 
 some time, and there was more water than we 
 expected ; but we had got on the folding-boards 
 without knowing it, an' before we knew where we 
 were, down went Thompson into water four feet 
 deep. I think myself some of the water-pipes had 
 burst. He rose gasping, and I caught him by the 
 collar and hauled him out. It was in trying to 
 recover himself when he fell that he got the sprain. 
 You've heard how he came by the other mishap ?" 
 
 " Yes ; it was gallopin' down Ludgate Hill 
 wasn't it ?" 
 
 "Ay; the engine went over a barrow, and the 
 jolt threw him off, and before he got up it was on 
 him. By good fortune it did not go over him ; it 
 only bruised his back ; but it 's worse than we 
 thought it would be, I fear." 
 
 "Ah! one never knows," said Forest gravely. 
 " There 's one man Jackson, now, only two weeks 
 ago he was up in a third floor in Lambeth, and had 
 brought down two women and a child, and was in 
 the back-rooms groping for more, when the floor 
 above gave way and came down on him. We all
 
 266 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 thought he was done for, but some of the beams had 
 got jammed, and not five minutes after he steps out 
 of a window all right only a scratch or two, not 
 worth mentioning ; yet that same man fell down a 
 flight of stairs at the same fire, with a boy on his 
 shoulder, and sprained his ankle so bad that he's 
 bin laid up for three weeks; but he saved the 
 boy." 
 
 " Ah ! it was worth the sprain," said Frank. 
 
 " It was," responded Forest. 
 
 "Well, good-night," said Frank, resuming his 
 walk. 
 
 Samuel Forest responded " good-night," and then, 
 getting into his box, sat down on its little seat, 
 which was warranted not to hold two, trimmed the 
 lamp that hung at his side ; and, pulling out a book 
 from a corner, began to peruse it. 
 
 Sam was of a literary turn of mind. He read a 
 great deal during his lonely watches, and used often 
 to say that some of his happiest hours were those 
 spent in the dead of night in his sentry-box. His 
 helmet hung on a peg beside him. His hatchet was 
 in his girdle, and a small cap covered his head. 
 Looking at him in his snug and brightly illuminated 
 little apartment, he appeared by contrast with the 
 surrounding darkness inexpressibly comfortable. 
 Nevertheless, Sam Forest could have told you that 
 appearances axe often deceptive, and that, no matter
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 267 
 
 how it looked, his box was but a cold habitation on 
 a biting December night. 
 
 While deeply immersed in his book, Sam heard 
 the sound of approaching footsteps, and pricked up 
 his ears. He was a good judge of such sounds. 
 As they drew near, he quietly took off his cap, put 
 on his helmet, and stepped from his box. The 
 street was very silent ; and, perhaps, not one of the 
 huBcfreds of sleepers there, thought of the solitary 
 man who held vigil, and was so alert to do them 
 service, if the hour of their extremity should coma 
 
 But a cry arose that startled them 
 
 " Fire ! fire ! ! " 
 
 Another moment, and two men dashed round the 
 corner, yelling at the top of their voices. Gasping 
 for breath they named the locality. Almost before 
 they had done so, two policemen were on the spot, 
 and in another moment the fire-escape was in motion. 
 Instructed by the conductor, the two strangers and 
 the policemen lent their willing aid. Before ten 
 minutes had passed, the tall machine was run up to 
 a burning house, the lower part of which was blaz- 
 ing; while, from the upper windows, frantic cries 
 were heard for help, and sundry figures in dishabille 
 were seen waving their arms. The escape was run 
 up, and one after another the inmates were rescued 
 from their perilous position. 
 
 While this scene was enacting Frank was pursu-
 
 268 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 ing his way to the Regent Street Fire Station ; but 
 news of the fire got there before him. He arrived 
 just in time to don his helmet and take his place 
 on the engine. Away they went, and in ten minutes 
 after the arrival of the fire-escape, they dashed up, 
 almost running into an engine which appeared from 
 an opposite direction. 
 
 The fire was blazing brightly by this time, and 
 the whole neighbourhood was in a state of commo- 
 tion and excitement. 
 
 The two engines were got to work with as little 
 delay as possible. A body of police kept the 
 gathering crowd back, and soon volumes of steam 
 began to mingle with the black smoke of the burn- 
 ing building. The superintendent was early on the 
 scene, and he directed Frank and another fireman to 
 try to persuade the people in the adjoining houses 
 to remain quiet, and not throw their furniture over 
 the window ; but this, some of them would not 
 consent to do. It was plain that one or two were 
 mad with fear and excitement; and as the ruling 
 passion is strong in death, so it would seem to be 
 by no means weak in the midst of "danger from fire ; 
 for many of them bent their whole energies to the 
 saving of their goods and chattels regardless of 
 their lives ! 
 
 One stout old gentleman, in particular, was seen 
 at a third-floor window, heaving out chairs and
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 269 
 
 stools, and books, aud small tables, and clocks, and 
 even quantities of crockery, with desperate energy, 
 to the great danger of the onlookers, at whose feet 
 the various articles fell, and were dashed to atoms ! 
 
 Frank darted up the stair that led to this man's 
 apartments, and burst in upon him, 
 
 " Oh ! come along, fireman ; help me to save my 
 things," he exclaimed, as he struggled with super - 
 hunran efforts to thrust a table through the window, 
 which was too small to permit its passage. 
 
 " Stop, sir, are you mad ! " cried Frank sternly. 
 
 " Help me ! help me ! Oh ! fireman, it will be 
 all burned. Fire ! fire !! fire !! !" 
 
 His voice rose into a fierce yell, as he strove in 
 vain with the table. 
 
 "You're quite safe," cried Frank, holding him; 
 * your house ain't alight, and the engines have got it 
 almost under." 
 
 But Frank spoke to deaf ears ; so he coolly lifted 
 the man in his arms, carried him kicking down- 
 stairs, and placed him in charge of a policeman. 
 
 Just then, a cry was raised that there were twc 
 kegs of gunpowder in one of the shops on the 
 ground floor. The owner of the shop came up in 
 a frantic state, and corroborated this statement. 
 
 " It 11 blow the house to bits, sir," he said to Mr 
 Braidwood. 
 
 " Of course it will," remarked the latter in a quit*
 
 270 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 voice. " Come here, my man," he added, taking the 
 shopkeeper apart from the crowd, and questioning 
 him closely. 
 
 Immediately after, he ordered the engines to play 
 on a particular part of the building. 
 
 Just then, Frank came up to the superintendent. 
 
 " There 's gunpowder in the back-shop somewhere, 
 I 'm told, sir ; shall I go in for it ?" 
 
 " No, Willders ; ye couldn't find it in the smoke. 
 Take the branch, lad, and get up into that window 
 above the door." 
 
 Frank sprang to obey. At the same time, Mr. 
 Braidwood suddenly seized a horse-cloth, and dashed 
 in through the smoke. In a few seconds, he 
 returned with one of the kegs of powder in his 
 arms. Giving it to one of his men, he darted in 
 again, and speedily re-issued with the second keg of 
 powder, amid the frantic cheering of the crowd. 
 Having done this, he continued to superintend the 
 men until the fire was got under, which was soon 
 accomplished, having been attacked promptly and 
 with great vigour soon after it broke out. 
 
 " You needn't wait, Mr. Dale," said Braidwood, 
 going up to his foreman. " It 's all safe now. 1 11 
 keep one engine ; but you and your lads get off to 
 your beds as fast as ye can." 
 
 Dale obeyed, and a few minutes after, the engine 
 was galloping homewards.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 271 
 
 Willie Willders was in the station when it 
 arrived, and so was Fred Auberly who having ac- 
 companied Willie had got into such an interesting 
 talk with the sub-engineer in charge, that he forgot 
 time, and was still in animated conversation when 
 the wheels were heard in the distance. 
 
 The three were out at the door in an instant. 
 
 On came the engine, the horses' feet and the 
 wbe&ls crashing harshly in the silent night. They 
 came round the corner with a sharp swing. Either 
 the driver had become careless, or he was very 
 sleepy that night, for he dashed against an iron 
 post that stood at the corner, and carried off two 
 wheels. The engine went full thirty yards on the 
 two off-wheels, before it came to the ground, which 
 it did at last with a terrible crash, throwing the 
 firemen violently to the ground. 
 
 The sub-engineer and Fred and Willie sprang 
 forward in great alarm ; but the most of the men 
 leaped up at once, and one or two of them laughed, 
 as if to show that they had got no damage. But 
 one of them lay extended on the pavement. It 
 needed not a second glance to tell that it was 
 Frank Willders. 
 
 " Lift him gently, lads," said Dale, who was him- 
 self severely bruised. 
 
 " Stop," exclaimed Frank in a low voice ; " I 've 
 got no harm except to my left leg. It 's broken, I
 
 272 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 think. There 's no use of lifting me till you get a 
 cab. 1 '11 go straight home, if" 
 
 He fainted as he spoke. 
 
 " Bun for a cab, Willie," said Fred Auberly. 
 
 Willie was off in a moment. At the same 
 instant, a messenger was despatched for Dr. Offley, 
 and in a short time after that, Frank Willders was 
 lying on his mother's sofa, with his left leg broken 
 below the knee.
 
 CHAPTEK XXIII. 
 
 OK WfflCH MR. JAMES AUBERLY COMES OUT IN SEVERAL ENTIRELY NEW 
 CHARACTERS. 
 
 WITH a very stiff cravat, and a dreadfully stiff 
 back, and a painfully stiff aspect, Mr. James Auberly 
 sat by the side of a couch and nursed his sick child 
 
 Stiff and starched and stern though he was, Mr. 
 Auberly had a soft point in his nature, and this 
 point had been reached at last ; for through all the 
 stiffness and starch there shone on his countenance 
 an expression of deep anxiety as he gazed at Loo's 
 emaciated form. 
 
 Mr. Auberly performed the duties of a nurse 
 awkwardly enough, not being accustomed to such 
 work, but he did them with care and with an evident 
 effort to please, which made a deep impression on 
 the child's heart. 
 
 " Dear papa," she said, after he had given her a 
 
 drink and arranged her coverings, "I want you to 
 
 do me a favour." She said this timidly, for she 
 
 knew from past experience that her father was not 
 
 s
 
 274 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 fond of granting favours, but since her illness he 
 had been so kind to her that she felt emboldened to 
 make her request. 
 
 " I will do it, dear," said the stiff man, bending, 
 morally as well as physically, as he had never bent 
 before for the prospect of Loo's death had been 
 presented to him by the physicians. " I will do it, 
 dear, if I can, and if the request be reasonable." 
 
 "Oh then, do forgive Fred, and let him be an 
 artist !" cried Loo, eagerly stretching out one of her 
 thin hands. 
 
 " Hush, darling," said Mr. Auberly with a look of 
 distress ; " you must not excite yourself so. I have 
 forgiven Fred long ago, and he has become an artist 
 in spite of my objections." 
 
 " Yes, but let him come home, I mean, and be 
 happy with us again as he used to be, and go to the 
 office with you," said Loo. 
 
 Mr. Aiiberly replied somewhat coldly to this that 
 Fred was welcome to return home if he chose, but 
 that his place in the office had been filled up. Besides, 
 it was impossible for him to be both a painter 
 and a man of business, he said, and added that Loo 
 had better not talk about such things, because she 
 did not understand them. All he could say was 
 that he was willing to receive Fred if Fred was 
 willing to return. He did not say, however, that he 
 was willing to restore Fred to his former position
 
 THE LONDON FIJRE BRIGADE. 275 
 
 in regard to his fortune, and as Loo knew nothing 
 about her brother having been disinherited, she felt 
 that she must be satisfied with this cold concession. 
 
 " Can you not ask some other favour, such as I 
 could grant ?" said Mr. Auberly, with a smile, which 
 was not nearly so grim as it used to be before the 
 " fire." (The family always talked of the burning of 
 Mr^Auberly's house as " the fire," to the utter repu- 
 diation of all other fires the great one of monu- 
 mental fame included.) 
 
 Loo meditated some time before replying. 
 
 " Oh yes," she exclaimed suddenly, " I have an- 
 other favour to ask. How stupid of me to forget it ! 1 
 want you very much to go and see a fairy that lives " 
 
 " A fairy, Loo !" said Mr. Auberly, while a shade 
 of anxiety crossed his face. " You you are rather 
 weak just now ; I must make you be quiet, and try 
 to sleep if you talk nonsense, dear." 
 
 " It 's not nonsense," said Loo, again stretching out 
 the thin hand, which her father grasped, replaced 
 under the coverings, and held there ; "it's quite true, 
 papa," she continued energetically ; " it is a fairy I 
 want you to go and see she 's a pantomime fairy, 
 and lives somewhere near London Bridge, and she 's 
 been very ill, and is so poor that they say she's 
 dying for want of good food." 
 
 " Who told yon about her, Loo ?" 
 
 "Willie Willders," she replied; "he has been to
 
 276 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 see her and her father the clown a good many 
 times." 
 
 Mr. Auberly frowned, for the name of Willie 
 Willders did not sound pleasantly in his ears. 
 
 " Do go to see her, pray, dear papa," pleaded Loo 
 with much earnestness, " and give her some money. 
 You know that darling mamma said, just before she 
 was taken away" (the poor child persistently refused 
 to use the expression " when she died"), "she wanted 
 you to take me sometimes to see poor people when 
 they were sick, and I Ve often thought of that since 
 especially when I have come to the verse in my 
 Bible which tells me to ' consider the poor,' and I 
 have often oh, so very often longed to go, but you 
 were always so busy, dear papa, that you never had 
 cime, you know" (the stiff man winced a little at 
 this) ; " but you seem to have more time now, papa, 
 and although I 'm too weak to go with you, I thought 
 I would ask you to go to see this poor fairy, and tell 
 her I will go to see her some day if if God makes 
 me strong again." 
 
 The stiff man winced still more at this, but it was 
 only a momentary wince, such as a man gives when 
 he gets a sudden and severe twinge of toothache. It 
 instantly passed away. Still, as in the case of tooth- 
 ache, it left behind an uneasy impression that there 
 might be something very sharp and difficult to bear 
 looming in the not distant future.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 277 
 
 Mr. Auberly had covered his face with his hand, 
 and leant his elbow on the head of the couch. 
 Looking up quickly with a smile still tinged with 
 grimness, for evil habits and their results are not to 
 be got rid of in a day he said 
 
 " Well, Loo, I will go to see this fairy if it will 
 please you; but somewhere near London Bridge is 
 not a very definite address." 
 
 *~0h, but Willie Winders knows it," said Loo. 
 
 "But where is Willie Willders?" objected her 
 father. 
 
 "Perhaps at home; perhaps at Mr. Tippet's 
 place." 
 
 " Well, we shall soon find out," said Mr. Auberly, 
 rising and ringing the bell 
 
 Hopkins answered the summons. 
 
 Stiff, thin, tall, sedate, powdered, superfine Hop- 
 kins, how different from the personage we saw but 
 Lately plunging like a maniac at the fire- bell I Could 
 it have been thee, Hopkins? Is it possible that 
 anything so spruce, dignified, almost stately, could 
 have fallen so very low ? We fear it is too true, for 
 human nature not unfrequently furnishes instances 
 of tremendous contrast, just as material nature some- 
 times furnishes the spectacle of the serene summer 
 sky being engulfed in the black thunderstorm 1 
 
 " Hopkins," said Mr. Auberly, handing him a slip 
 of paper, " go to this address and ask for the boy
 
 278 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 William Willders ; if he is there, bring him here 
 immediately ; if not, find out where he is, search for 
 him and bring him here without delay. Take a cab." 
 
 Hopkins folded the paper delicately, with both 
 his little fingers projecting very much, as though 
 they wished it to be distinctly understood that they 
 had no connexion whatever with the others, and 
 would not on any account assist the low-born and 
 hard-working forefingers and thumbs in such menial 
 employment. Hopkins's nose appeared to be affected 
 with something of the same spirit. Then Hopkins 
 bowed that is to say, he broke across suddenly at 
 the middle, causing his stiff upper man to form an 
 obtuse angle with his rigid legs for one moment, 
 recovered his perpendicular, and retired 
 
 Oh ! Hopkins, how difficult to believe that thy 
 back was once as round as a hoop and thy legs bent 
 at acute angles while thou didst lay violent hands 
 on well, well ; let bygones be bygones, and let us, 
 all in kindness to thee, learn the song which says 
 " Teach, O teach me to forget." 
 
 Hailing a cab with the air of six emperors rolled 
 into one, Hopkins drove to Mr. Tippet's residence, 
 where he learned that Willie had gone home, so he 
 followed him up, and soon found himself at Notting- 
 hill before the door of Mrs. Willders' humble abode. 
 The door was opened by Willie himself, who stared 
 in some surprise at the stately visitor.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 279 
 
 " Is William Willders at 'ome ?" said Hopkins. 
 
 " I rather think he is," replied Willie, with a grin ; 
 "who shall I say calls on him eh? You better 
 send up your card." 
 
 Hopkins frowned, but, being a good-natured man, 
 he immediately smiled, and said he would walk in. 
 
 "I think," said Willie, interposing his small 
 person in the way, " that you 'd as well stop where 
 you are, for there 's a invalid in the drawing-room, 
 and all the other rooms is engaged 'cept the kitchen, 
 which of course I could not show you into. Couldn't 
 you deliver your message ? I could manage to carry 
 it if it ain't too heavy." 
 
 In a state of uncertainty as to how far this was 
 consistent with his dignity, Hopkins hesitated for a 
 moment, but at length delivered his message, with 
 which Willie returned to the parlour. 
 
 Here, on the little sofa, lay the tall form of 
 Frank Willders, arrayed in an old dressing-gown, 
 and with one of his legs bandaged up and motion- 
 less. His face was pale, and he was suffering great 
 pain, but a free-and-easy smile was on his lips, for 
 beside him sat a lady and a young girl, the latter of 
 whom was afflicted with strong sympathy, but ap- 
 peared afraid to show it. Mrs. Willders, with a 
 stocking and knitting- wires in her hands, sat on a 
 ehair at the head of the bed, looking anxious, but 
 hopeful and mild. An open Bible which lay on a
 
 280 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 small table at her side showed how she had been 
 engaged before the visitors entered. 
 
 " My good sir," said the lady, with much earnest- 
 ness of voice and manner, " I assure you it grieves 
 me to the heart to see you lying in this state, and 
 I 'm quite sure it grieves Emma too, and all your 
 friends. When I think of the risks you run and the 
 way you dash up these dreadful fire fire things 
 what-d' ye-callums. What do you call them ?" 
 
 "Fire-escapes, ma'am," answered Frank, with a 
 smile. 
 
 " Ah, fire-escapes (how you ever come down them 
 alive is a mystery to me, I 'm sure !) But, as I was 
 saying, it makes one shudder to think of ; and and 
 how does your leg feel now ?" said Miss Tippet, 
 forgetting what she had intended to say. 
 
 " Pretty well," replied Frank ; " the doctor tells 
 me it has broken without splintering, and that I '11 
 be all right in a few weeks, and fit for duty again." 
 
 " Fit for duty, young man ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Tippet ; " do you mean to say that you will return 
 to your dreadful profession when you recover? 
 Have you not received warning enough ?" 
 
 "Why, madam," said Frank, "some one must 
 look after the fires, you know, else London would 
 be in ashes in a few months ; and I like the 
 work." 
 
 " Like the work !" cried Miss Tippet, in amaze-
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 281 
 
 tnent; "like to be almost smoked to death, and 
 burned alive, and tumbled off roofs, and get upset 
 off what 's-its-names, and fall down fire fire 
 things, and break all your legs and arms !" 
 
 Well no, I don't like all that," said Frank, 
 laughing; "but I like the vigour and energy that 
 afe "called forth in the work, and I like the object 
 of the work, which is to save life and property. 
 Why," exclaimed Frank enthusiastically, "it has 
 all the danger and excitement of a soldier's life 
 without the bloody work, and with better ends in 
 view." 
 
 " Nay, nay, Frank," said the peaceful Mrs. Will- 
 ders, "you must not say 'better ends/ because it 
 is a great and glorious thing to defend one's native 
 land." 
 
 "A very just observation," said Miss Tippet, 
 nodding approval. 
 
 " Why, mother, who would have expected to hear 
 you standing up for the red-coats in this fashion?" 
 said Frank. 
 
 "I stand up for the blue-jackets too," observed 
 Mrs. Willders meekly ; " they fight for their country 
 as well" 
 
 " True, mother," rejoined Frank ; " but I did not 
 refer to ultimate ends, I only thought of the imme- 
 diate results in connexion with those engaged. The 
 warrior fights, and, in so doing, destroys life and
 
 282 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 property. The fireman fights, and in doing so pro- 
 tects and preserves both." 
 
 " Hear ! hear !" interrupted Willie ; " but the 
 copy-book says ' Comparisons are odiows /' don't it ? 
 Mother, here's a fathom and two inches or so of 
 humanity as wants me to go with him to Mr. 
 Auberly. I s'pose Frank can get along without me 
 for a little while eh ?" 
 
 " Certainly, my son ; why does he want you ?" 
 
 " Don't know. Pr'aps he 's goin* to offer to 
 make me his secretary. But you don't seem at 
 all alarmed at the prospect of my being carried off 
 by a flunkey." 
 
 " You 11 come back, dearie, I doubt not." 
 
 " Don't you ? Oh, very well ; then I '11 just look 
 after myself. If I don't return, I '11 advertise my- 
 self in the Times. Good-bye." 
 
 Willie returned to the door and announced that 
 he was ready to go. 
 
 "But where is William ?" asked Hopkins. 
 
 " Mister William Willders stands before you," said 
 the boy, placing his hand on his heart and making 
 a bow. " Come now, Long-legs," he added, seizing 
 Hopkins by the arm and pushing him down-stairs 
 and into the cab. Leaping in after him he shut the 
 door with a bang. "Now, then, cabby, all right, 
 Beverly Square, full split ; sixpence extra if you dc 
 it within the half!"
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 283 
 
 Away they went, and in a few seconds were in 
 che Mall driving at a rattling pace. 
 
 "See that house?" asked Willie, so suddenly as 
 to startle Hopkins, who was quite overwhelmed by 
 the vigour and energy of his young companion. 
 
 " Eh ! which ! the one with the porch before the 
 ddbr?" 
 
 " No, no, stoopid 1 the old red brick house with 
 the limbs of a vine all over the front of it, and the 
 skeleton of a Virginia creeper on the wall." 
 
 " Yes, I see it," said Hopkins, looking out. 
 
 " Ah, a friend o' mine lives there. I 'm on wisitin' 
 terms there, I am. Now then, mind your eye, 
 pump-handle," cried Willie ; " the turn 's rather 
 sharp hallo !" 
 
 As they swung round into the Bayswater Eoad 
 the cab came in contact with a butcher's cart, which, 
 being the lighter vehicle, was nearly upset. No 
 serious damage resulted however, and soon after 
 they drew up at the door of the house next Mr. 
 Auberly's; for that gentleman still occupied the 
 residence of his friend. 
 
 "Master Willders," said Hopkins, ushering him 
 into the presence of Mr. Auberly, who still sat at 
 the head of the couch. 
 
 Willie nodded to Loo and then to her father. 
 
 " Boy," said the latter, beckoning Willie to ap- 
 proach, " my daughter wishes me to go and visit a
 
 284 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 poor family near London Bridge. She tells me you 
 know their name and address." 
 
 " The fairy, you know," said Loo, explaining. 
 
 " Ah, the Cattleys," answered Willie. 
 
 " Yes," resumed Mr. Auberly. " Will you con- 
 duct me to their abode I" 
 
 In some surprise Willie said that he would be 
 happy to do so, and then asked Loo how she did. 
 
 While Mr. Auberly was getting ready, Willie was 
 permitted to converse with Loo and Mrs. Rose, who 
 was summoned to attend her young mistress. Pre- 
 sently Mr. Auberly returned, bade Mrs. Eose be 
 very careful of the invalid, and then set off with 
 Willie. 
 
 At first the boy felt somewhat awed by the remark- 
 ably upright figure that stalked in silence at his 
 side, but as they continued to thread their way 
 through the streets he ventured to attempt a little 
 conversation. 
 
 " Weather 's improving sir," said Willie, looking up. 
 
 " It is," replied Mr. Auberly, looking down in 
 surprise at the boldness of his small guide. 
 
 " Good for the country, sir," observed Willie. 
 
 Mr. Auberly being utterly ignorant of rural mat- 
 ters thought it best to say nothing to this. 
 
 We may add that Willie knew just as little (or 
 as much), and had only ventured the remark be- 
 cause he had often heard it made in every possible
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 285 
 
 variety of weather, and thought that it would be a 
 safe observation, replete, for all he knew to the con- 
 trary, with hidden wisdom. 
 
 There was silence after this for some time. 
 
 "D' you know Mr. Tippet well, sir?" inquired 
 Willie suddenly. 
 
 *"Te yes ; oh yes, I know him pretty well" 
 
 "Ah, he's a first-rater," observed Willie, with a 
 look of enthusiasm; "you've no notion what a 
 trump he is. Did you ever hear of his noo machine 
 for makin' artificial butter ?" 
 
 " No," said Mr. Auberly, somewhat impatiently. 
 
 "Ah, it's a wonderful invention, that is, sir." 
 
 " Boy," said Mr. Auberly, " will you be so good as 
 to walk behind me?" 
 
 "Oh, cer'nly, sir," said Willie, with a profound bow, 
 as he fell to the rear. 
 
 They walked on in silence until they came to the 
 vicinity of the Monument, when Mr. Auberly turned 
 round and asked Willie which way they were to go 
 now. 
 
 " Right back again," said Willie. 
 
 " How, boy ; what do you mean ?' 
 
 " We've overshot the mark about half a mile, sir. 
 But, please, I thought you must be wishin' to go 
 somewhere else first, as you lead the way." 
 
 " Lead the way, now, boy," said Mr. Auberly. with 
 a stern look.
 
 286 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Willie obeyed, and in a few minutes they were 
 groping in the dark regions underground which Mr. 
 Cattley and his family inhabited. With some diffi- 
 culty they found the door, and stood in the presence 
 of " the fairy." 
 
 Thin though the fairy had been when Willie saw 
 her last, she might have been called fat compared 
 with the condition in which they now found her. 
 She appeared like a mere shadow, with a delicate 
 skin thrown over it. A bad transparency would 
 have been more substantial in appearance. She lay 
 alone on her lonely pallet with a farthing candle 
 beside her, which cast a light sufficient only to make 
 darkness visible. Being near the poor invalid, it 
 caused her large dark eyes to glitter in an awful 
 manner. 
 
 Willie at once forgot his companion, and running 
 up to the fairy, seized her hand, and asked her how 
 she did. 
 
 " Pretty well, Willie. It 's kind of you to come 
 and see me so often." 
 
 " Not a bit, Ziza ; you know I like it ; besides. 
 I've only come to-day to show a gentleman the 
 way." 
 
 He pointed to Mr. Auberly, who had stopped 
 short in the doorway, but who now advanced and 
 sat down beside the invalid, and put to her several 
 formal questions in a very stately and stiff manner,
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 287 
 
 with a great assumption of patronage. But it was 
 evident that he was not accustomed to the duty of 
 visiting the sick, and, like little boys and girls when 
 they sit down to write a letter, was very much at a 
 loss what to say ! He began by asking the fairy 
 about her complaint, and exhausted every point that 
 entered into his imagination in reference to that. 
 Then he questioned her as to her circumstances; 
 after which he told her that he had been sent to see 
 her by his daughter Louisa, who was herself very ill, 
 owing to the effects of a fire in his own house. 
 
 At this point the child became interested, and 
 came to his relief by asking a great many eager and 
 earnest questions about Loo. She knew about the 
 fire in Beverly Square and its incidents, Willie 
 having often related them to her during his visits ; 
 and she knew Mr. Auberly by name, and was in- 
 terested in him, but his frigid manner had repelled 
 her, until he spoke of Loo having sent him to see 
 her. 
 
 " Oh, I Ve been so sorry about Miss Loo, sir," said 
 Ziza, raising her large eyes full in Mr. Auberly's 
 face ; " I Ve heard of her, you know, from Willie, 
 and when I Ve been lying all alone here for hours 
 and hours together, I have wondered how she spent 
 her time, and if there were kind people about her to 
 keep up her spirits. It 'a so strange that she and I 
 should have been both hurt by a fire, an' both of u?
 
 2b8 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 so different every way. I do hope she '11 get better, 
 sir." 
 
 Mr. Auberly became suddenly much interested in 
 the fairy, for just as "love begets love," so does 
 interest beget interest. His feelings having been 
 roused, his tongue was loosed, and forthwith he 
 enjoyed a delightful conversation with the intelli- 
 gent child ; not that there was any remarkable change 
 as to the matter of what was spoken, but there was 
 a vast change in the manner of speaking it. 
 
 Willie also chimed in now and then, and volun- 
 teered his opinions in a way that would have called 
 forth a sharp rebuke from his patron half-an-hour 
 before; but he was permitted to speak, even en- 
 couraged, now, for Mr. Auberly was being tickled 
 pleasantly ; he was having his feelings and affections 
 roused in a way that he had never thought of or 
 tried before ; he was gathering golden experiences 
 that he had never stooped to touch before, although 
 the mine had been under his feet all his life, and his 
 path had been strewn with neglected nuggets from 
 the cradle fortunately not, as yet, to the grave ! 
 
 Ziza's Bible lay on the counterpane close to her 
 wasted little hand. While she was talking of Loo, 
 with deep sympathy beaming out of her eyes and 
 trembling in her tones, Mr. Auberly laid his hand 
 inadvertently on it. She observed the action, and 
 said
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 289 
 
 " Are you going to read and pray with me, sir ?" 
 
 Mr. Auberly was taken very much aback indeed 
 by this question. 
 
 " Well no," said he, " that is if in fact, I have 
 not brought my prayer-book with me ; but but 
 I will read to you if you wish it." 
 
 Sympathy was gone now ; the fairy felt that, and, 
 not clearly understanding why, wondered at it. She 
 thanked her visitor, however, and shut her eyes, 
 while Mr. Auberly opened the Bible and cleared his 
 voice. His confusion was only momentary ; still 
 the idea that he could be confused at all by two 
 mere children in such a wretched cellar so nettled 
 the worthy man, that he not only recovered his self- 
 possession, but read a chapter with all the solemn 
 dignity of tone and manner that he would have 
 assumed had he been officiating in St. Paul's or 
 Westminster Abbey. This was such a successful 
 essay, and overawed his little congregation so terribly, 
 that for a moment he thought of concluding with 
 the benediction ; but, being uncertain whether he 
 could go correctly through it, he wisely refrained. 
 
 Thereafter he rose and bade the fairy good- 
 night. 
 
 " Your father does not return till late, I suppose ?" 
 he said, while he held her hand. 
 
 " No ; it is morning generally before he gets away. 
 The pantomimes are hurting him, I fear, for he's 
 T
 
 290 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALK OF 
 
 not so active as he once was, and he says he feels 
 the falls very bad." 
 
 " Poor man ! It 's very sad ; but I suppose it 's 
 the usual way with that class of men. Well, good- 
 night again. 
 
 " Good-night, sir ! " responded the fairy, with a 
 bright smile, " and thank you very much for your 
 visit. Good-night, Willie." 
 
 Willie said good-night in such a sulky tone, and 
 followed Mr. Auberly to the door with such a reck- 
 less swagger, that the fairy gazed after him in un- 
 utterable surprise. After shutting the door with a 
 bang, he suddenly opened it again, and said in a loud 
 voice 
 
 " I say, I '11 get my wages day arter to-morrow. 
 I '11 bring you a couple o' bobs then. It 's all I can 
 afford just now, for cigars are dear. If you're hard 
 up for wittles in the meantime, just grin and bear 
 it ; you '11 not die, you know, you '11 only get thinner. 
 I have heard that a bit o' boiled shoe-leather ain't a 
 bad thing to keep one easy till relief comes." 
 
 "Dear me !" exclaimed Mr. Auberly in the dis- 
 tance, and bustling back as he spoke ; " I quite 
 forgot ; how stupid of me ! I was directed by my 
 daughter to give you this." 
 
 He took a ten-pound note from his purse, and put 
 it into the fairy's hand. 
 
 " This is from Louisa," he continued, " and 1 may
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 291 
 
 add that it is the savings from her pocket-money. 
 I did not wish the dear child to part with it, and 
 said I would give it to you from myself ; but she 
 was so urgent, and seemed so distressed when I 
 refused my consent, that I gave in ; so you have to 
 thank my daughter, not me." 
 
 $Er. Auberly smiled and 'nodded as he turned to 
 go, and there was really very little grimness in the 
 smile on this occasion very little indeed ! "Willie 
 also nodded with great violence and frequency ; he 
 likewise winked with one eye, and otherwise sought 
 to indicate that there were within him sundry deep 
 and not easily expressed thoughts and feelings, which 
 were, upon the whole, of a satisfactory nature. 
 
 As for the fairy, she never once smiled or thanked 
 Mr. Auberly, but simply stared at him with her 
 lustrous eyes open to their very widest, and she 
 continued to stare at the door, as though she saw 
 him through it, for some time after they were gone. 
 Then she turned suddenly to the wall, thanked God, 
 and burst into tears glad tears, such as only those 
 can weep who have unexpectedly found relief when 
 their extremity was greatest
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 WHICH BEVEALS A REMARKABLE CHANGE IN THE PROSPECTS AKD 
 FORTUNES OF DAVID BOONE. 
 
 THEKE is nothing more surprising in regard to 
 sublunary matters than the way in which unexpected 
 events arise out of what may be called unintentional 
 causes. 
 
 When David Boone and his friend Gorman planned 
 the insurance and destruction of the toy-shop and 
 its contents, they no more expected that the very 
 first steps towards that end would result in the con- 
 version of a poor into a flourishing business, than 
 they expected that the expression of a wish would 
 convert Poorthing Lane into Beverly Square ; yet 
 so it was. 
 
 Poor David was rendered so desperate by his 
 straits, and so anxious to escape from the crime 
 into which his friend sought to plunge him, that 
 lie meditated suicide ; but, lacking the courage to 
 accomplish this, he relieved his feelings by carrying 
 out the details of his business and the preliminary
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 293 
 
 steps of his plan, with the wild and reckless energy 
 of a maniac. The more he thought of the meshes 
 which Gorman had cast around him, the more did 
 he regard escape impossible. He therefore sought 
 relief in action. He not only talked to his neigh- 
 bours (as per agreement) about his rapidly-increasing 
 brfsiness, but he made purchases on a scale more 
 extensive than he had ever before contemplated, 
 even in his dreams. Being convinced that ruin, 
 sooner or later, was his doom, he indulged in the 
 most extravagant excesses, with much of the feeling 
 which prompts some seamen, when the ship is 
 sinking, to break into the spirit-room and spend 
 the short remnant of life in jollity. He experienced 
 a sort of savage delight in ordering right and left 
 from wholesale dealers in town and country, and 
 even went so far as to write to Germany for toys, 
 using the name of a well-known London house, 
 which had hitherto (and justly) believed him to be 
 an honest man. The result of this was that Poor- 
 thing Lane was besieged for some time by railway 
 vans, and waggons so huge that apparently an inch 
 more added to their bulk would have rendered their 
 passage impossible. Great deal boxes were con- 
 stantly being unpacked in front of Mr. Boone's door, 
 much to the annoyance of Miss Tippet, who could 
 not imagine how it happened that her sedate and 
 slow-going landlord had got such a sudden increase
 
 294 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OP 
 
 of business. Little did she think, poor lady, that 
 this was the fuel with which it was intended to 
 roast her alive ! 
 
 Some of the smaller accounts for goods thus pur- 
 chased Boone paid at once with the money furnished 
 to him by Gorman, and thus got credit for being a 
 capitalist. Others he deferred payment of until a 
 more convenient season. 
 
 His friend Gorman, who would not have bent the 
 joint of his little finger to have saved him from 
 destruction, was so anxious to get up a good appear- 
 ance, for the sake of getting the insurance effected 
 advantageously, that he did his best to carry out 
 his part of the plan, and, being a man of energy 
 who in the paths of virtue might have risen to a 
 high position among men, he succeeded beyond his 
 expectation. Crowds of purchasers were sent by 
 him to the shop of " the celebrated toyman," Some 
 were mere decoy-ducks, who came and went (for a 
 consideration) pretty frequently, and only " priced " 
 the goods. Others were genuine purchasers, and 
 between the two they created so much traffic in 
 the toy-shop, that the multitude so difficult to 
 move by mere suasion, but so prone to follow 
 blindly in the wake of a senseless rush, when once 
 the rush takes place began to move in the direc- 
 tion of the toyshop, and shortly before Christmas 
 the demand for toys was so great, that Boone had
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 295 
 
 to engage two assistants to carry on the business, 
 and even the lane itself began to feel the benefit 
 of the sudden increase of traffic. 
 
 All this was patent to the eyes of David Boone, 
 but he was so overwhelmed with a sense of the 
 guilt he was about to incur, and the deception he 
 was even then practising, that he regarded the 
 whole affair as a hollow bubble, which would soon 
 burst and leave nothing behind. Even the rapid 
 increase of the credit-balance in his bank-book did 
 not affect his opinion, for he was not much of a 
 financier, and, knowing that his transactions were 
 founded on deception, he looked on the balance as 
 being deceptive also. 
 
 Not so thought Gorman. That wily individual 
 perceived, to his amazement, that things were 
 taking a turn which had never been contemplated, 
 so he silently looked on and wondered, and chuckled, 
 and resolved to abide his time. 
 
 As prosperity flowed in upon him, David Boone 
 became more insane, for his condition of mind 
 was little, if at all, short of temporary insanity, 
 and his proceedings became more eccentric than 
 ever. Among other things, he became suddenly 
 smitten with a desire to advertise, and immediately 
 in the columns of the papers appeared advertise- 
 ments to the effect that "The Celebrated Toy 
 Emporium" was to be found in Poorthing Lane,
 
 296 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Finding that this increased his business consider- 
 ably, he hit upon a plan of advertising which has 
 been practised rather extensively of late years in 
 London. He sent out an army of boys with pots 
 of whitewash and brushes, with directions to print 
 in rough but large legible letters the words, " "Who 's 
 Boone ? " on all the blank walls of the metropolis, 
 and in the papers he answered the question by 
 having printed, under the same title, "Why, the 
 manager of the Toy Emporium, to be sure, in 
 Poorthing Lane." He also advertised specially 
 that he had in stock " an assortment of 500 golden- 
 haired dolls from Germany, full -dressed, half- 
 dressed, and naked." 
 
 This last was irresistible. Thousands of young 
 hearts beat high at the mere thought of such 
 numbers " with golden hair too ! " and dozens 
 of mammas, and papas too, visited Poorthing Lane 
 in consequence. 
 
 In course of time David Boone's eyes began 
 to open to the fact that he was rapidly making a 
 fortune. 
 
 It was after the bustle of the Christmas season 
 was over that he made this discovery. One of his 
 new assistants, a young man, named Lyall, was 
 the means of opening his employer's eyes to the 
 truth. Lyall was a clever accountant, and had 
 been much surprised from the first that Boone
 
 THE LONDON FillE BKIGADJJ. 297 
 
 kept no regular system of books. At the end of 
 the year he suggested that it would be well to 
 take stock and find out the state of the business. 
 Boone agreed. Lyall went to work, and in a short 
 time the result of his labours showed, that after all 
 debts were paid, there would remain a satisfactory 
 credit-balance at the bank. 
 
 On the evening of the day on which this marvel- 
 lous fact was impressed on Boone's mind, Gorman 
 called, and found his friend rubbing his hands, and 
 smiling benignantly in the back room. 
 
 " You seem jolly," said Gorman, sitting down, as 
 usual, by the fire, and pulling out, as usual, the 
 short pipe. " Business gittin' on well ? " 
 
 " It is," said Boone, standing with his back to the 
 fire, and swaying himself gently to and fro ; " things 
 don't look so bad I can pay you the arrears of 
 rent now." 
 
 " Oh, can you ? " said Gorman. " Ah." 
 
 "Yes, and I'm in a position to pay you fifty 
 pounds of the debt I owe you besides," said Boone. 
 
 " And a bill at three months for the balance ? " 
 inquired Gorman 
 
 No, he could not venture to do that exactly, but 
 he hoped to pay a further instalment before the end 
 of three months. 
 
 " Humph ! How much may the profits be ? " 
 
 Boone could not say precisely, not having had all
 
 298 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE 0* 
 
 his accounts squared, but he believed they were 
 considerable. 
 
 "I'll be bound they are," said Gorman, with a 
 growl ; " you won't want to set things alight now, I 
 daresay." 
 
 " Well, I think it '11 be as well to wait a bit, and 
 let us make hay while this sunshine goes on." 
 
 " Let you make hay, you mean?" 
 
 " Oh, as to that, the most of it will go to your 
 stack for some time to come, Gorman." 
 
 " H'm ! and what about the insurance ?" 
 
 " Well, you know," observed Boone, " it 's of no 
 use paying the premium for nothing. As we don't 
 mean to set the place alight, you know ." 
 
 " Ay, but the life insurance, I mean," said 
 Gorman. 
 
 Boone laughed, and observed that he thought it 
 best not die just at that particular time, whereupon 
 Gorman laughed too, and said he was about right, 
 and that it would be as well to delay both events in 
 the meantime ; after saying which, he took his leave 
 in better humour than usual, for Gorman was what 
 men of his own stamp termed a " deep file." He saw 
 into futurity so he thought a considerable way 
 farther than most men, and in the future of his own 
 imagination he saw such a pleasant picture that his 
 amiable spirit was quite cheered by it. He saw 
 David Boone making money so fast, that his goods
 
 THE LONDON FffiE BRIGADE. 299 
 
 might be insured at a much larger amount ; he saw 
 him getting into fresh difficulties, of course, because 
 such a business, on such a foundation, could not go 
 on prosperously except under the most able manage- 
 ment, and, even though it did prosper in spite of 
 improbabilities, he foresaw that there was an ami- 
 able gentleman, much like himself, who would 
 induce Boone to traffic beyond his means, and 
 when money was wanted, the same kind gentle- 
 man (he saw that quite clearly) would come for- 
 ward generously with a loan, for which he would 
 only ask Boone to make over to him in security his 
 two policies of insurance fire and life ; after which 
 well, we need not go on revealing the future as it 
 appeared to Gorman's mental vision, suffice it to say, 
 that he saw upon the whole a prospect which gave 
 him great satisfaction. 
 
 There were one or two things which he did not 
 see, however, and which might have modified his 
 feelings considerably if he had seen them. Of these 
 we shall say nothing at present. 
 
 As for David Boone; his heart rejoiced, for he 
 too had visions of the future which charmed him. 
 He saw his debt to Gorman paid, ind himself set 
 free from the power of that amiable friend. He saw 
 a toyshop change its locality and its aspect. He 
 saw it transplanted into Eegent Street, with plate- 
 glass windows, in which were displayed objects oi
 
 300 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 marvellous ingenuity and transcendent beauty. One 
 window especially exhibiting, not a crowd, but, a 
 very nation of wax- dolls with blue eyes and golden 
 hair ! He saw, moreover, a very little old woman, 
 lying in a bed, in an elegant and comfortable apart- 
 ment, with a Bible beside her, and a contented smile 
 on her face. This old lady resembled his own 
 mother so strongly, that all other prospects of the 
 future faded from his view, and in the fulness of 
 his heart and his success, he resolved then and there 
 to go home and present her with a gift on the 
 strength of the prosperity at that time attained to. 
 
 David was sorely perplexed as to what this gift 
 ought to be. He thought of a new silk gown at 
 first; but the remembrance of the fact that his 
 mother was bedridden banished this idea. Owing 
 to the same fact, new boots and gloves were inad- 
 missible ; but caps were not happy thought ! He 
 started off at once, and returned home with a cap so 
 gay, voluminous, and imposing, that the old lady, 
 unused though she was to mirth, laughed with 
 amusement, while she cried with joy, at this (not 
 the first) evidence of her son's affection.
 
 CHAPTEE XXV. 
 
 HEOCBDS CHANGES AND MTSTERIES MORE OR LESS UNFATHOMABLE, 
 
 SEVEN years passed away. During that period 
 London revolved in its usual course, reproducing its 
 annual number of events, its births, deaths, and 
 marriages ; its plans, plots, and pleasures ; its busi- 
 ness, bustle, and bungle; its successes, sentiments, 
 and sensations ; its facts, fancies, and failures also 
 its fires; which last had increased steadily, until 
 they reached the imposing number of about twelve 
 hundred in the year. 
 
 But although that time elapsed, and many changes 
 took place, for better or for worse, in all circles of 
 society, there had not been much change in the 
 relative positions of the actors in our tale ; at least, 
 not much that was apparent. Great alterations, 
 however, had taken place in the physical condition 
 of some of them, as the sequel will show. 
 
 One bright morning in the spring time of the 
 year, a youth, with the soft down of early manhood
 
 302 FIOHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 on his lips and cheeks, paced slowly to and fro near 
 the margin of the pond in Kensington Gardens. 
 
 Being early, the spot was as complete a solitude 
 as the backwoods of North America, and so thick 
 was the foliage on the noble trees, that no glimpse 
 of the surrounding city could be obtained in any 
 direction. Everything that greeted eye and ear was 
 characteristic of " the woods," even to the swans, 
 geese, ducks, and other water-fowl which sported on 
 the clear surface of the pond ; while the noise of 
 traffic in the mighty metropolis was so subdued by 
 distance as to resemble the deep-toned roar of a 
 great cataract. A stranger, rambling there for the 
 first time, would have found it difficult to believe 
 that he was surrounded on all sides by London 1 
 
 It was one of those soul-stirring mornings in 
 which Nature seems to smile. There was just 
 enough of motion in the air to relieve the effect of 
 what is called a dead calm. The ripple on the 
 water caught the sun's rays, and, breaking them up, 
 scattered them about in a shower of fragmentary 
 diamonds. Fleecy- white clouds floated in the blue 
 sky, suggesting dreams of fairy-land, and scents of 
 sprouting herbage filled the nostrils, reminding one 
 of the fast- approaching summer. 
 
 The youth who sauntered alone by the margin of 
 the pond was broad rf shoulder and stout of limb, 
 though not unusually tall not much above the
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 303 
 
 middle height. His gait was easy, free, almost 
 reckless as though he cared not a fig for anybody, 
 high or low, rich or poor ; yet his eye was bright 
 and his smile kindly, as though he cared for every- 
 body, high, low, rich, and poor. He sauntered with 
 his hands in the pockets of his short coat, and 
 wkislled an operatic air in a low melodious tone. 
 He was evidently waiting for some one ; and, judg- 
 ing from his impatient gestures, some one who was 
 resolved to keep him waiting. 
 
 Presently, a female figure appeared in the far 
 distance, on the broad avenue that leads direct from 
 the Serpentine. She was young and graceful in 
 form ; but she walked with a quick step, with her 
 eyes looking down, like one who regarded neither 
 youth nor grace. Curiously enough, this downcast 
 look gave to her fair face a modest, captivating 
 grace, which is never seen to sit upon the lofty 
 brow, or to circle round the elevated nose, of con- 
 scious beauty. 
 
 The youth at first paid no attention to her (she 
 was not the " some one," for whom he waited) ; but 
 as she drew near, he became suddenly interested, 
 and threw himself in her way. Just as she was 
 about to pass, she raised her eyes, started, blushed, 
 q,nd exclaimed 
 
 "Mr. WiUders!" 
 
 " Good morning, Miss Ward '" said the youth,
 
 304 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 advancing with a smile, and holding out his hand ; 
 " this is indeed an unexpected pleasure ; I did not 
 know that you were addicted to early walking." 
 
 "I am indeed fond of early walking," replied 
 Emma, with a smile ; " but I cannot say that it is 
 so much pleasure as duty which brings me here. I 
 am a day-governess, and pass this pond every morn- 
 ing on my way to Kensington, where the family 
 in which I teach resides." 
 
 "Indeed," said Willie, with that amount of 
 emphasis which denotes moderate surprise and 
 solicits information. 
 
 He paused for a single moment ; but, seeing that 
 Emma did not intend to speak of her own affairs, 
 he added quickly 
 
 " I am waiting for my brother Frank. We 
 arranged to meet here this morning. I hope that 
 Miss Tippet is well?" 
 
 " Quite well," replied Emma, with a blush, as she 
 took a sudden interest in a large duck, which swam 
 up to the edge of the pond at that moment, in the 
 hope, no doubt, of obtaining food from her hand. 
 Its hopes were disappointed, however, for Emma 
 only called it a beautiful creature ; and then, turn- 
 ing somewhat abruptly to Willie, said, with a slight 
 look of embarrassment, that she feared she should 
 be late and must bid him good-morning. 
 
 Willie felt a good deal puzzled, and had he been
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 305 
 
 the same Willie that we introduced at the com- 
 mencement of our tale, he would have told Emma 
 his mind candidly, and asked her what was the 
 matter ; but Willie was a man now, so he smiled, 
 lifted his hat politely, and wished her good-morning. 
 
 Five minutes later, Frank appeared in the dis- 
 tajaCe, and hurried forward. Seven years had 
 added a little to the breadth of his shoulders, and 
 the firm self-possession of his step and look ; but 
 they had made no other perceptible impression on 
 him. There was, indeed, a deep scar on his right 
 temple ; but that was the result of accident, not of 
 time. Many a hairbreadth escape had he made 
 during these seven years of fighting with the flames, 
 and often had his life been in imminent danger; 
 but he was fortunate in having escaped, hitherto 
 with only a broken leg and a variety of small cut^ 
 scalds, and bruises. The cut on his temple was the 
 severest, and most recent of these. He had got it 
 in a fall through a second floor, which gave way 
 under him as he was attempting to rescue an old 
 bedridden man, who lay in an inner chamber. 
 Frank was carried out in a state of insensibility on 
 the broad shoulders of his friend Baxmore, while 
 Dale rescued the old man. 
 
 "How goes it, Frank?" cried Willie, advancing 
 and giving his brother's hand a warm shake ; " tho 
 cut head mending eh ?"
 
 306 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Oh, it 's all right," replied Frank, with a smile, as 
 they sauntered up and down by the margin of the 
 pond ; " the headaches have left me now, I 'm thank- 
 ful to say, and the doctor tells me it won't leave much 
 of a mark." 
 
 " You don't need to care much if it does, for it 's 
 an honourable scar, and does not spoil your beauty, 
 old boy." 
 
 " Well, Willie," said Frank, " here I am at your 
 request. What have you got to tell me ; nothing 
 serious, I hope ? " 
 
 The stalwart fireman looked earnestly into his 
 brother's face, and exhibited more anxiety than 
 there seemed to be any occasion for. 
 
 "No, nothing very serious. It may be serious 
 enough for all I know ; but as far as my knowledge 
 goes it 's not bad enough to make you look so anxious. 
 Why, what 's the matter with you ?" 
 
 " Nothing, Willie. Perhaps my late accident has 
 shaken my nerves a bit." 
 
 Willie burst into a loud laugh, and said that it 
 was so awfully absurd to hear a man like Frank 
 talking of nerves at all that he could not help it. 
 
 " Well, but what is the news you 've got to teli 
 me?" resumed Frank "You're not going to be 
 married, are you ?" 
 
 Frank asked this with a look and expression so 
 peculiar that Willie again laughed and said that
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 307 
 
 really he could not understand him at all ; for even 
 suppose he had been going to be married, that was 
 no reason why he should take it so much to heart, 
 as the expression on his face implied he did. 
 
 "Perhaps not, Willie," said Frank, with a quiet 
 smile ; " but that is not what you want to speak 
 a*&9ut, then ? " 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 Frank appeared relieved, and Willie, observing 
 the appearance, said 
 
 " Come now, I really don't see why you should be 
 so very much pleased to hear that. I 'm young, it is 
 true, but I'm old enough, and I have a good business, 
 with brilliant prospects, and there appears to me no 
 reason on earth why I should not marry if I felt so 
 disposed." 
 
 "None in the world, Willie," said Frank with 
 some haste, " but you tell me you are not thinking 
 of that just now ; so pray let 's hear what you 've 
 got to say. " 
 
 " Oh ! it 's all very well in you, old Blazes, to 
 change the subject in that way, but I 'm nettled at 
 your implied objection to my getting married if I 
 choose. However, we won't quarrel over it, so here 
 goes for the point." 
 
 Willie's bantering manner instantly left him. He 
 walked in silence for a few seconds, as if he pon 
 dered what he had to say.
 
 308 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " There are two points which trouble me just now, 
 Frank, and I want your opinion in regard to them. 
 The first is, Miss Tippet. She is a small point, no 
 doubt, whether we regard her physically or men- 
 tally, but she is by no means a small point if we re- 
 gard her socially, for the good that that little woman 
 does in a quiet unobtrusive way is almost incredible. 
 D' ye know, Frank, I have a sort of triumphant feel- 
 ing in regard to the sour, cynical folk of this world 
 whom it is so impossible to answer in their falla- 
 cious and sophistical arguments when I reflect that 
 there is a day coming when the meek and lowly 
 and unknown workers for the sake of our Lord shal] 
 be singled out from the multitude, and their true 
 place and position assigned them. Miss Tippet will 
 stand higher, I believe, in the next world than she 
 does in this. Well, Miss Tippet has been much out 
 of sorts of late, mentally ; and Mr. Tippet, who is 
 the kindest man alive, has been very anxious about 
 her, and has begged of me to try to counsel and com- 
 fort her. Now, it is not an easy matter to comply with 
 this request, because, in the first place, Miss Tippet 
 does not want me to counsel or comfort her, so far 
 as I know ; and, in the second place, my motives for 
 attempting to do so might be misunderstood. 
 
 " How so ? " exclaimed Frank quickly. 
 
 "Well, you know, Miss Ward lives with her,' 
 said Willie, with a modest look.
 
 THE LONDON FIBE BRIGADE. 309 
 
 There was again something peculiar about Frank's 
 expression and manner, as he said, " Well, it would 
 not signify much, I daresay, if people were to make 
 remarks about you and Miss Ward, for you know it 
 would not be misconstruction after all" 
 
 " What mean you ? " asked Willie in surprise. 
 ^ You remember what you once said to me about 
 your bosom being on fire," pursued Frank. " I sup- 
 pose the fire has not been got under yet, has it ? " 
 
 Willie burst into a loud laugh. 
 
 "Why, Blazes, do you not know ? But no 
 matter; we came here to talk of business; after 
 that is done we can diverge to love." 
 
 Willie paused here again for a few seconds and 
 then resumed : 
 
 " You must know, Frank, that the cause of Miss 
 Tippet's disturbance just now is the strange conduct 
 of her landlord, David Boone, who has been going 
 on of late in a way that would justify his friends 
 putting him in an asylum. His business affairs are, 
 I fear, in a bad way, and he not only comes with 
 excessive punctuality for Miss Tippet's rent, but he 
 asks her for loans of money in a wild incoherent 
 fashion, -and favours her with cautions and warnings 
 of a kind that are utterly incomprehensible. Only 
 the other night he came to her and asked if she did 
 not intend soon to visit some of her friends ; and 
 on being informed that she did not, he went further
 
 310 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 and advised her to do so, saying that she was look- 
 ing very ill, and he feared she would certainly get 
 into bad health if she did not. In fact, he even said 
 that he feared she would die if she did not go to the 
 country for a few weeks. Now, all this would he 
 laughable, as being the eccentricity of a half-cracked 
 fellow, if it were not that he exhibits such a de- 
 sperate anxiety that his advice should be followed, 
 and even begged of the poor lady, with tears in 
 his eyes, to go to visit her friends. What d'ye 
 think of it, Frank ? I confess myself utterly non- 
 plussed." 
 
 " I don't know what to think," said Frank, after a 
 pause. " Either the man must be mad, or he wishes 
 to rob Miss Tippet's house in her absence." 
 
 Willie admitted that the first supposition might 
 be true, but he held stoutly that the second was im- 
 possible, for Boone was too honest for that They 
 conversed for some time on this point, and both 
 came ultimately to the conclusion that the thing 
 was incomprehensible and mysterious, and that it 
 ought to be watched and inquired into. Willie, 
 moreover, said he would go and consult his friend 
 Barret about it. 
 
 " You know Barret, Frank ?" 
 
 " No ; but I have heard of him." 
 
 " Ah, he 's a first-rate fellow in one of the insur- 
 ance offices, I forget which. I came to know him
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 811 
 
 wlien 1 first went to Mr. Tippet's. He lived then in 
 the floor below us with a drunken companion whom 
 he was anxious to reclaim ; hut he found him so 
 hard to manage that he at last left him, and went to 
 live in Hampstead. He and I became great friends 
 when he lived under our workshop. He got married 
 tvFoyears ago, and I have not seen much of him since, 
 but he 's a sharp fellow, and knows a good deal more 
 of the Tippets than I was aware of. I '11 go and see 
 .if he can throw any light on this subject" 
 
 "The next point," pursued Willie, "is Cattley 
 the clown. Have you seen or heard of him lately?" 
 
 Frank said he had not. 
 
 " Well, I am greatly troubled about him. He 
 has become a regular drunkard, and leads his poor 
 daughter a terrible life. He is so broken down with 
 dissipation that he can scarcely procure employment 
 anywhere. His son is fortunately a pretty decent 
 fellow, though somewhat wild, and helps in a small 
 way to support his father, having obtained a situa- 
 tion as clown at one of the minor theatres. The 
 daughter, Ziza, has long ago given up the profession, 
 and has been struggling to maintain herself and her 
 father by painting fire-screens and making artificial 
 flowers ; but the work is severe and ill paid, and 1 
 see quite well that if the poor girl is not relieved in 
 some way she will not be able to bear up." 
 
 " I grieve to hear this Willie," said Frank, " but
 
 312 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 how comes it that you take so great an interest in 
 these people?" 
 
 " Frank," said Willie, assuming a tone of deep 
 seriousness, while a glow suffused his cheeks, " can 
 you keep a secret ?" 
 
 " I think so, lad ; at least 1 promise to try." 
 
 " Well, then," said Willie, " I love Ziza Cattley." 
 " I knew her first as a fairy, I know her now as a 
 woman who is worthy of a place among the angels, 
 for none but those who know her well and have 
 seen her fighting the battle of life can have the 
 least idea of the self-denial, the perseverance under 
 difficulties, the sweetness of temper, and the deep- 
 seated love of that devoted girl She goes every 
 night, after the toil of each day, to the door of the 
 theatre, where she waits to conduct her father safely 
 past the gin-palaces, into which, but for her, he 
 would infallibly stray, and she spends all she has in 
 making him comfortable, but I see well enough that 
 this is killing her. She can't stand it long, and l 
 won't stand it at all ! I 've made up my mind to 
 that. Now, Frank, I want your advice." 
 
 To say that Frank was hearty in his assurances 
 that he would do what he could to help his brother, 
 would be a faint way of stating the truth. Frank 
 shook Willie by the hand and congratulated him on 
 having gained the affections of one whom he knew 
 to be a good girl, and then condoled with him on
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 313 
 
 that girl's unfortunate circumstances ; but Willie 
 stopped him short at this point by asking him in a 
 tone of surprise what could be the matter with him, 
 for at first he had been apparently annoyed at the 
 notion of his (Willie's) being in love, and now he 
 seemed quite pleased about it. In short, his conduct 
 ws unaccountable ! 
 
 Frank laughed, but said eagerly " Why, Willie, 
 did you not '-ell me long ago that there was a fire 
 ,in your bosom, lit up by a certain young friend of 
 Miss Tippet's " 
 
 " Oh," interrupted Willie, " Emma Ward ; ah, yes, 
 I confess that I did feel spooney once in that direc- 
 tion when I was a boy, but the fairy displaced her 
 long ago. No, no, Frank, I 'm not accountable for 
 boyish fancies. By the way, I have just parted 
 from the fair Emma. We had a Ute-a-Ute, here not 
 half-an-hour before you arrived." 
 
 " Here !" exclaimed Frank in surprise. 
 
 " Ay, here," repeated Willie ; " she passes this pond 
 every morning, she told me, on her way to teach a 
 family in Kensington ; by the way, I didn't think of 
 asking whether the father, mother, and servants were 
 included among her pupils. Why, Frank, what an 
 absent frame of mind you are in this morning ! I 
 declare it is not worth a man's while consulting you 
 about anything." 
 
 " I beg pardon," cried Frank quickly, " your words
 
 314 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 caused my mind to wander a bit Come, what dc 
 you think of doing ?" 
 
 " What do you think I should do ? that is th? 
 question." 
 
 " You can offer to assist them," suggested Frank. 
 
 " I 've done so," said the other, " but Ziza won't 
 accept of assistance." 
 
 " Could we not manage to get her a situation of 
 some sort with light work and good pay ?" 
 
 " Ah ! a fireman's, for instance," cried Willie with 
 a sarcastic laugh ; "did you ever hear of a situation 
 with light work and good pay except under Govern- 
 ment ? / never did ; but we might perhaps find 
 steady work and good pay. It would only be re- 
 quired for a time, because I mean to ah, well, no 
 matter but how and where is it to be got ? Good 
 Mr. Tippet is of no use, because he is mad." 
 
 " Mad, Willie I" 
 
 "Ay, mad as a March hare. For years back 1 
 have suspected it, but now I am sure of it ; in fact, 
 I feel that I have gradually come to be his keeper- 
 but more of that anon. Meanwhile, what is to be 
 done for the Cattleys ?" 
 
 " Could nothing be done with Mr. Auberly ?" 
 
 Willie shook his head. 
 
 " No, I fear not. He was in a soft state once, 
 long ago six or seven years now I think when the 
 dear fairy was ill and he seemed as if he were going
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 316 
 
 to become a man; but his daughter Loo had just 
 begun to be ill at that time. She 's been so long ill 
 now that he has got used to it, and has relapsed again 
 into an oyster." 
 
 "He might be reached through Loo yet," said 
 Frank. 
 
 'Perhaps," replied Willie, "but 1 doubt it, for 
 he 's a blunt old fellow in his feelings, however sharp 
 he may be in his business ; besides, Loo is so weak 
 now that very few are allowed to see her except 
 Ziza, and Miss Tippet, and Emma Ward." 
 
 The brothers remained silent after this for some 
 time, for neither of them could see his way out of 
 their difficulties ; at last Frank suggested that Willie 
 should go home and consult his mother. 
 
 " She is wise, Willie, and has never given us bad 
 advice yet." 
 
 " I know what her first advice will be," said Willie. 
 
 " What ? " asked Frank. 
 
 " To go and pray about it," answered Willie. 
 
 " Well, she might give worse advice than that," 
 said Frank, with much earnestness. "In fact, I 
 doubt if she could give better." 
 
 "True," assented Willie, "and now, old fellow, 
 T 'm off. Mr. Tippet likes punctuality. I '11 look in 
 at the station in passing if anything turns up to clear 
 my mind on these matters, meanwhile good-bye." 
 
 It fe a remarkable fact that Frank Willders took
 
 316 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 an early walk, as frequently as possible, in Kensing- 
 ton Gardens, near the pond, after this conversation 
 with his brother, and it is a still more remarkable 
 fact, that he always felt like a guilty man on these 
 occasions, as if he were taking some mean advantage 
 of some one ; yet it was certain that he took advan- 
 tage of no one, for nobody ever met him there by 
 any chance whatever ! A fact even more remark- 
 able still was, that never, after that day, did Emma 
 Ward go to her duties through Kensington Gardens, 
 but always by the Bayswater Eoad, although the 
 latter was dusty and unpicturesque compared with 
 the former ; and it is a circumstance worthy of note, 
 as savouring a little of mystery, that Emma acted as 
 if she too were a guilty creature during her morning 
 walks, and glanced uneasily from side to side as she 
 went along, expecting, apparently, that a policeman 
 or a detective would pounce upon her suddenly and 
 bear her off to prison. But, whether guilty or not 
 guilty, it is plain that no policeman or detective 
 had the heart to do it, for Miss Ward went on her 
 mission daily without molestation. 
 
 It is not easy to say what was the cause of these 
 unaccountable proceedings. We might hazard an 
 opinion, but we feel that our duty is accomplished 
 when we have simply recorded them. Perhaps love 
 had something to do with them perhaps not who 
 knows?
 
 ^ CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 SHOWS WHAT DRINK WILL DO FOR A MAN, AND WHAT A MAW WILL 
 DO FOR DRINK. 
 
 TIME passed on, as time is wont to do, and 
 Christmas came again. The snow was deep in 
 London streets, and thick on the roofs and chim- 
 neys. It curled over the eaves of the houses in 
 heavy white folds, ready to fall and smother the 
 unwary passengers. It capped the railings every- 
 where with little white knobs, and rounded off the 
 corners of things so, that wherever the eye alighted, 
 the same impressions were invariably conveyed to 
 it, namely, whiteness and rotundity. Corinthian 
 capitals were rendered, if possible, more ornate than 
 ever by snow ; equestrian statues were laden with 
 it so heavily, that the horses appeared to stagger 
 beneath their trappings, and the riders, having white 
 tips to their noses, white lumps on their heads and 
 shoulders, and white patches on their cheek-bones 
 and chins, looked ineffably ridiculous, and miser- 
 ably cold. Everything, in fact, was covered and 
 
 817
 
 318 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 blocked up with snow, and Londoners felt as if 
 they had muffled drums in their ears. 
 
 It was morning. The sky was clear, the air still, 
 and the smoke of chimneys perpendicular. Poul- 
 terers' shops were in their holiday attire ; toyshops 
 were in the ascendant, and all other shops were 
 gayer than usual So were the people who thronged 
 the streets and beat their hands and stamped their 
 feet for it was unusually cold. 
 
 Si-reet boys were particularly lively, and chaff was 
 flying as thickly as snow-flakes had fallen the night 
 before. Even the roughs who forsook their dens, 
 and, with shovels and brooms on their shoulders,, 
 paraded the streets, intent on clearing door-steps 
 with or without the leave of inhabitants seemed 
 to be less gruff than usual, and some of them even 
 went the length of cutting jokes with the cabmen 
 and the boys. Perhaps their spirits were elevated 
 by the proud consciousness of being for once in the 
 way of earning an honest penny ! 
 
 "I say, Ned," observed one of these roughs (a 
 lively one), who was very rough indeed, to a com- 
 panion, who was rougher still, and gloomy, "look 
 at that there gal cleanin* of her steps with a fire- 
 shovel ! Ain't that economy gone mad? Hallo, 
 young 'ooman, what 's the use o' tryin' to do it with 
 a teaspoon, when there 's Ned and me ready to do 
 it with OUT shovels for next to nothin' ? "
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 319 
 
 The servant- girl declined the assistance thus 
 liberally offered, so the two men moved slowly on, 
 looking from side to side, as they went in expecta- 
 tion of employment, while a small boy, in a man's 
 hat, who walked behind them, nodded to the girl, 
 and said she was a " sensible thrifty gal," and that 
 she-might be sure there was " some feller unknown 
 who would bless the day he was born arter he 'd got 
 her." 
 
 Fifty yards farther on, a stout red -faced elderly 
 gentleman was observed to look out at the street- 
 door and frown at things in general 
 
 " Have your door-steps cleaned, sir ? " asked the 
 lively rough, taking the shovel off his shoulder. 
 
 The elderly gentleman being angry, on private and 
 unknown grounds (perhaps bad digestion), vouch- 
 safed no reply, but looked up at the sky and then 
 over the way. 
 
 " Do it cheap, sir," said the lively rough. 
 
 " No ! " said the elderly gentleman, with a sort of 
 snapping look, as he turned his gaze up the street 
 and then down it. 
 
 " Snow 's wery deep on the steps, sir," said the 
 rough. 
 
 "D' you suppose I'm an ass?" exclaimed the 
 elderly gentleman, in a sudden burst. 
 
 "Well, sir," said the lively rough, in the grave 
 tone and manner of one who has had a difficult
 
 320 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 question in philosophy put to him, " well, sir, I don't 
 know about that" 
 
 His large mouth expanded gradually from ear to 
 ear after this reply. The elderly gentleman's face 
 became scarlet and his nose purple, and retreating 
 two paces, he slammed the door violently in the 
 rough's face. 
 
 " Ah ! it all comes of over-feedin', poor feller," 
 said the lively man, shouldering his shovel and 
 resuming his walk beside his gloomy comrade, who 
 neither smiled nor frowned at these pleasantries. 
 
 " A warm old g'nTm'n !" remarked the boy in the 
 man's hat as he passed. 
 
 The lively man nodded and winked. 
 
 " Might eat his wittles raw an' cook 'em inside 
 a'most ! " continued the boy ; " would advise him to 
 keep out of 'yde Park, though, for fear he 'd git too 
 near the powder-magazine ! " 
 
 At this point the gloomy rough who did not 
 appear, however, to be a genuine rough, but a pretty 
 good imitation of one, made of material that had 
 once seen better days stopped, and said to his com- 
 rade that he was tired of that sort of work, and 
 would bid him good-day. Without waiting for an 
 answer he walked away, and his companion, without 
 vouchsafing a reply, looked after him with a sneer. 
 
 " A rum cove ! " he remarked to the small boy in 
 the man's hat, as he continued his progress.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 321 
 
 " Kayther," replied the boy. 
 
 With this interchange of sentiment these casual 
 acquaintances parted, to meet probably no more ! 
 
 Meanwhile the gloomy rough, whom the lively 
 one had called Ned, walked with rapid steps along 
 several streets, as though he had a distinct purpose 
 in* view. He turned at last into a narrow quiet 
 street, and going up to the door of a shabby- 
 genteel house, applied the knocker with consider- 
 able vigour. 
 
 "Now then, go along with you; we don't want 
 your services here ; we clear off our own snow, we 
 do. Imprence ! to knock, too, as if he was a gentle- 
 man ! " 
 
 This was uttered by a servant-girl who had thrust 
 her head out of a second-floor window to take an 
 observation of the visitor before going down to open 
 the door. 
 
 " Is he at home, Betsy dear ?" inquired the gloomy 
 man, looking up with a leer which proved that he 
 could be the reverse of gloomy when he chose. 
 
 " Oh, it 's you, is it ? I don't think he wants to 
 see you ; indeed, I 'm sure of it," said the girl. 
 
 " Yes he does, dear ; at all events I want to see 
 him ; and, Betsy, say it 's pressing business, and not 
 beggin'." 
 
 Betsy disappeared, and soon after, reappearing at 
 the door, admitted the man, whom she ushered into 
 x
 
 322 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 a small apartment, which was redolent of tobacco, 
 and in which sat a young man slippered and dressing- 
 gowned, taking breakfast. 
 
 " How are you, doctor ?" said the visitor, in a tone 
 that did not accord with his soiled and ragged gar- 
 ments, as he laid down his hat and shovel, and flung 
 himself into a chair. 
 
 " None the better for seeing you, Hooper," replied 
 the doctor sternly. 
 
 " Well, well ! " exclaimed Ned, " what a world we 
 live in, to be sure ! It was ' Hail fellow ! well met/ 
 when I was well off; now" (he scowled here) "my 
 old familiars give me the cold shoulder "because I'm 
 poor ! " 
 
 " You know that you are unjust," said the doctor, 
 leaping back in his chair, and speaking less sternly 
 though not less firmly; "you know, Ned, that I 
 have helped you with advice and with money to the 
 utmost extent of my means, and you know that it 
 was a long long time before I ceased to call you one 
 of my friends ; but I do not choose to be annoyed 
 by a man who has deliberately cast himself to the 
 dogs, whose companions are the lowest wretches in 
 London, and whose appearance is dirty and disgust- 
 ing as well as disreputable. 
 
 " I can't help it," pleaded Hooper ; " I can get no 
 work." 
 
 " T don't wonder at that," replied the doctor ;
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 323 
 
 " every friend you ever had has got you work of one 
 kind or another during the last few years, and you 
 have drunk yourself out of it every time. Do you 
 imagine that your friends will continue to care for a 
 man who cares not for himself ? " 
 
 Ned did not reply, but hung his head in moody 
 silence. 
 
 " Now," continued the doctor, " my time is a little 
 more valuable than yours ; state what you have got 
 to say, and then be off. Stay," he added, in a softened 
 tone, " have you breakfasted ? " 
 
 " No," answered Ned, with a hungry glance at the 
 table. 
 
 " Well, then, as you did not come to beg, you may 
 draw in your chair and go to work." 
 
 Ned at once availed himself of this permission, 
 and his spirits revived wonderfully as he progressed 
 with the meal, during which he stated the cause of 
 his visit. 
 
 " The fact is," said he, " that I want your assist- 
 ance, doctor " 
 
 " I told you already," interrupted the other, " that 
 I have assisted you to the utmost extent of my 
 means." 
 
 " My good fellow, not so sharp, pray," said Ned, 
 helping himself to another roll, the first having 
 vanished like a morning cloud; "I don't want 
 money ah ! that is to say, I do want money, but
 
 324 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 I don't want yours. No ; I came here to ask you 
 to help me to get a body." 
 
 " A body ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Why, what I say; surely you've cut up enough 
 of 'em to know 'em by name ; a dead body, doctor, 
 a subject." 
 
 The doctor smiled. 
 
 ''That's a strange request, Ned. You're not 
 going to turn to my profession as a last resort, I 
 hope ? " 
 
 " No, not exactly ; but a friend of mine wants a 
 body that 's all, and offers to pay me a good round 
 sum if I get one for him." 
 
 "Is your friend a medical man?" asked the 
 doctor. 
 
 "N no, he's not. In fact, he has more to do 
 with spirits than bodies ; but he wants one of the 
 latter, and I said I 'd try to get him one so, if 
 you can help me, do so, like a good fellow. My 
 friend is particular, however ; he wants a man one, 
 above six feet, thin and sallow, and with long black 
 hair." 
 
 " You don't suppose I keep a stock of assorted 
 subjects on hand, do you?" said the doctor. "I 
 fear it won't be easy to get what you want Do 
 you know what your friend intends to do with 
 it?" 
 
 "Not I, and I don't care," said Ned, pouring
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 325 
 
 out another cup of coffee. "What does a body 
 cost ? " 
 
 " Between two and three pounds," replied the 
 doctor. 
 
 "Dear me, so cheap," said Ned, with a look of 
 surprise; "then that knocks on the head a little 
 pl&n I had. I thought of offering myself for sale at 
 Guy's, or one of the hospitals, and drinking myself 
 to death with the money, ^caving my address, so 
 that they might know where to find me ; but it 's 
 not worth while to do it for so little ; in fact, I 
 don't believe I could accomplish it on three pounds' 
 worth of dissipation." 
 
 " Don't jest about your besetting sin," said the 
 doctor gravely ; "it's bad enough without that." 
 
 " Bad enough ! " exclaimed Ned, with a sudden 
 flash of ferocity; "ay, bad enough in all con- 
 science, and the worst of it is, that it makes me 
 ready to jest about anything in heaven, earth, or 
 hell. Oh, drink ! accursed drink ! " 
 
 He started up and clutched the hair of his head 
 with both hands for a moment; but the feeling 
 passed away, and he sat down again and resumed 
 breakfast, while he said in a graver tone than he 
 had yet used 
 
 " Excuse me, doctor ; I 'm subject to these bursts 
 now and then. Well, what say you about the 
 body ? My friend offers me twenty pounds, if I get
 
 326 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 the right kind. That would be seventeen pounds of 
 profit on the transaction. It 's worth an effort. It 
 might put me in the way of making one more 
 stand." 
 
 Ned said this sadly, for he had made so many 
 stands in time past, and failed to retain his position, 
 that hope was at dead low- water of a very neap-tide 
 now. 
 
 "I don't like the look of the thing," said the 
 doctor. " There 's too much secrecy about it for me. 
 Why don't your friend speak out like a man ; state 
 what he wants it for, and get it in the regular 
 way?" 
 
 " It mayn't be a secret, for all I know " said Ned 
 Hooper, as he concluded his repast. " I did not 
 take the trouble to ask him ; because I didn't care. 
 You might help me in this, doctor." 
 
 " Well, I '11 put you in the way of getting what 
 you want," said the doctor, after a few moments' 
 reflection ; " but you must manage it yourself. I '11 
 not act personally in such an affair ; and let me 
 advise you to make sure that you are not getting 
 into a scrape before you take any steps in the 
 matter. Meanwhile, I must wish you good- day. 
 Call here again to-night, at six." 
 
 The doctor rose as he spoke, and accompanied 
 Ned to the door. He left a coin of some sort in his 
 palm, when he shook hands.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BKIGADE. 327 
 
 " Thankee," said Ned. 
 
 " If you had come to beg, you should not have 
 got it," said the doctor. " God help him !" he added, 
 as he shut the door ; " it is an awful sight to see an 
 old companion fall so low."
 
 CHAPTER XX VII. 
 
 rN WHICH A STRONG LIGHT IS THROWN ON AN OLD PLOT. 
 
 IT is evening now. The snow is still on the 
 ground ; but it looks ruddy and warm in the streets, 
 because of the blaze of light from the shop-win- 
 dows, and it looks colder than it did on the house- 
 tops, by reason of the moon which sails in the 
 wintry sky. 
 
 The man in the moon must have been in good 
 spirits that night, for his residence seemed almost 
 fuller than the usual full moon, and decidedly 
 brighter to many, at least, of the inhabitants of 
 London. 
 
 It looked particularly bright to Miss Tippet, as 
 she gazed at it through the windows of her upper 
 rooms, and awaited the arrival of " a few friends" to 
 tea. Miss Tippet's heart was animated with feelings 
 of love to God and man ; and she had that day, in 
 obedience to the Divine precept, attempted and ac- 
 complished a good many little things, all of which 
 
 9V
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 329 
 
 were, either directly or indirectly, calculated to make 
 human beings happy. 
 
 Emma Ward, too, thought the moon particularly 
 bright that night; in fact, she might almost have 
 been regarded as a lunatic, so steadily did she gaze 
 at the moon, and smile to herself without any 
 apparent motive. There was reason for her joy, 
 however; for she had come to know, in some 
 mysterious way, that Frank Willders loved her, and 
 she had known, for a long time past, that she loved 
 Frank Willders. 
 
 Frank had become a foreman of the Fire Brigade, 
 and had been removed from his former station and 
 comrades to his new charge in the City. But Frank 
 had not only risen in his profession; he had also 
 risen intellectually. His mother had secured to him 
 a pretty good education to begin with, and his own 
 natural taste and studious habits had led him to 
 read extensively. His business required him to sit 
 up and watch when other men slept. He seldom 
 went to bed before four o'clock any morning, and 
 when he did take his rest, he lay down like the 
 soldier in an enemy's country, ready to rush to arms 
 at the first sound of the bugle. His bugle, by the 
 way, was a speaking-trumpet, one end of which was 
 close to the head of his bed, the other end being in 
 the lobby where the men on duty for the night re-
 
 ?30 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 During these long watches in the silent lobby, 
 with the two men belted and booted on their 
 tressels, and the clock ticking gently by his side 
 like the soft quiet voice of a chatty but not tire- 
 some friend, Frank read book after book with 
 absorbing interest. History, poetry, travel, romance 
 all kinds were equally devoured. At the particu- 
 lar time of which we write, however, he read more 
 of poetry than of anything else. 
 
 The consequence was that Frank, who was one of 
 nature's gentlemen, became a well-informed man, 
 and might have moved in any circle of society 
 with credit to himself, and profit as well as 
 pleasure to others. 
 
 Frank was by nature, grave, sedate, earnest, 
 thoughtful Emma was equally earnest more so 
 perhaps but she was light-hearted (not light- 
 headed, observe) and volatile. The result was, 
 mutual attraction. Let philosophers account for 
 the mutual attraction of these qualities as they 
 best may, we simply record the fact. History 
 records it ; nature records it ; experience every- 
 thing records it; who has the temerity, or folly, 
 to deny it ? 
 
 Emma and Frank felt it, and, in some mysterious 
 way, Frank had come to know something or other 
 about Emma's feelings, which it is not our business 
 to inquire into too particularly.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 331 
 
 So, then, Frank also gazed no, not at the moon ; 
 it would have required him to ascend three flights 
 of stairs, and a ladder, besides passing through a 
 trap to the roof of the station, to enable him to do 
 that ; but there was a lamp over the fireplace, with 
 a tin reflector, which had quite a dazzling effect of 
 is own not a bad imitation of the moon in a 
 small way so he gazed at that, and thought it 
 very bright indeed ; brighter than usual. 
 
 We may as well put the reader out of suspense 
 at once, by saying, that we do not intend to describe 
 Miss Tippet's evening with " a few friends." Our 
 own private opinion in regard to the matter is, that 
 if they had been fewer than they were, and more 
 worthy of the name of friends, the evening might 
 have been worth recording, but it is sufficient to say 
 that they all came ; acted as usual, spoke as usual, 
 felt as usual, " favoured the company " with songs, 
 as usual, and ah yes, enjoyed themselves as 
 usual, till about half-past eleven o'clock, when they 
 all took their leave, with the exception of Miss 
 Deemas, who, in consideration of the coldness of 
 the weather, had agreed to spend the night with her 
 " dear friend." 
 
 Miss Deemas was one of those unfortunates with 
 whom it is impossible for any one to sleep. Besides 
 being angular and hard, she had a habit of kicking 
 In her slumbers, and, being powerful, was a danger-
 
 332 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 ous bedfellow. She knew this herself, and therefore 
 wisely preferred, when visiting her friends, to sleep 
 alone. Hence it happened that Miss Tippet and 
 Emma went to bed in the back room with the green 
 hangings, while Miss Deemas retired to the front 
 room with the blue paper. 
 
 There is a common fallacy in naval matters, 
 founded on poetical license, to the effect that the 
 mariner is separated from death by a single plank ; 
 whereas, the unpoetical truth is, that the separation 
 consists of many hundreds of planks, and a solid 
 bulwark of timbers more than a foot thick, besides 
 an inner " skin," the whole being held together by 
 innumerable iron and oaken bolts and trenails, and 
 tightened with oakum and pitch. We had almost 
 fallen into this error or poetical laxity of expres- 
 sion by saying that, on the night of which we write, 
 little did Miss Tippet know that she was separated 
 from, not death exactly, but from something very- 
 awful, by a single plank ; at least, by the floor of 
 her own residence, and the ceiling of the house 
 below as the sequel will show. 
 
 That same night, David Boone, gaunt, tall, and 
 cadaverous as of old, sat in his back parlour, talking 
 with his friend Gorman. 
 
 " Now, Boone," said the latter, with an oath, 
 " I'm not goin' to hang off and on any longer. It's 
 more than seven years since we planned this
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BKIGADE. 333 
 
 business, the insurances have been effected, you 've 
 bin a prosperous man, yet here you are, deeper in 
 my debt than ever." 
 
 " Quite true," replied Boone, whose face was so 
 pale that he might have easily been mistaken for a 
 ghost, " but you know I have paid up my premiums 
 quite regular, and your interest too, besides clearin' 
 off some of the principal Come, don't be hard on 
 me, Gorman. If it had not been that trade has got 
 worse of kte, I would have cleared off all I owe 
 you, but indeed, indeed I have not been so success- 
 ful of late, and I'm again in difficulties. If you 
 will only wait ." 
 
 "No," cried Gorman, "I'll not wait. I have 
 waited long enough. How long would you have 
 me wait eh? Moreover, I'm not hard on you. 
 I show you an easy way to make a good thing of 
 it, and you 're so chicken-hearted that you 're afraid 
 to do it." 
 
 " It's such a mean thing to do," said Boone. 
 
 " Mean ! Why, what do you call the style of 
 carrying on business that you started with seven 
 years ago, and have practised more or less ever 
 since?" 
 
 " That is mean too," said Boone, " I 'm ashamed 
 of it ; sorry for it. It was for a time successful no 
 doubt, and I have actually paid off all my creditors 
 except yourself, but I don't think it the less mean
 
 334 WGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 on that account, and I'm thoroughly ashamed of 
 it." 
 
 There was a good deal of firmness in Boone's tone 
 as he said this, and his companion was silent for a 
 few minutes. 
 
 " I have arranged," he said at last, " about your 
 making over your policies of insurance to me as 
 security for the debt you owe me. You won't have 
 to pay them next half-year, I '11 do that for you if 
 necessary." He laughed as he said this. "I have 
 now come to ask you to set the house alight, and 
 have the plan carried out, and the whole affair com- 
 fortably settled." 
 
 Gorman said this in an encouraging voice, assum- 
 ing that his dupe was ready to act. 
 
 "B But it's awful to think of," said Boone, 
 " suppose it's found out?" 
 
 " How can it be found out ?" 
 
 " Well, I don't know. It 's wonderful how crime 
 is discovered," said Boone despondingly ; " besides, 
 think of the risk we run of .burning the people who 
 live above, as well as my two clerks who sleep in 
 the room below us : that would be murder, you know. 
 I 'm sure I have tried my very best to get Miss 
 Tippet to go from home for a short time, I 've almost 
 let the cat out of the bag in my anxiety, but she 
 won't take the hint." 
 
 " Oho !" exclaimed Gorman, with a laugh.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 335 
 
 " Well, have you made the arrangements as I 
 directed you last night ?" 
 
 "Yes, I've got a lot of tarry oakum scattered 
 about, and there is a pile of shavings," he added, 
 pointing to a corner of the room ; " the only thing 
 I'm anxious about is that my young man Eobert 
 I^ptldy caught me pouring turpentine on the walls 
 and floor of the shop. I pretended that it was water 
 I had in the can, and that I was sprinkling it to lay 
 the dust before sweeping up. Roddy is a slow, 
 stupid youth ; he always was, and, I daresay, did 
 not notice the smell." 
 
 Gorman was himself filled with anxiety on hearing 
 the first part of this, but at the conclusion he ap- 
 peared relieved. 
 
 " It 's lucky you turned it off so," said he, ' and 
 Roddy is a stupid fellow. I daresay he has no sus- 
 picion. In fact, I am sure of it." 
 
 " It 's not of much importance now, however," said 
 Boone, rising and confronting his friend with more 
 firmness than he had ever before exhibited to him, 
 " because I have resolved not to do it." 
 
 Gorman lit his pipe at the fire, looking at the 
 bowl of it with a scornful smile as he replied : 
 
 " Oh ! you have made up your mind, have 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes, decidedly. Nothing will move me. You 
 may do your worst "
 
 336 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Very good," remarked Gorman, advancing with 
 the lighted paper towards the heap of shavings. 
 
 Boone sprang towards him, and, seizing his arm, 
 grasped the light and crushed it out. 
 
 " What would you do, madman ?" he cried. " You 
 can only ruin me, but do you not know that I will 
 have the power to denounce you as a fire-raiser?" 
 
 Gorman laughed, and returned to the fireplace, 
 while Boone sat down on a chair almost overcome 
 with terror. 
 
 " What ! you dare to defy me ?" said Gorman, with 
 an air of assumed pity. " A pretty case you would 
 have to make out of it. You fill your shop with 
 combustibles, you warn your tenant upstairs to get 
 out of the premises for a time in a way that must be 
 quite unaccountable to her (until the fire accounts 
 for it), and ypur own clerk sees you spilling turpen- 
 tine about the place the day before the fire occurs, 
 and yet you have the stupidity to suppose that 
 people will believe you when you denounce me !" 
 
 Poor David Boone's wits seemed to be sharpened 
 by his despair, for he said suddenly, after a short 
 pause 
 
 " If the case is so bad it will tell against yourself, 
 Gorman, for I shall be certainly convicted, and the 
 insurance will not be paid to you." 
 
 " Ay, but the case is not so bad as it looks," said 
 Gorman, " if you only have the sense to hold your
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 337 
 
 tongue and do what you are told ; for nobody knows 
 all these things but you and me, and nobody can 
 put them together except ourselves d' ye see ?" 
 
 " It matters not," said Boone firmly ; ' I won't do 
 it there !" 
 
 Both men leaped up. At the same moment there 
 vfas a sound as of something falling in the shop. 
 They looked at each other. 
 
 <: Go see what it is," said Gorman. 
 
 The other stepped to the door. 
 
 " It 's only two of my wax- dolls tumbled off the 
 shelf," he said on returning. 
 
 An exclamation of horror escaped him, for he saw 
 that the heap of shavings had been set on fire during 
 his momentary absence, and Gorman stood watching 
 them with a demoniacal grin. 
 
 Boone was struck dumb. He could not move or 
 speak. He made a feeble effort to stretch out his 
 hands as if to extinguish the fire, but Gorman seized 
 him in his powerful grasp and held him fast. In a 
 few seconds the flames were leaping up the walls, 
 and the room was so full of smoke that they were 
 driven into the front shop. 
 
 " Now, then," said Gorman in a fierce whisper, 
 " your only chance is to act out your part as wise 
 as you can. Shout fire ! now till you 're black in the 
 f ace _ fi re I FIRE ! ! FIKE ! ! ! " 
 
 David Boone obeyed with all his might, and, when
 
 338 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 Gorman released him, ran back into the parlour to 
 try to extinguish the flames, but he was driven back 
 again, scorched and half-choked, while Gorman ran 
 off at full speed to the nearest station, gave the alarm, 
 received the shilling reward for being first to give 
 the call, and then went leisurely home to bed.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIIL 
 
 WHEREIN SOME OLD FRIENDS ARE FOUND AT THE POST OF DUTT 
 AS USUAL, AND DESPAIR IS FOLLOWED IN ONE INSTANCE BY MAD- 
 
 FIRE ! There is something appalling in the cry to 
 most ears ; something deadly in the sound ; some- 
 thing that tells of imminent danger and urgent 
 haste. After David Boone's first alarm was given, 
 other voices took it up ; passers-by became sud- 
 denly wild, darted about spasmodically and shouted 
 it ; late sitters-up flung open their windows and pro- 
 claimed it; sleepers awoke crying "What! where?" 
 and, huddling on their clothes, rushed out to look at 
 it; little boys yelled it; frantic females screamed 
 it, and in a few minutes the hubbub in Poorthing 
 Lane swelled into a steady roar. 
 
 Among the sound sleepers in that region was 
 Miss Deemas. The fair head of that lady reposed 
 on its soft pillow all unconscious of the fact that she 
 was even then being gently smoked before being 
 roasted alive.
 
 340 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Miss Tippet, on the very first note of alarm, 
 bounced out of bed with an emphatic "There!", 
 which was meant to announce the triumphant fulfil- 
 ment of an old prophecy which she had been in the 
 habit of making for some time past ; namely, that 
 Matty Merryon would certainly set the house on 
 fire if she did not take care ! 
 
 The energy with which Miss Tippet sprang to 
 the floor and exclaimed "There!" caused Emma 
 Ward to open her eyes to the utmost possible ex- 
 tent, and exclaim "Where?" 
 
 Without waiting for a reply she too bounded out 
 of bed like an india-rubber ball, and seeing (for 
 there was always a night-light in the room) that 
 Miss Tippet's face was as white as her night-dress, 
 she attempted to shriek, but failed, owing to a lump 
 of some kind that had got somehow into her throat, 
 and which refused to be swallowed on any terms. 
 
 The repetition of the cry " Fire ! fire ! " outside, 
 induced both ladies at once to become insane. Miss 
 Tippet, with a touch of method even in her mad- 
 ness, seized the counterpane, wrapped it round her, 
 and rushed out of the room and downstairs. Emma 
 followed her example with a blanket, and also fled, 
 just as Matty Merryon, who slept in an attic room 
 above, tumbled down her wooden staircase and burst 
 into the room by another door, uttering a wild ex- 
 clamation that was choked in the bud partly by
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 341 
 
 terror, partly by smoke. Attempting in vain to wrap 
 herself in the bolster, Matty followed her mistress. 
 All three had utterly forgotten the existence of Miss 
 Deemas. That strong-minded lady being, as we 
 have hinted, a sound sleeper, was not awakened by 
 the commotion in the street. In fact, she was above 
 jjweh weaknesses. Becoming aware of a crackling 
 sound and a sensation of smoke, she smiled sweetly 
 in her slumbers, and, turning gently on her other 
 side, with a sigh, dreamed ardently of fried ham 
 and eggs her usual breakfast. 
 
 While these events were occurring the cry of fire 
 had reached the ears of one of London's guardians ; 
 our friend Samuel Forest. That stout-hearted man 
 was seated at the time rapping the sides of his 
 sentry-box with his head, in a useless struggle with 
 sleep. He had just succumbed, and was snoring 
 out his allegiance to the great conqueror, when the 
 policeman on the beat dashed open his door and 
 shouted " Fire ! " 
 
 Sam was a calm, self-possessed man. He was no 
 more flurried by this sudden, unexpected, and fierce 
 shout of fire, than he would have been if the police- 
 man had in a mild voice made a statement of water. 
 But, although self-possessed and cool, Sam was not 
 slow. With one energetic effort he tripped up and 
 floored the conqueror with one hand, as it were, 
 while he put on his black helmet with the other.
 
 342 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 and in three minutes more the fire-escape was seen 
 coming up the lane like a rampant monster of the 
 antediluvian period. 
 
 It was received by the crowd with frantic cheers, 
 because they had just become aware that a lady was 
 asleep in one of the upper rooms, which were by that 
 time unapproachable, owing to the lower part of the 
 staircase having caught fire. 
 
 The fact was made known with a sudden look of 
 
 * 
 
 horror by Miss Tippet, who, with Emma Ward, had 
 been rescued from the first floor window by a gal- 
 lant policeman. This man having procured a ladder, 
 entered the house at considerable personal risk, and 
 carried the ladies out in safety, one after the other ; 
 an event, we may remark in passing, which is not of 
 rare occurrence at London fires, where the police are 
 noted for their efficient services and for the daring 
 of some of the members of the force, many of whom 
 have received medals and other rewards for acts of 
 personal daring in attempting to save life before the 
 firemen had arrived on the ground. 
 
 Having put Miss Tippet and Emma in a place of 
 security, the policeman was about to make a des- 
 perate attempt to reach the upper floor by rushing 
 through the flames, when the escape came up and 
 rendered it unnecessary. 
 
 Dozens of tongues and hundreds of voices directed 
 Sam Forest to the right window. He pointed his
 
 AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR -PAGE
 
 THE LONDON FlKE BRIGADE. 343 
 
 escape towards it, but so vigorous was the uninvited 
 assistance lent by the crowd that the head of the 
 machine went crashing through it and dashed the 
 frame into the middle of the room. 
 
 To say that Miss Deemas was horror-struck by 
 such an awakening would be to use a mild expres- 
 sio^?. Her strong mind was not strong enough to 
 prevent her strong body from trembling like an 
 aspen leaf, as she lay for a few moments unable to 
 cry or move. Suddenly she believed that she was 
 dreaming, and that the instrument which had burst 
 through her window was a nightmare or a guillotine, 
 and she made dreadful efforts to pinch herself awake 
 without success. Next moment a man's head, 
 looking very grim in the light of a bull's-eye lamp, 
 appeared at the top of the guillotine. So far this 
 was in keeping with her idea ; but when the head 
 leapt into the room, followed by its relative body, 
 and made a rush at her, Miss Deemas cast courage 
 and philosophy to the dogs, gave herself over to 
 abject fear, uttered a piercing shriek, dipped her 
 head under the bedclothes, and, drawing her knees 
 up to her mouth, clasped her hands over them in 
 agony. 
 
 " Come, ma'am, don't take on so ; no time to lose ; 
 floor's goin' down !" said Sam. He coughed as he 
 said it, for the smoke was getting thicker ever} 1 
 moment.
 
 344 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Shriek upon shriek was the only answer vouch- 
 safed by the terrified Eagle. A wild cheer from the 
 mob outside seemed to be a reply of encouragement 
 to her ; but it was not so : it was called forth by the 
 sudden appearance of a fire-engine dashing round 
 the corner of the lane. 
 
 " Be quiet, my good lady," said Sam Forest in a 
 voice of tenderness ; but if his voice was tender his 
 actions were the reverse, for it was now a matter of 
 life or death ; so he grasped the Eagle, bedclothes 
 and all, in his arms, and bore her to the window. 
 
 It is probable that this act revived in Miss 
 Deemas some reminiscences of her childhood, for 
 she suddenly straightened herself out and struggled 
 violently, after the manner of those sweet little ones 
 who won't be made to sit on nurse's knees. Being 
 a tall heavy woman, she struggled out of Sam's 
 grasp and fell to the floor; but her victory was 
 short-lived. Another moment and that bold man 
 had her round the waist, in a grasp from which she 
 could not free herself. Sam was considerate, how- 
 ever, and polite even in this extremity. He begged 
 pardon as he wrapped the bedclothes round his 
 victim, and lifting her into the head of the escape, 
 let her go. 
 
 No swoop that the Eagle ever made (mentally) 
 down upon base, unworthy, arrogant man, was at all 
 comparable to the descent which she made (phy-
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 345 
 
 sically) on that occasion into the arms of an expectant 
 fireman ! She held her breath, also the blankets, 
 tightly, as she went down like a lightning-flash, and 
 felt that she was about to be dashed to pieces ; but 
 to her surprise soft cushions received her, and she 
 was immediately borne, by another of these despe- 
 rate men in helmets, into an adjoining house, and 
 left unhurt in the arms of her sympathetic friend 
 Miss Tippet. 
 
 " Oh, my dear, dear Julia ! " exclaimed Miss 
 Tippet, shutting the door of the room into which 
 they had been ushered, and assisting her friend to 
 disentangle herself from the bedclothes. " Oh ! what 
 a mercy we Ve not all been roasted alive like beef- 
 steaks or oh ! what a sight you are, my darling ! 
 You must have got it coming down that dreadful 
 thing the what 's-'is-name, you know. Shall I 
 ring for water ? " 
 
 " Tut, nonsense ! " exclaimed the Eagle, panting 
 as well from nervous excitement as exhaustion; 
 "you are always so fussy, Emelina. Please assist 
 me to tie this string, Miss Ward." 
 
 " Yes, I know I 'm fussy, dear Julia ! " exclaimed 
 Miss Tippet, bustling nervously about the room; 
 " but I can't help it, and I 'm so thankful for ; 
 but it was so bold in these noble fellows to risk their 
 lives to " 
 
 "Noble fellows!" shouted Miss- Deeiuas with
 
 346 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 flashing eyes ; " d' you call it noble to pull me out 
 of bed, and roll me in a blanket and shoot me down 
 a a I don't know what, like a sack of coals? 
 Noble fellows, indeed ! Brutes ! " 
 
 Here Miss Deemas clasped her hands above her 
 head in a passion of conflicting feelings, and, being 
 unable to find words for utterance, burst into a flood 
 of tears, dropped into a chair, and covered her face 
 with both hands. 
 
 " Dear, dear, darling Julia ! " said Miss Tippet 
 soothingly. 
 
 " Don't speak to me ! " sobbed the Eagle pas- 
 sionately, and stamping her foot ; " I can't bear to 
 think of it." 
 
 " But you know, dear," persevered her friend, 
 "they could not help being being what d'you 
 call it ? energetic, you know, for it was not rough. 
 We should all have been roasted to death but for 
 them, and I feel very, very grateful to them. I shall 
 respect that policeman as long as I live." 
 
 " Ah, sure an' he is a dacent boy now," said Matty 
 Merryon, who entered the room just then ; " the way 
 he lifted you an' Miss Emma up an' flung ye over 
 his showlder, as aisy as if ye was two bolsters, was 
 beautiful to look at ; indade it was. Shure it remim- 
 bered me o' the purty pottery ye was readiii' just the 
 other night, as was writ by O'Dood or O'Hood " 
 
 " Hood," suggested Miss Tippet.
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 347 
 
 " P'r'aps it was," said Matty ; " he 'd be noiie the 
 worse of an before his name anyhow. But the 
 pottery begood with 
 
 ' Take her tip tinderly, lift her with care/ 
 
 if I don't misremimber." 
 
 " Will you hold your tongue ! " cried the Eagle, 
 Leoking up suddenly and drying her eyes. 
 
 " Surely, miss," said Matty, with a toss of her 
 head ; " anything to plaaze ye." 
 
 It is due to Matty to say that, while the policeman 
 was descending the ladder with her mistress, she 
 had faithfully remained to comfort and encourage 
 Emma ; and after Emma was rescued she had quietly 
 descended the ladder without assistance, having pre- 
 viously found time to clothe herself in something a 
 little more ample and appropriate than a bolster ! 
 
 But where was David Boone all this time ? Bather 
 say, where was he not ? Everywhere by turns, and 
 nowhere long, was David to be seen, in the frenzy 
 of his excitement. Conscience-smitten for what he 
 had done, or rather intended to do, he ran wildly 
 about, making the most desperate efforts to extin- 
 guish the fire. 
 
 No one knows what he can do till he is tried. 
 That is a proverb (at least if it is not it ought to be) 
 which embraces much deep truth. The way in which 
 David Boone set personal danger at defiance, and 
 seemed to regard suffocation by smoke or roasting
 
 348 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 by fire as terminations of life worth courting, was 
 astounding, and rendered his friends and neighbours 
 dumb with amazement. 
 
 David was now on the staircase among the fire- 
 men, fighting his way up through fire and smoke, 
 for the purpose of saving Miss Tippet, until he was 
 hauled forcibly back by Dale or Baxmore, who 
 were in the thick of it as usual Anon, down in 
 the basement, knee-deep in water, searching for 
 the bodies of his two shopmen, both of whom were 
 standing comfortably outside, looking on. Pre- 
 sently, he was on the leads of the adjoining house, 
 directing, commanding, exhorting, entreating the 
 firemen there to point their branch at the "blue 
 bedroom." Soon after, he was in the street, tear- 
 ing his hair, shouting that it was all his fault ; that 
 he did it, and that it would kill him. 
 
 Before the fire was put out, poor Boone's eye- 
 lashes and whiskers were singed off; little hair was 
 left on his head, and that little was short and 
 frizzled. His clothes, of course, were completely 
 soaked ; in addition to which, they were torn almost 
 to shreds, and some of his skin was in the same 
 condition. At last he had to be forcibly taken in 
 charge, and kept shut up in an adjoining house, 
 from the window of which he watched the destruc- 
 tion of his property and his hopes. 
 
 Almost superhuman efforts had been made by
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BKIGADE. 349 
 
 the firemen to save the house. Many a house in 
 London had they saved that year, partially or 
 wholly ; as, indeed, is the case every year, and 
 many thousands of pounds worth of property had 
 they rescued ; but this case utterly defied them. So 
 well had the plot been laid ; so thoroughly had the 
 Combustibles been distributed and lubricated with 
 inflammable liquids, that all the engines in the 
 metropolis would have failed to extinguish that 
 fire. 
 
 David Boone knew this, and he groaned in spirit. 
 The firemen knew it not, and they worked like 
 heroes. 
 
 There was a shout at last among the firemen to 
 * look out !" It was feared one of the partition 
 walls was coming down, so each man beat a hasty 
 xetreat. They swarmed out at the door like bees, 
 and were all safe when the wall fell all safe, but 
 one, Joe Corney, who, being a reckless man, took 
 things too leisurely, and was knocked down by the 
 falling bricks. 
 
 Moxey and Williams ran back, and carried him 
 out of danger. Then seeing that he did not recover 
 consciousness, although he breathed, they carried 
 him at once to the hospital The flames of the 
 burning house sprang up, just then, as if they 
 leaped in triumph over a fallen foe ; but the 
 polished surface of poor Joe's helmet seemed to
 
 350 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 flash back defiance at the flames as they bore him 
 away. 
 
 After the partition wall fell, the fire sank, and in 
 the course of a few hours it was extinguished 
 altogether. But nothing whatever was saved, and 
 the firemen had only the satisfaction of knowing 
 that they had done their best, and had preserved 
 the adjoining houses, which would certainly have 
 gone, but for their untiring energy. 
 
 By this time, David Boone, besides being mad, 
 was in a raging fever. The tenant of the house to 
 which he had been taken was a friend, as well as a 
 neighbour of his own, a greengrocer, named Mrs. 
 Craw, and she turned out to be a good Samaritan, 
 for she insisted on keeping Boone in her house, and 
 nursing him ; asserting stoutly, and with a very red 
 face (she almost always asserted things stoutly, and 
 with a red face) that Mister Boone was one of 'er 
 best an' holdest friends, as she wouldn't see 'im go 
 to a hospital on charity which she despised, so she 
 did as long as there was a spare bed in her 'ouse, 
 so there was which it wasn't as long as could be 
 wished, considerin' Mister Boone's height ; but that 
 could be put right by knockin' out the foot-board, 
 and two cheers, so it could and as long she had 
 one copper to rub n another ; no, though she was 
 to be flayed alive for her hospitality. By which 
 round statement, Mrs- Craw was understood to
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 351 
 
 imply a severe rebuke to Mrs. Grab, another 
 greengrocer over the way (and a widow) who had 
 been heard to say, during the progress of the fire, 
 that it served Boone right, and that she wouldn't 
 give him a helping hand in his distress on any 
 account whatever. 
 
 *-~"Why Mrs. Grab was so bitter and Mrs. Craw so 
 humane is a matter of uncertainty ; but it was 
 generally believed that the former having had a 
 matrimonial eye on Boone, and that Boone having 
 expressed general objections to matrimony, besides 
 having gone of late to Mrs. Craw for his vegetables 
 had something to do with it. 
 
 Next day, D. Gorman happened, quite in a casual 
 way of course, to saunter into Pool-thing Lane ; and 
 it was positively interesting to note as many 
 people did note -the surprise and consternation 
 with which he received the news of the fire from 
 the people at the end of the lane who first met him, 
 and who knew him well 
 
 "Wery sad, ain't it, sir?" said a sympathetic 
 barber. " He was sitch a droll dog too. He '11 be 
 quite a loss to the neighbourhood ; won't he, sir ? " 
 
 " I hope he won't," said Gorman, loud enough to 
 be heard by several persons who lounged about their 
 doors. " I hope to see him start fresh, an' git on 
 better than ever, poor fellow ; at least, I '11 do all / 
 can to help him."
 
 352 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Ah ! you Ve helped him already, sir, more than 
 once, I believe ; at least so he told me," said the 
 barber, with an approving nod. 
 
 " Well, so I have," returned Gorman modestly ; 
 " but he may be assured that any trifle he owes me 
 won't be called for just now. In fact, my small 
 loan to him is an old debt, which I might have got 
 any time these last six years, when he was flourish- 
 ing; so, I'm not going to press him now, poor 
 fellow. He 's ill, you say 2 " 
 
 " Yes, so I 'm told ; raither serious too." 
 " That 's very sad ; where is he ?" 
 " With Mrs. Craw, sir, the greengrocer." 
 " Ah, 1 11 go and see him. Good -day." 
 Gorman passed on, with as much benignity 
 thrown into his countenance as it could contain ; 
 and the barber observed, as he re-entered his 
 shop, that " that man was a better fellow than he 
 looked." 
 
 But Gorman's intentions, whatever they might 
 have been, were frustrated at that time ; for he 
 found Boone in high fever, and quite delirious. He 
 did not, however, quit the house without putting, as 
 he expressed it, at least one spoke in his wheel ; 
 for he conducted himself in such a way towards 
 Mrs. Craw, and expressed so much feeling for her 
 friend " and his," that he made quite a favourable 
 impression on that worthy woman. He also left a
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 353 
 
 sovereign, wherewith to purchase any little luxuries 
 for the sick man, that might be conducive to his 
 health and comfort, and went away with the assur- 
 ance that he would look in to inquire for him as 
 often as he could.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 SHOWS HOW WILLIE WILLDERS IN HIS DIFFICULTIES SOUGHT COt'XSSt 
 OF MR. TIPPET. 
 
 MR. THOMAS TIPPET, beaming and perspiring as 
 of old, was standing at his bench, chisel in hand, and 
 Willie Willders was standing with his back to the 
 fire, and his legs pretty wide apart ; not because he 
 preferred that dfyage attitude, but because Chips and 
 Puss were asleep side by side between his feet. 
 
 It must not be supposed that although Willie had 
 changed so much since the first day he stood there, 
 an equal change had taken place in Mr. Tippet. By 
 no means. He was a little stouter, perhaps, but in 
 all other respects he was the same man. Not a hair 
 greyer, nor a wrinkle more. 
 
 The workshop, too, was in exactly the same state, 
 only a little more crowded in consequence of numer- 
 ous models having been completed and shelved 
 during the last seven years. There was, however, 
 something new in the shape of a desk with some 
 half- finished plans upon it ; for Willie had gradu-
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 355 
 
 ally introduced a little genuine engineering into the 
 business. 
 
 At first, naturally enough, the boy had followed 
 his employer's lead, and, as we have said before, 
 being very ingenious, as well as enthusiastic, had 
 entered with all his heart and head into the absurd 
 Scnemes of his patron ; but as he became older he 
 grew wiser. He applied himself to reading and 
 study at home in the evenings with indomitable 
 perseverance. 
 
 The result of his application was twofold. In 
 the first place he discovered that he was very igno- 
 rant, and that there existed a huge illimitable field 
 of knowledge worth entering on seriously. His 
 early training having been conducted (thanks to 
 iris mother) " in the fear of the Lord," he regarded 
 things that are spiritual, and have God and man's 
 duty to Him for their object, as part the chief part 
 of that great field of knowledge ; not as a separate 
 field which may or may not be entered on according 
 to taste. In the second place, he began to discover 
 that his kind-hearted employer was a monomaniac. 
 In other words, that, although sane enough in all 
 other matters, he was absolutely mad in regard to 
 mechanical discoveries and inventions, and that most 
 of the latter were absolutely nonsensical ! 
 
 This second discovery induced him to prosecute his 
 studies with all the more energy.in order that he might
 
 356 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE 0* 
 
 be prepared for the battle of life, in case 
 connexion with Mr. Tippet should be dissolved. 
 
 Hia studies naturally took an engineering turn, 
 and, being what is termed a thorough-going fellow, 
 he did not rest until he had dived into mathematics 
 so deep that we do not pretend to follow him, even 
 in the way of description. Architecture, surveying, 
 shipbuilding, and cognate subjects, claimed and 
 obtained his earnest attention ; and year after year, 
 on winter nights, did he sit at the side of the fire in 
 the little house at Notting Hill, adding to his stores 
 of knowledge on these subjects ; while his meek old 
 mother sat darning socks or patching male attire os, 
 the other side of the fire with full as much persever- 
 ance and assiduity. One consequence of this was, 
 that Willie Willders, having begun as a Jack-of-all 
 trades, pushed on until he became a philosopher- 
 of-all-trades, and of many sciences too, so that it 
 would have been difficult to find his match between 
 Charing Cross and Primrose HilL 
 
 And Willie was not changeable. True to his first 
 love, he clung with all the ardour of youth to fire, 
 fire-engines, and the fire brigade. He would have 
 become a member of the latter if he could, but that 
 was in the circumstances impossible. He studied 
 the subject, however, and knew its history and its 
 working details from first to last. He did his best 
 to invent new engines and improve on old ones ; but
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 35? 
 
 in such matters he usually found that his inventions 
 had been invented, and his improvements made and 
 improved upon, long before. Such checks, however, 
 did not abate his ardour one jot. He persevered in 
 his varied courses until he worked himself into a 
 species of business which could exist only in London, 
 ifl'hich it would be difficult to describe, and which 
 its practitioner styled " polyartism " with as much 
 boldness as if the word were in Johnson's Dic- 
 tionary ! 
 
 Standing on the hearth, as we have said, Willie 
 related to his friend all he knew in regard to the 
 Cattley family, and wound up with an anxious de- 
 mand what was to be done for them. 
 
 Mr. Tippet, leaning on his bench and looking 
 into Willie's face with a benignant smile, said 
 
 " Done, my boy ? why, help 'em of course." 
 
 " Ay, but how ? " asked Willie. 
 
 " How ? " cried Mr. Tippet ; " why, by giving 'em 
 money. You are aware that I stopped their allow- 
 ance because Cattley senior went and drank it as 
 soon as he got it, and Cattley junior is able to sup- 
 port himself, and I was not until now aware that 
 the poor daughter was killing herself to support 
 her father ; but as I do know it now I '11 continue 
 the allowance and increase it, and we shall give it 
 into the daughter's hands, so that the father won't 
 be able to mis-spend it."
 
 358 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Mr. Tippet's visage glowed with ardour as he 
 stated this arrangement, but the glow was displaced 
 by a look of anxiety as he observed that Willie 
 shook his head and looked as perplexed as ever. 
 
 " If that plan would have availed I would have 
 tried it long ago," said he, with a sad smile, " for 
 my income is a pretty good one, thanks to you, 
 sir " 
 
 " Thanks to your own genius, Willie, for the 
 very remarkable and prolific offshoots which you 
 have caused to sprout from this dry old root," said 
 Mr. Tippet, interrupting, as he glanced round the 
 room with an air of affection, which showed that he 
 loved the root dearly, despite its age and dryness. 
 
 " Not the less thanks to you, sir," said Willie, in 
 the deferential tone which he had assumed involun- 
 tarily towards his patron almost from the commence- 
 ment of their intercourse ; " but Z a Miss Cattley 
 positively refuses to accept of money from any one 
 in charity, as long as she can work." 
 
 "Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Tippet, shaking his head 
 slowly, " pride, simple pride. Not laudable pride, 
 observe. She deceives herself, no doubt, into the 
 belief that it is laudable, but it is not; for, when 
 a girl cannot work without working herself into her 
 grave, it is her duty not to work, and it is the duty, 
 as well as the privilege, of her friends to support 
 her. Truth is truth, Willie, and we must not shrink
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 359 
 
 from stating it because a few illogical thinkers are 
 apt to misunderstand it, or because there are a num- 
 ber of mean-spirited wretches who would be too 
 glad to say that they could not work without injur- 
 ing their health if they could, by so doing, persuade 
 their friends to support them. What! are those 
 vcirom God has visited with weakness of body to be 
 made to toil and moil far beyond their strength in 
 order to prove that they do not belong to the class 
 of deceivers and sycophants ? Yet public opinion 
 in regard to this matter of what is called self- 
 vespect and proper pride compels many hundreds 
 \vho urgently require assistance to refuse it, and 
 dooms many of them to a premature grave, while it 
 does not shut the maw of a single one of the other 
 class. Why, sir, Miss Cattley is committing suicide \ 
 and, in regard to her father, who is dependent on 
 her, she is committing murder murder, sir !" 
 
 Mr. Tippet's eyes flashed with indignation, and he 
 drove the chisel deep down into the bench, as if to 
 give point and force to his sentiment, as well as an 
 illustration of the dreadful idea with which he con- 
 cluded. 
 
 Willie admitted that there was much truth in Mr. 
 Tippet's observations, but did not quite agree with 
 him in his sweeping condemnation of Ziza. 
 
 "However," continued Mr. Tippet, resuming his 
 }iiiet tone and benignant aspect, " I '11 consider the
 
 360 FIGHTING THK FLAMES. 
 
 matter. Yes, I '11 consider the matter, and see what 's 
 to be done for 'em." 
 
 He leaped from the bench with a quiet chuckle as 
 he said this and began to saw vigorously, while 
 Willie went to his desk in the corner and applied 
 himself to an abstruse calculation, considerably re- 
 lieved in mind, for he had unbounded belief in the 
 fertility of Mr. Tippet's imagination, and he knew 
 well that whatever that old gentleman promised he 
 would certainly fulfil.
 
 , CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 n JUST KATES THE PROVERB THAT THE BEST-LAID PLANS WILL 
 
 SOMETIMES MISCARRY. 
 
 THERE were other men besides Mr. Tippet who 
 could be true to their promises when it suited them. 
 D. Gorman was true to his, in so far as they con- 
 cerned David Boone. He visited that unfortunate 
 invalid so frequently, and brought him so many 
 little " nice things" for the alleviation of his suffer- 
 ings, and exhibited altogether such nervous anxiety 
 about his recovery, that worthy Mrs. Craw was 
 quite overwhelmed, and said, in the fulness of her 
 heart, that she never did see a kinder friend, or one 
 who more flatly gave the lie-direct to his looks, 
 which, she was bound to admit, were not prepos- 
 sessing. 
 
 But, despite his friend's solicitude, and his doctor's 
 prescriptions, and his nurse's kindness, David Boone 
 continued steadily to sink, until at last the doctor 
 gave it as his opinion that he would not recover. 
 
 One afternoon, soon after the expression of this
 
 362 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 opinion, Gorman called on his friend, and was shown 
 as usual into his chamber. It was a wet, cold, 
 stormy afternoon, and the window rattled violently 
 in its frame. 
 
 Boone was much better that afternoon. It seemed 
 as if he had just waited for the doctor to pronounce 
 his unfavourable opinion in order to have the satis- 
 faction of contradicting it. 
 
 " He 's better to-day, sir," said Mrs. Craw, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "Better!" exclaimed Gorman with a look of sur- 
 prise, " I 'm glad to hear that very glad." 
 
 He looked as if he were very sorry, but then, as 
 Mrs. Craw said, his looks belied him. 
 
 " He 's asleep now, sir ; the doctor said if he slept 
 he was on no account to be waked up, so I '11 leave 
 you to sit by him, sir, till he wakes, and, please, be 
 as quiet as you can." 
 
 Mrs. Craw left the room on tip-toe, and Gorman 
 went to the bedside and looked on the sick man's 
 wasted features with a frown. 
 
 " Ha ! you 're asleep, are you, and not to be waked 
 up eh ? Come, I '11 rouse you." 
 
 He shook him violently by the shoulder, and 
 Boone awoke with a start and a groan. 
 
 " Hope I didn't disturb you, Boone?" said his friend 
 in a quiet voice. " I came to inquire for you." 
 
 Boone started up in his bed and stared wildly at
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 363 
 
 3ome object which appeared to be at the foot of the 
 bed. Gorman started too and turned pale as his 
 ayes followed those of the invalid. 
 
 " What is it you see, Boone ?" 
 
 " There, there !" he whispered hoarsely, clutching 
 Gorman's arm as if for protection, "look, I heard 
 hiSYoice just now ; oh ! save me from that man ; he 
 he wants to kill me !" 
 
 " Come, David," said Gorman soothingly, " it 's 
 only a fancy there 's nobody there nobody in the 
 room but me." 
 
 " And who are you ?" inquired the sick man, fall- 
 ing back exhausted, while he gazed vacantly at his 
 friend. 
 
 " Don't you know me, David ?" 
 
 " No, I don't." 
 
 "Never mind, shut your eyes now and try to 
 sleep. It 11 be time to take your physic soon." 
 
 " Physic !" cried Boone, starting up in alarm, and 
 again clutching Gorman's arm. " You won't let Mm 
 give it me, will you? Oh ! say you won't, promise 
 to give it me yourself !" 
 
 Gorman promised, and a veiy slight but peculiar 
 smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he did 
 so. 
 
 Boone again sank back on his pillow, and Gorman 
 sat down on a chair beside him. His villanous 
 features worked convulsively, for in his heart be
 
 364 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 was meditating a terrible deed. That morning he 
 had been visited by Ned Hooper, who in the most 
 drunken of voices told him " that it wash 'mposh'ble 
 to git a body f r love or munny, so if 'e wanted one 
 he 'd better cut 's own throat." 
 
 His plans having miscarried in this matter, Gor- 
 man now meditated taking another and more decided 
 step. He looked at the sick man, and, seeing how 
 feeble he was, his fingers twitched as if with a desire 
 to strangle him. So strong was the feeling upon 
 him that he passed his fingers nervously about hi 
 own throat, as if to ascertain the formation of it and 
 the precise locality of the windpipe. Then his hand 
 dropped to his side, and he sat still again, while 
 Boone rolled his poor head from side to side and 
 moaned softly. 
 
 Evening drew on apace, and the shadows in the 
 sick-room gradually became deeper and deeper until 
 nothing could be seen distinctly. Still Gorman sat 
 there, with his features pale as death and his fingers 
 moving nervously ; and still the sick man lay and 
 rolled his head from side to side on the pillow. 
 Once or twice Gorman rose abruptly, but he as often 
 sat down again without doing anything. 
 
 Suddenly a ray of bright light shot through the 
 window. Gorman started and drew back in alarm. 
 It was only a lamp-lighter who had lighted one of 
 the street-lamps, and the ray which he had thus
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 365 
 
 sent into the sick-chamber passed over the bed. It 
 did not disturb Boone, for the curtains were between 
 him and it, but it disturbed Gorman, for it fell 
 on the chimney-piece and illuminated a group of 
 phials, one of which, half full of a black liquid, was 
 labelled " Poison !" 
 
 'Grbrmau started up, and this time did not sit 
 down, but with a trembling step moved to the fire- 
 place. He stretched out his hand to grasp the bottle, 
 and almost overturned it, for just at the moment his 
 own figure intercepted the ray of light, and threw 
 the spot where it stood into deep shadow. 
 
 " What's that ? " asked Boone. 
 
 " It 's only me," said Gorman, " getting you youi 
 physic. I almost upset it in the dark. Here now. 
 drink it off. I can't find the cup, but you can take 
 it out of the bottle." 
 
 " You won't let him come near when you give it, 
 will you ? " asked Boone anxiously. 
 
 " No, no ; come, open your mouth." 
 
 Boone hesitated to do so, but Gorman used a little 
 force. His hands were steady now ! His heart was 
 steeled to the deed, and the cry which Boone was 
 about to utter was choked by the liquid flowing 
 down his throat. 
 
 Gorman had flung him back with such violence 
 that he lay stunned, while the murderer replaced 
 th<a bottle on the chimney-Diece and hurried to the
 
 366 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 door. A gentle knock at it arrested him, but his in- 
 decision was momentary. He opened the door softly, 
 and going out, said to Mrs. Craw in a whisper 
 
 " He 's sleeping now. I found it hard to get him 
 to give up talking, for he waked up soon after I went 
 in ; but he 's all right now. I suppose the medicine 
 is beginning to operate ; he told me he took it him- 
 self just before I came in." 
 
 " Took it himself ! " exclaimed Mrs. Craw. " Im- 
 possible ! " 
 
 "Well, I don't know, but he's better now. I 
 would let him rest a while if I were you." 
 
 " Stay, sir ! I '11 go fetch a light," said Mrs. Craw. 
 
 " Never mind ; I know the stair well," said Gor- 
 man hurriedly; "don't mind a light; I shan't 
 want it." 
 
 He was right. If any man ever wanted darkness 
 rather than light thick, heavy, impenetrable dark- 
 ness it was D. Gorman at that time. 
 
 "Took it himself!" repeated Mrs. Craw in un- 
 abated surprise as she closed the street door. " It 's 
 impossible. He 's got no more strength than an 
 unborn hinfant. I must go an* see to this." 
 
 Lighting a candle, she went softly into the sick 
 chamber and looked at the invalid, who was ap- 
 parently asleep, but breathing heavily. She then 
 went to the chimney-piece and began to examine 
 the phials there.
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 367 
 
 ' My ! she exclaimed suddenly, with a look of 
 alarm, " if he han't bin an' drunk up all the tinctur* 
 o' rhubarb ! An' the laudanum-bottle standin' close 
 beside it too ! What a mercy he didn't drink that ! 
 Well, lucky for him there wasn't much in it, for an 
 overdose of anythink in his state would be serious." 
 ^ull of her discovery, Mrs. Craw set the candle on 
 the table, and sat down on the chair by the bedside 
 to think about it ; but the more she thought about 
 it the more puzzled she was. 
 
 " Took it himself," she said, reverting to Gorman's 
 words. " Impossible ! " 
 
 She continued to shake her head and mutter 
 " Impossible " for some time, while she stared at the 
 candle as if she expected that it would solve the 
 mystery. Then she got up and examined the bed- 
 clothes, and found that a good deal of the rhubarb 
 had been spilt on the sheets, and that a good deal 
 more of it had been spilt on Boone's chin and chest ; 
 after which her aspect changed considerably, as, 
 setting down the candle, she resumed her seat and 
 said 
 
 " Took it himself ! Impossible ! " 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Darkness ! If ever a man sought darkness in 
 vain, and found light, bright blazing light, every- 
 where, it was Gorman. At first, in a burst of 
 frenzy, he rushed away at full speed. It was well
 
 368 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 for him that the wind had increased to a hurricane 
 and the rain was blinding, else had he been stopped 
 on suspicion, so fierce was his mien, so haggard hie 
 look, so wild his race. Gradually his pace slackened, 
 and gradually as well as naturally he gravitated to 
 his old familiar haunts ; but go where he would, 
 there was light everywhere except within his own 
 breast. It was all darkness there. 
 
 It is true the sky was dark enough, for the war of 
 elements was so great that it seemed to have been 
 blotted out with ink, but the shops appeared to have 
 been lit up more brilliantly than usual. Every 
 lamp poured a flood of light around it. The lan- 
 terns of the cabs and omnibuses sent rich beams 
 of light through the air, and the air itself, laden as 
 it was with moisture, absorbed a portion of light, 
 and invested everything with a halo. Light, light ! 
 all round, and the light of conscience within render- 
 ing the darkness there visible, and shining on the let- 
 ters of a word written in dark red" MURDERER!" 
 
 Gorman tried to extinguish the light, but it was 
 a fire that would not be put out. He cursed the 
 shop- windows and the lamps for shining so brightly 
 on him ; he cursed the few people whose curiosity 
 induced them to pause and look back at him, and 
 he cursed himself for being such a fool. 
 
 On reaching Cheapside he began to recover his 
 self-possession, and to walk in the storm as other
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 369 
 
 men did. But in proportion as his composure 
 returned the enormity of his crime became more 
 apparent to him, and the word written in red 
 letters became so bright that he felt as if every 
 passer-by must read it, unless he dropt his eyes 
 to prevent their seeing through them into his 
 souiT 
 
 At London Bridge he became nervously appre- 
 hensive. Each unusually quick footstep startled 
 him. Every policeman was carefully avoided, and 
 anything approaching to a shout behind caused him 
 to start into a involuntary run. Despite his utmost 
 efforts to control himself, the strong man was un- 
 manned ; a child could have made him fly. 
 
 He was about to cross London Bridge, when he 
 observed a policeman taking shelter under the 
 parapet, and apparently watching those who passed 
 him. Gorman could not make up his mind to go 
 on, so he turned aside and descended the nearest 
 stairs. 
 
 The policeman had doubtless been watching for 
 some one, or suspected Gorman because of his 
 undecided movements, for he followed him. The 
 latter observed this and quickened his pace. The 
 instant he was hidden from his pursuer, he darted 
 away at full speed, and did not halt until he stood 
 at the foot of one of the stairs where wherries are 
 usually to be found. The sight that met his gaze 
 2 A
 
 370 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 there might have overawed the most reckless of 
 men. 
 
 A hurricane was raging, such as is not often 
 experienced in our favoured island. The wind 
 blew, not in gusts and squalls, but in one con- 
 tinuous roar, lashing the Thames into crested waves, 
 tearing ships from their moorings, and dashing 
 them against other ships, which were likewise car- 
 ried away, and swept downward with the tide. 
 Dozens of barges were sunk, and the shrieks of 
 their crews were heard sometimes rising above 
 the storm. 
 
 The gale was at its height when Gorman came 
 into full view of the Thames. A waterman, who 
 was crouching for shelter in the angle of a ware- 
 house, observed him, and came forward. 
 
 " An awful night, sir," he said. 
 
 " Yes," answered Gorman curtly. He started as he 
 spoke, for he heard, or he fancied he heard, a shout 
 behind him. 
 
 " Is that your boat ? " said he. 
 
 " It is," replied the waterman in surprise ; " you 
 don't want to go on the water on such a night, dc 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes I do," said Gorman, trembling in every 
 limb ; " come, jump in, and shove off." 
 
 At that moment a policeman came running down 
 towards them.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 371 
 
 " Are you mad ?" exclaimed the man, grasping 
 Gorman by the arm as he sprang toward the boat. 
 
 In a moment, Gorman struck him to the ground, 
 and leaping into the boat pushed off, just as the 
 policeman came up. He was whirled away in- 
 stantly. 
 
 Grasping one of the oars, he was just in time to 
 prevent the boat being dashed against one of the 
 wooden piers of a wharf. He was desperate now. 
 Shipping both oars he pulled madly out into the 
 stream, but in a few moments he was swept against 
 the port-bow of a large vessel, against the stem of 
 which the water was curling, as if the ship had been 
 breasting the Atlantic waves before a stiff breeze. 
 One effort Gorman made to avoid the collision, then 
 he leaped up, and, just as the boat struck, sprang at 
 the fore-chains. He caught them and held on, but his 
 hold was not firm ; the next moment he was rolling 
 along the vessel's side, tearing it with his nails in 
 the vain attempt to grasp the smooth hull. He 
 struck against the bow of the vessel immediately 
 behind and was swept under it. 
 
 Rising to the surface, he uttered a wild shriek, 
 and attempted to stem the current. He was & 
 powerful swimmer, and despair lent him energy to 
 buffet the waves for a short time, but he was again 
 swept away by the irresistible tide, and had almost 
 given up hope of being saved, when his forehead wa
 
 672 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 grazed by a rope which hung from a vessel's side. 
 Seizing this he held on, and with much difficulty 
 succeeded in gaining the vessel's deck. 
 
 With his safety Gorman's fear of being captured 
 returned. He hid himself behind some lumber, and 
 while in this position wrung some of the water out 
 of his clothes. In a few minutes he summoned 
 courage to look about him, and discovered that the 
 vessel was connected with the one that lay next to 
 it by a plank. No one appeared to be moving, and 
 it was so dark that he could not see more than foui 
 or five yards before him. To pass from one vessel 
 to the other was the work of a few seconds. Finding 
 that the second vessel lay moored to the quay he 
 sprang from it with all his might and alighted safely 
 on the shore. From the position of the shipping he 
 knew that he stood on the south bank of the river, 
 having been swept right across the Thames, so lie 
 had now no further difficulty in hiding his guilty 
 head in his own home.
 
 CHAPTEK XXXI. 
 
 OJ WHICH CHANGES OF FORTUNE OCCUR AND NEW LIGHTS OF VAKIOUE 
 KINDS ARISE. 
 
 TIME sped on apace, and in its train came many 
 
 To the confusion of the doctor and despite the 
 would-be murderer, David Boone recovered. But 
 that brought no relief to Gorman, whose remorse 
 increased daily, insomuch that he became, if not 
 quite, very nearly, insane, and liis fear of being 
 caught was so great that he never ventured near the 
 quarter of London in which Boone dwelt. He 
 therefore remained in ignorance of the failure of his 
 murderous attempt. What would he not have given 
 to have known the truth ! to have had the dreadful 
 word removed from the light which shone upon it 
 brighter and brighter every day until it was made 
 red-hot, as it were, and became within him as a con- 
 suming fire ! Preferring darkness to light more than 
 ever, Gorman kept in secret places during the day, 
 and only ventured out, with other human vultures
 
 374 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 at night. The wretched man feared the darkness 
 too, although he sought it, and what between the 
 darkness that he feared yet courted, and the light 
 that he feared and fled from, and the light within 
 that he feared but could not fly from, he became one 
 of the most miserable of all the outcasts in London. 
 
 As for his deep-laid plans, they were all scattered 
 to the winds. In the presumption of ignorance he 
 had fancied that he knew his own power, and so in 
 one sense he did, but he was not aware of his own 
 want of power. He knew, indeed, that he had the 
 brute courage to dare and do anything desperate 01 
 dastardly, but he did not know that he lacked the 
 moral courage to bear the consequences of his deeds 
 The insurance policies, therefore, lay unclaimed 
 even uncared for ! 
 
 Another change for the worse effected by time 
 <vas the death of Loo Auberly. Gradually and 
 gently her end approached. Death was so slow in 
 corning that it was long expected, yet it was so very 
 slow that when it came at last it took her friends by 
 surprise. James Auberly continued stiff and stately 
 to the last. He refused to believe that his child 
 was dying, and spared no expense to provide every- 
 thing that money could procure to restore her health. 
 He also refused to be reconciled to his son Fred, who 
 had succeeded in his loved profession beyond his 
 expectations, and who had sought, again and again,
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 375 
 
 to propitiate his father. At last Fred resolved to go 
 abroad and study the works of the ancient masters. 
 He corresponded regularly with Loo for some time, 
 but his letters suddenly ceased to make their appear- 
 ance, and nothing was heard of him for many 
 months. 
 
 'During the long and weary illness Loo had three 
 friends whose visits were to her soul like gleams of 
 sunshine on a cloudy day Miss Tippet, Emma 
 Ward, and a poor artificial-flower maker named 
 Ziza Cattley. 
 
 Those three, so different yet so like, were almost 
 equally agreeable to the poor invalid. Miss Tippet, 
 was " so funny but so good," and Emma's sprightly 
 nature seemed to charm away her pain for a time ; 
 while grave, gentle, earnest Ziza made her happy 
 during her visits, and left a sensation of happiness 
 after she went away. All three were equally un- 
 tiring in talking with her about the " old, old story" 
 the love of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Yes, it comes to this at last, if not at first, with 
 all of us. Even the professed infidel, laugh as he 
 may in the spring-tide of life, usually listens to that 
 " old, old story" when life's tide is very low, if not 
 with faith at least with seriousness, and with a hope 
 that it may be true. May be true ! Why, if the in- 
 fidel would only give one tithe of the time and trouble 
 and serious inquiry to the investigation of that same
 
 376 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 old story and its credentials that he gives so freely 
 to the study of the subtleties of his art or profession, 
 he would find that there is no historical fact what- 
 ever within his ken which can boast of anything 
 like the amount or strength of evidence in favour of 
 its truth, that exists in favour of the truth of the 
 story of the Life, Death, and Eesurrection of Jesus 
 Christ our Lord. 
 
 When Loo died the stateliness and stiffness of 
 James Auberly gave way, and the stern man, 
 leaning his head upon the coffin, as he sat alone 
 in the darkened room, wept as if he had been a little 
 child. 
 
 There was yet another change brought about by 
 that great overturner Time. But as the change to 
 which we refer affects those who have yet to take a 
 prominent part in our tale, we will suffer them to 
 speak for themselves. 
 
 One afternoon, long after the occurrence of those 
 changes to which reference has just been made, Mrs. 
 Willders, while seated quietly at her own fireside 
 (although there was no fire there, the month being 
 June), was interrupted in her not unusual though 
 innocent occupation of darning socks by the abrupt 
 entrance of her son Frank, who flung his cap on the 
 table, kissed his mother on the forehead, and theD 
 flung himself on the sofa, which piece of furniture 
 being old and decrepit, groaned under his weight.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 377 
 
 "Mother," he exclaimed with animation, "I've 
 got strange news to tell you. Is Willie at home ?" 
 
 " No, but I expect him every minute. He pro- 
 mised to come home earlier to-day, and won't be 
 long, for he is a boy of his word." 
 
 Mrs. Willders persisted in calling her strapping 
 Sons "boys," despite the evidence to the contrary 
 on their cheeks and chins. 
 
 "Here he comes!" cried Frank, as a rapid step 
 was heard. 
 
 Next moment the door burst open and Willie, 
 performing much the same ceremony that Frank had 
 done, and in a wonderfully similar way, said he had 
 come home with something strange to tell, though 
 not altogether strange either, as his mother, he said, 
 knew something about it already. 
 
 Mrs. Willders smiled and glanced at Frank. 
 
 "Which is to begin first?" she asked. 
 
 " What ! do you know about it too ?" cried Willie, 
 turning to his brother. 
 
 " Know about what ?" said Frank. " You have not 
 told me what it is ; how can I answer you ? " 
 
 " About Mr. Auberly," said Willie. 
 
 Frank said that he knew nothing new or peculiar 
 about him, except that he was no, he wouldn't say 
 anything bad of him, for he must be a miserable 
 man at that time. 
 
 " But out with your news, Willie," he added,
 
 378 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " mine will keep ; and as yours is, according to your- 
 self, partly known already to my mother, it 's as well 
 to finish off one subject before we begin to another. 
 
 "Oh, then, you have news too, have you?" said 
 Willie. 
 
 Frank nodded. 
 
 " Strange coincidence !" exclaimed Willie. 
 
 " Did you ever hear of a coincidence that was 
 not strange, lad ? Go on with your news, else I '11 
 begin before you." 
 
 Thus admonished, Willie began. 
 
 " Oh, mother, you 're a nice deceiver ; you 're a sly 
 old lady, ain't you ? and you sit there with a face as 
 meek and sweet and smiling as if you had nevel 
 deceived anybody in all your life, not to speak oi 
 your two sons. fy ! " 
 
 As Mrs. Winders still smiled and went on with 
 her knitting serenely, without vouchsafing a reply, 
 Willie continued with an off-hand air 
 
 " Well then, I may as well tell you that I have 
 just had an interview with uncle Auberly hallo! 
 you seem surprised." 
 
 Mrs. Willders was indeed surprised. Her serenity 
 of aspect fled in an instant. 
 
 " Oh, Willie, how comes it that you know ? I 'm 
 sure I did not mean to tell you. I promised I 
 never would. I must have let it out inadvert- 
 ently, or when I was asleep."
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 379 
 
 " Make yourself quite easy, mother," said Willie ; 
 "I'll explain it all presently. Just go on with 
 your knitting, and don't put yourself into a state." 
 
 The widow, recovering herself a little, resumed 
 her work, and Frank, who had listened with an 
 amused smile up to this point supposing that his 
 *brother was jesting elongated his face and opened 
 his eyes wider and wider as he listened. 
 
 "You must know," resumed Willie, "that I re- 
 ceived a note from Mr. Auberly last night, asking 
 me to call on him some time this afternoon. So I 
 went, and found him seated in his library. Poor 
 man, he has a different look now from what he had 
 when I went last to see him. You know I have 
 hardly ever seen him since that day when ] 
 bamboozled him so about * another boy' that he 
 expected to call But his spirit is not much im- 
 proved, I fear. 'Sit down, Mr. Willders,' he said. 
 ' I asked you to call in reference to a matter which 
 I think it well that the parties concerned should 
 understand thoroughly. Your brother Frank, I am 
 told, has had the presumption to pay his addresses 
 to Miss Ward, the young lady who lives with my 
 relative, Miss Tippet.' ' Yes, Mr. Auberly,' I replied, 
 1 and Miss Ward has had the presumption to accept 
 him"' 
 
 " It was wrong of you to answer so, Willie," in- 
 terrupted Mrs. Willders, shaking her head.
 
 380 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " Wrong, mother ! how could I help it ? Was 1 
 going to sit there and hear him talk of Frank's pre- 
 sumption as if he were a chimney-sweep ? " 
 
 "Mr. Auberly thinks Miss Ward above him in 
 station, and so deems his aspiring to her hand pre- 
 sumption," replied the widow gently. " Besides, 
 you should have remembered the respect due to 
 age." 
 
 " Well, but, mother," said Willie, defending him- 
 self, " it was very impudent of him, and I did speak 
 very respectfully to him in tone if not in words. 
 The fact is I felt nettled, for, after all, what is Miss 
 Ward ? The society she mingles in is Miss Tippet's 
 society, and that 's not much to boast of ; and her 
 father, I believe, was a confectioner no doubt a rich 
 one, that kept his carriage before he failed, and left 
 his daughter almost a beggar. But riches don't make 
 a gentleman or a lady either, mother; I'm sure 
 you 've often told me that, and explained that edu- 
 cation, and good training, and good feelings, and 
 polite manners, and consideration for others, were 
 the true foundations of gentility. If that be so, 
 mother, there are many gentlemen born who are not 
 gentlemen bred, and many lowly born who " 
 
 "Come, lad, don't bamboozle your mother with 
 sophistries," interrupted Frank, " but go on to the 
 point, and don't be so long about it." 
 
 "Well, mother," resumed Willie, "Mr. Auberly
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 381 
 
 gave me a harder rebuke than you have done, for he 
 made no reply to my speech at all, but went on as 
 quietly and coolly as if I had not opened my lips. 
 ' Now/ said he, ' I happen to have a particular 
 regard for Miss Ward. I intend to make her my 
 heir, and I cannot consent to her union with a man 
 who has nothing! 'Mr. Auberly,' said I (and I 
 assure you, mother, I said this quite respectfully), 
 'my brother is a man who has little money, no 
 doubt, but he has a good heart and a good head and 
 a strong arm ; an arm, too, which has saved life 
 before now.' I stopped at that, for I saw it went 
 home. ' Quite true,' he replied ; ' I do not forget 
 that he saved my lost child's life; but but the 
 thing is outrageous that a penniless man should 
 wed the lady who is to be my heir ! No, sir, I sent 
 for you to ask you to say to your brother from me, 
 that however much I may respect him I will not 
 consent to this union, and if it goes on despite my 
 wishes I shall not leave Miss Ward a shilling.' He 
 had worked himself up into a rage by this time, and 
 as I felt I would only make matters worse if I spoke, 
 I held my tongue ; except that I said I would de- 
 liver his message at once, as I expected to meet my 
 brother at home. He seemed sorry for having been 
 ao sharp, however, and when I was aboiit to leave 
 him he tried to smile, and said, ' I regret to have to 
 speak thus to you, sir, but I felt it to be my duty.
 
 382 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 You talk of meeting your brother to-night at home ; 
 do you not live together ? ' ' No, sir,' I replied ; ' my 
 brother lodges close to his station, and I live with 
 my mother in Notting Hill/ 
 
 "' Notting Hill!' he cried, falling back in his chair 
 as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. ' Your 
 mother ' he gasped, ' Mrs. Willder my sister-in- 
 law the waterman's widow ? ' 
 
 " ' A sailor's widow, sir,' said I, ' who is proud of 
 the husband, who rose to the top of his profession.' 
 
 " ' Why did you deceive me, sir ? ' cried Mr. 
 Auberly, with a sudden frown. ' I would have un- 
 deceived you,' said I, ' when we first met, but you 
 dismissed me abruptly at that time, and would 
 not hear me out. Since then, I have not thought 
 it worth while to intrude on you .in reference 
 ence to so small a matter for I did not know till 
 this day that we are related.' He frowned harder 
 than ever at this, and bit his lip, and then said, 
 ' Well, young man, this will make no difference, I 
 assure you. I desire you to convey my message to 
 your brother. Leave me now.' I was just on the 
 point of saying Good-bye, uncle, but he covered his 
 face with his hands, and looked so miserable, that 
 I went out without a word more. There, you 've 
 got the whole of my story. What think you of 
 it?" 
 
 " It 's a curious one, and very unexpected, at
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 383 
 
 least by me," said Frank, " though, as you said, part 
 of it must have been known to mother, who, no 
 doubt, had good reasons for concealing it from us ; 
 but I rather think that my story will surprise you 
 more, and it 's a better one than yours, Willie, in 
 this respect, that it is shorter." 
 * "Come then, out with it," said Willie, with a 
 laugh ; " why, this is something like one of the 
 Arabian Nights' Entertainments." 
 
 " Well, mother," said Frank, laying his hand 
 gently on the widow's shoulder, "you shan't darn 
 any more socks if I can help it, for I 'm a man of 
 fortune now ! " 
 
 " How, Frank ? " said Mrs. Willders, with a 
 puzzled look. 
 
 " The fact is, mother, that Mrs. Denman, the poor 
 old lady whom I carried down the escape, I forget 
 how many years ago, is dead, and has left me her 
 fortune, which, I believe, amounts to something like 
 twenty thousand pounds ! " 
 
 " You don't mean that ! " cried Willie, starting 
 up. 
 
 " Indeed I do," said Frank earnestly. 
 
 " Then long life to ye, my boy !" cried Willie, 
 wringing his brother's hand, " and success to the old 
 well, no, I don't exactly mean that, but if she were 
 alive I would say my blessing on the old lady. I 
 wish you joy, old fellow ! I say, surely the stately
 
 384 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 man won't object to the penniless fireman now ha ! 
 ha ! Well, it 'a like a dream ; but tell us all about 
 it, Frank." 
 
 " There is very little to tell, lad. I got a very 
 urgent message the day -before yesterday to go to 
 see an old lady who was very ill I obtained leave 
 for an hour and went at once, not knowing who it 
 was till I got there, when I found that it was 
 Mrs. Denman. She looked very ill, and I do 
 assure you I felt quite unmanned when I looked 
 into her little old face. ' Young man,' she said, in 
 a low voice, ' you saved my life ; I am dying, and 
 have sent for you to thank you. God bless you.' 
 She put out her thin hand and tried to shake 
 mine, but it was too feeble; she could only 
 press her fingers on it That was all that passed, 
 and I returned to the station feeling quite in low 
 spirits, I do assure you. Well, next day a little 
 man in black called, and said he wished to have 
 a few words with me. So I went out, and he 
 introduced himself as the old lady's lawyer, told 
 me that she was gone, and that she had, almost 
 with her last breath, made him promise to go, the 
 moment she was dead, and see the fireman who had 
 saved her life, and tell him that she had left her 
 fortune to him. He congratulated me; said that 
 there were no near relations to feel aggrieved or to 
 dispute my rights, and that, as soon as the proper
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 385 
 
 legal steps had been taken the debts and legacies 
 paid, etc. he would have the pleasure of handing 
 over the balance, which would probably amount to 
 twenty thousand pounds." 
 
 " It 's like a dream," said Willie. 
 
 "So it is," replied Frank, "but it's well that 
 it ^ not a dream, for if I had been the penni- 
 less man that Mr. Auberly thinks me, I would 
 have been obliged in honour to give up Emma 
 Ward." 
 
 " Give her up ! " exclaimed Willie in amazement. 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why ! because I could not think of standing in 
 the way of her good fortune." 
 
 " Oh, Frank I oh, Blazes," said Willie sadly, " has 
 money told on you so fearfully already ? Do you 
 think that she would give you up for the sake of 
 Auberly's dross?" 
 
 " I believe not, lad ; but but well never mind, 
 we won't be troubled with the question now. But, 
 mother, you don't seem to think much of my good 
 fortune." 
 
 " I do think much of it, Frank ; it has been sent 
 to you by the Lord, and therefore is to be received 
 with thanksgiving. But sudden good fortune of this 
 kind is very dangerous. It makes me anxious as 
 well as glad." 
 
 At that moment there came a loud knocking at 
 2 B
 
 386 FIGHTING THE FLAMES A TALE OF 
 
 the door, which startled Mrs. Willders, ana caused 
 Willie to leap up and rush to open it. 
 
 Frank rose and put on his cap with the quiet 
 promptitude of a man accustomed to alarms. 
 
 "That's a fire, mother; the kind of knock is 
 quite familiar to me now. Don't be alarmed; we 
 hear that kind of thing about two or three times a 
 day at the station ; they knew I was here, and have 
 sent a messenger." 
 
 " A fire ! " cried Willie, running into the room 
 in great excitement. 
 
 " Tut, lad," said Frank, with a smile, as he nodded 
 to his mother and left the room, " you 'd never do 
 for a fireman, you're too excitable. Where's 
 the messenger? ah, here you are. Well, where 
 is it ? " 
 
 " Tooley Street," exclaimed a man, whose condi 
 tion showed that he had run all the way. 
 
 Frank started, and looked very grave, as he said 
 hurriedly to his brother 
 
 " Good-night, lad. I won't likely be able to get 
 out to-morrow to talk over this matter of the fortune. 
 Fires are usually bad in that neighbourhood. Look 
 well after mother. Good-night." 
 
 In anothei moment he was gone. 
 
 And well might Frank look grave, for when a 
 fireman is called to a fire in Tooley Street, or any
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 387 
 
 part of the docks, he knows that he is about to enter 
 into the thickest of the Great Fight. To ordinary 
 fires he goes light-heartedly as a bold trooper 
 gallops to a skirmish, but to a fire in the neigh- 
 bourhood of the docks he goes with something of 
 the feeling which must fill the breast of every brave 
 BMier on the eve of a great battle.
 
 OHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 TELLS OF THE GREAT FIRE IN TOOLEY STREET, AND OF WHAT BEFKL 
 SOME OF THE PERSONAGES OF OUR TALE. 
 
 ONE of those great calamities which visit us once 
 or twice it may be in a century, descended upon 
 London on Saturday the 22d of June 1861. It was 
 the sudden, and for the time overwhelming, attack 
 of an old and unconquerable enemy, who found us, 
 as usual, inadequately prepared to meet him. 
 
 Fire has fought with us and fed upon us since we 
 became a nation, and yet, despite all our efforts, its 
 flames are at this day more furious than ever ! 
 There are more fires daily in London now than 
 there ever were before. Has this foe been properly 
 met ? is a question which naturally arises out of this 
 fact. Keferring to the beautiful organization of the 
 present Fire Brigade, the ability of its chiefs and 
 the courage of its men, the answer is, Yes, decidedly. 
 But referring to the strength of the brigade ; to the 
 munitions of war in the form of water ; to the means 
 of conveyance in the form of mains ; to the system
 
 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 389 
 
 af check in the shape of an effective Act in reference 
 to partition- walls and moderately-sized warehouses ; 
 to the means of prevention in the shape of pro- 
 hibitions and regulations in regard to inflammable 
 substances referring to all these things, the answer 
 to Jiie question, " Has the foe been properly met ? " 
 is emphatically, No. 
 
 It is not sufficient to reply that a special inquiry 
 is being made into this subject now ; that steps are 
 being actually taken to remedy the evils of our 
 system (or rather of our want of system) of fire pre- 
 vention. Good may or may not result from this 
 inquiry: that is yet to be seen. Meanwhile the 
 public ought to be awakened more thoroughly to 
 the fact that an enemy is and always has been 
 abroad in our land, who might be, if we chose, more 
 effectively checked ; who, if he has not yet attacked 
 our own particular dwelling, may take us by surprise 
 any day when we least expect him, and who does 
 at all times very materially diminish our national 
 wealth and increase our public burdens. Perhaps 
 we should not style /ire an enemy, but a mutinous 
 servant, who does his work faithfully and well, 
 except when neglected or abused ! 
 
 About five o'clock on Saturday afternoon intelli- 
 gence of the outbreak of fire in Tooley Street reached 
 the head-quarters of the brigade in Watling Street. 
 
 Fire in Tooley Street ! The mere summons lent
 
 390' FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 energy to the nerves and spring to the muscles of 
 the firemen. Not that Tooley Street in itself is 
 more peculiarly dangerous in regard to fire than are 
 the other streets of shops in the City. But Tooley 
 Street lies in dangerous neighbourhood. The streets 
 between it and the Thames, and those lying im- 
 mediately to the west of it, contain huge warehouses 
 and bonded stores, which are filled to suffocation 
 with the, " wealth of nations." Dirty streets and 
 narrow lanes here lead to the fountain-head of wealth 
 untold almost inconceivable. The elegant filigree- 
 work of West-End luxury may here be seen un- 
 smelted, as it were, and in the ore. At the same 
 time the rich substances on which fire feeds and 
 fattens are stored here in warehouses which (as they 
 are) should never have been built, and in proximities 
 which should never have been permitted. Examine 
 the wharves Brook's Wharf, Beal's Wharf, Cotton's 
 Wharf, Chamberlain's Wharf, Freeman's Wharf, 
 Griffin's Wharf, Stanton's Wharf, and others. In- 
 vestigate the lanes Hay's Lane, Mill Lane, Mor- 
 gan's Lane ; and the streets Bermondsey, Dockhead, 
 Pickle Herring Street, Horsleydown, and others, 
 . and there, besides the great deposit and commission 
 warehouses which cover acres of ground, and are 
 filled from basement to ridge-pole with the com- 
 modities and combustibles of every clime, you will 
 find huge granaries and stores of lead, alum, drugs
 
 THE LONDON FIEE BRIGADE. 391 
 
 tallow, chicory, flour, rice, biscuit, sulphur, and salt- 
 petre, mingled with the warehouses of cheese-agents, 
 ham-factors, provision-merchants, tarpaulin-dealers, 
 oil and colour merchants, etc. In fact, the entire 
 region seems laid out with a view to the raising of 
 a -bonfire or a pyrotechnic display on the grandest 
 conceivable scale ! 
 
 Little wonder, then, that the firemen of Watling 
 Street turned out all their engines, including two of 
 Shand and Mason's new land-steam fire-engines, 
 wliich had at that time just been brought into 
 action. Little wonder that the usual request for a 
 man from each station was changed into an urgent 
 demand for every man that could possibly be spared. 
 
 The fire began in the extensive wharves and 
 warehouses known as Cotton's Wharf, near London 
 Bridge, and was first observed in a warehouse over 
 a counting-room by some workmen, who at once 
 gave the alarm, and attempted to extinguish it with 
 some buckets of water. They were quickly driven 
 back, however, by the suffocating smoke, which soon 
 filled the various floors so densely that no one could 
 approach the seat of the fire. 
 
 Mr. Braidwood, who was early on the spot, saw at 
 a glance that a pitched battle was about to be fought, 
 and, like a wise general, concentrated all the force at 
 his command. Expresses were sent for the more 
 distant brigade engines, and these came dashing up
 
 392 FIGHTING THE FT AMES : A TALE OF 
 
 one after another, at full speed. The two powerful 
 steam floating- engines which guard the Thames 
 from fire were moored off the wharf, two lengths of 
 hose attached to them, and led on shore and brought 
 to bear on the fire. A number of land- engines took 
 up a position in Tooley Street, ready for action, but 
 these were compelled to remain idle for nearly an 
 hour before water was obtainable from the fire-plugs ! 
 London ! with all your wealth and wisdom, 
 how strange that such words can be truly written 
 of you ! 
 
 The vessels which were lying at the wharf dis- 
 charging and loading were hauled out of danger into 
 the stream. 
 
 In course of time the engines were in full play, 
 but the warehouse burst into flames from basement 
 to roof in spite of them, and ere long eight of the 
 great storehouses were burning furiously. The 
 flames made rapid work of it, progressing towards 
 the line of warehouses facing the river, and to the 
 lofty building which adjoined on the Tooley Street 
 side. 
 
 Dale and his men were quickly on the scene of 
 action, and had their engine soon at work. Before 
 long, Frank Willders joined them. They were play- 
 ing in at the windows of a large store, which was 
 burning so furiously that the interior appeared to be 
 red-hot.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 393 
 
 " Eelieve Corney, lad," said Dale, as Frank came 
 forward. 
 
 " Och ! it 's time," cried Corney, delivering up the 
 branch to Frank and Moxey ; " sure Baxmore and 
 me are melted intirely." 
 
 Frank made no reply. He and Moxey directed 
 die branch which the others resigned, turning their 
 backs as much as possible on the glowing fire, and 
 glancing at it over their shoulders ; for it was too 
 hot to be faced. 
 
 Just then the Chief of the brigade came up. 
 
 " It 's of no use, sir," said Dale ; "we can't save 
 these." 
 
 "True, Dale, true," said Mr. Braid wood, in a 
 quick, but quiet tone ; " this block is doomed. Take 
 your lads round to the nor'- east corner ; we must 
 try to prevent it spreading." 
 
 As he surveyed the progress of the fire, with a 
 cool, practical eye, and hurried off to another part of 
 the battle-field to post his men to best advantage, 
 little did the leader of the forces think that he was 
 to be the first to fall that day ! 
 
 Engines were now playing on the buildings in all 
 directions ; but the flames were so fierce that they 
 made 110 visible impression on them, and even in 
 the efforts made to check their spreading, little 
 success appeared to attend them at first. Ware- 
 house after warehouse ignited.
 
 394 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 To make matters worse, a fresh breeze sprang up, 
 and fanned the flames into redoubled fury ; so that 
 they quickly caught hold of vast portions of the 
 premises occupied by the firm of Scovell and Co. 
 
 " There 's not a chance," said Frank to Dale, 
 while he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, 
 and sat down for a few seconds to recover breath ; 
 for he had just issued from a burning building, 
 driven back by heat and smoke, "There's not a 
 chance of saving that block ; all the iron doors that 
 were meant to keep the fire from spreading, have 
 been left open by the workmen ! " 
 
 " Chance or no chance, we must do our best," 
 said Dale. " Come, lad, with me ; I think we may 
 get at a door inside the next warehouse, through 
 which we might bring the branch to bear. Are you 
 able ? " 
 
 "All right," exclaimed Frank, leaping up, and 
 following his leader through the smoke. 
 
 " Have a care !" cried Frank, pausing as a tremen- 
 dous explosion caused the ground to tremble under 
 their feet. 
 
 "It's sulphur or saltpetre," said Dale, pushing 
 on ; " there are tons upon tons of that stuff in the 
 cellars all round. 
 
 This was indeed the case. It was said that up- 
 wards of 2000 tons of saltpetre were in the vaults at 
 the time ; and several explosions had already taken
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 395 
 
 place, though fortunately, without doing injury to 
 any one. 
 
 Dale had already partially examined the ware- 
 house, into which he now led Frank ; and, therefore, 
 although it was full of smoke, he moved rapidly 
 a^sng the narrow and intricate passages between the 
 bales of goods until he reached an iron door. 
 
 " Here it is ; we '11 open this and have a look," 
 he said, grasping the handle and swinging the heavy 
 door open. 
 
 Instantly, a volume of black smoke drove both 
 the men back, almost suffocating them. They 
 could not speak ; but each knew that the re-closing 
 of that iron door was all- important, for the fire had 
 got nearer to it than Dale had imagined. 
 
 They both darted forward ; but were again driven 
 back, and had to rush to the open air for breath. 
 Frank recovered before his comrade, in consequence 
 of the latter having made a more strenuous and 
 prolonged effort to close the door which he had so 
 unfortunately opened. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, he sprang into 
 the warehouse again ; regained and partially closed 
 the door, when the stifling smoke choked him, and 
 he fell to the ground. A few seconds later, Dale 
 followed him, and found him there. Applying his 
 great strength with almost superhuman energy to 
 the door, it shut with a crash, and the communica
 
 396 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 fcion between the buildings was cut off ! Dale then 
 seized Frank by the collar, and dragged him into 
 the open air, when he himself almost sank to the 
 ground. Fresh air, however, soon restored them 
 both, and in a few minutes they were actively 
 engaged at another part of the building. 
 
 Bravely and perseveringly though this was done, 
 it availed not, for nothing could withstand the fury 
 of the fire. The warehouse caught, and was soon 
 a glowing mass like the others, while the flames 
 raged with such violence, that their roaring drowned 
 the shouting of men, and the more distant roar of 
 the innumerable multitude that densely covered 
 London Bridge, and clustered on every eminence 
 from which a safe view of the great fire could be 
 obtained. 
 
 The floating fire-engines had now been at work 
 for some time, and the men in charge of their 
 branches were suffering greatly from the intense 
 heat. About this time, nearly seven o'clock in the 
 evening, Mr. Braidwood went to these men to give 
 them a word of encouragement. He proceeded 
 down one of the approaches to the river from Tooley 
 Street, and stopped when nearly half way to give 
 some directions, when a sudden and tremendous 
 explosion took place, shaking the already tottering 
 walls, which at this place were of great height. A 
 cry was raised, " Kun ! the wall is falling ! " Every
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 397 
 
 one sprang away at the word. The wall bulged out 
 at the same time ; and one of the firemen, seeing 
 that Mr. Braidwood was in imminent danger, made 
 a grasp at him as he was springing from the spot ; 
 but the heavy masses of brick-work dashed him 
 away, and, in another moment the gallant chief of 
 the^ Fire Brigade lay buried under at least fifteen 
 feet of burning ruin. 
 
 Any attempt at rescue would have been impos- 
 sible, as well as unavailing, for death must have 
 been instantaneous. The hero's warfare with the 
 flames, which had lasted for upwards of thirty- eight 
 years, was ended ; and his brave spirit returned to 
 God who gave it. 
 
 That a man of no ordinary note had fallen was 
 proved, before many hours had passed, by the deep 
 and earnest feeling of sorrow and sympathy which 
 was manifested by all classes in London, from the 
 Queen downwards, as well as by the public funeral 
 which took place a few days afterwards, at which 
 were present the Duke of Sutherland, the Earl of 
 Caithness, the Eev. Dr. Gumming, and many gentle- 
 men connected with the insurance offices ; the com- 
 mittee and men of the London Fire Brigade; also 
 those of various private and local brigades; the 
 secretary and conductor )f the Eoyal Society for the 
 Protection of Life from Fire ; the mounted Metro- 
 politan and City police ; the London Rifle Brigade
 
 S9P FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 (of which Mr. Braidwood's three sons were mem- 
 bers) ; the superintendents and men of the various 
 water companies ; and a long string of private and 
 mourning carriages : to witness the progress of 
 which hundreds of thousands of people densely 
 crowded the streets and clustered in the windows and 
 on every available eminence along the route ; while 
 in Cheapside almost all the shops were shut and 
 business was suspended; and in the neigbourhood 
 of Shoreditch toiling thousands of artisans came 
 forth from factory and workshop to " see the last of 
 Braidwood," whose name had been so long familiar 
 to them as a " household word." The whole heart 
 of London seemed to have been moved by one feel- 
 ing, and the thousands who thronged the streets 
 " had" (in the language of one of the papers of the 
 day : ' gathered together to witness the funeral, not 
 01 a dead monarch, not of a great warrior, not of a 
 distinguished statesman, not even of a man famor.s 
 in art, in literature, or in science, but simply ot 
 James Braidwood, late superintendent of the London 
 Kire-Kngine Establishment" a true hero, and one 
 wno \vas said, by those who knew him best, to be 
 an earnest Christian man. 
 
 But at the moment of his fall his men were 
 engaged in the thick of battle. Crushing though 
 the news of his death was, there was no breathing- 
 time to realize it
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 399 
 
 The fierce lieat had not only driven back the fire- 
 men on shore, but had compelled the floating fire- 
 engines to haul off, in consequence of the flaming 
 matter which poured over the wharf wall and covered 
 the surface of the river the entire length of the 
 burning warehouses ; while the whole of the car- 
 ridge-way of Tooley Street was ankle- deep in hot 
 oil and tallow. After the fall of their Chief, Messrs. 
 Henderson and Togo, two of the principal officers of 
 the brigade, did their utmost to direct the energies 
 of the men. 
 
 Night closed in, and the flames continued to rage 
 in all their fury and magnificence. News of this 
 great fire spread with the utmost rapidity over the 
 metropolis. Indeed, it was visible at Hampstead 
 while it was yet daylight. When darkness set in, 
 one of the most extraordinary scenes that London 
 ever produced was witnessed. From all quarters the 
 people came pouring in, on foot, in omnibus, cab. 
 pluasure-van, cart, and waggon all converging to 
 London Bridge. At nine o'clock the Bridge and 
 its approaches presented all the appearance of the 
 Epsom road on the Derby day. Cabs and busses 
 plied backwards and forwards on the Bridge all 
 night, carrying an unlimited number of passengers 
 at 2d. and 3d. each, and thousands of persons spent 
 the night in thus passing to and fro. The railway 
 terminus, Billingsgate Market, the roof of the Coal
 
 400 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 Exchange, the Monument, the quays, the windows, 
 the house-tops, the steeples, and the chimney- 
 stalks all were crowded with human beings, whose 
 eager upturned faces were rendered intensely bright 
 against the surrounding darkness by the fierce glare 
 of the fire. But the Thames presented the most 
 singular appearance of all, now reflecting on its 
 bosom the inky black clouds of smoke; anon the 
 red flames, as fresh fuel was licked up by the de- 
 vouring element, and, occasionally, sheets of silver 
 light that flashed through the chaos when sulphur 
 and saltpetre explosions occurred. Mountains of 
 flame frequently burst away from the mass of burn- 
 ing buildings and floated upward for a few moments, 
 and the tallow and tar which flowed out of the 
 warehouses floated away blazing with the tide and 
 set the shipping on fire, so that land and water alike 
 seemed to be involved in one huge terrific confla- 
 gration. 
 
 The utmost consternation prevailed on board the 
 numerous craft on the river in the vicinity of the 
 fire, for thick showers of sparks and burning mate- 
 rials fell incessantly. Gusts of wind acted on the 
 ruins now and then, and at such moments the gaunt 
 walls, cracked and riven out of shape, stood up 
 glowing with intense white heat in the midst of a 
 sea of fire from which red flames and dark clouds of 
 smoke were vomited, as from the crater of some
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 401 
 
 mighty volcano, with a roar that mingled with the 
 shouts of excited thousands, and drowned even the 
 dull incessant thumpings of the engines that worked 
 in all directions. 
 
 Moored alongside of Chamberlain's Wharf was a 
 small sloop. Little blue blisters of light broke out 
 on her rigging ; soon these increased in size, and in 
 a few minutes she was on fire from stem to stern. 
 Immediately after, there came a barge with flowing 
 sails, borne on the rising tide. She passed too near 
 to the conflagration. Her crew of three men became 
 panic-stricken, and lost control of her. At sight of 
 this a great shout was raised, and a boat put off 
 and rescued the crew ; but almost before they were 
 landed their barge was alight from stem to stern. 
 The tremendous cheer that burst from the excited 
 multitude at sight of this rescue rose for a moment 
 above the roaring of the conflagration. Then an- 
 other barge was set on fire by the blazing tallow 
 which floated out to her, but she was saved by being 
 scuttled. 
 
 In the midst of such a scene it was to be expected 
 that there would be damage to life and limb. The 
 firemen, besides being exposed to intense heat for 
 hours, were almost blinded and choked by the smoke 
 emitted from the burning pepper more especially 
 the Cayenne of which there was a large quantity 
 in the warehouses. Some of the men who were 
 9 c
 
 402 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALK OF 
 
 Corking the engines fell into the river and were 
 drowned. A gentleman who was assisting the fire- 
 men had his hand impaled on an iron spike. A poor 
 Irishman had his neck broken by the chain of the 
 floating engine, and several of the police force and 
 others were carried to hospital badly burned and 
 otherwise injured. 
 
 Some of the casualties occurred in places where 
 only a few persons were there to witness them, but 
 others were enacted on the river and on spots which 
 were in full view of the vast multitudes on London 
 Bridge. A boat containing five men put off to 
 collect the tallow which floated on the water, but it 
 got surrounded by tallow which had caught fire, and 
 the whole of its occupants were either burned to 
 death or drowned. Later in the night a small skiff 
 rowed by a single man was drawn by the tide into 
 the vortex of the fire. Another boat ran out and 
 saved the man, but a second boat which was pulled 
 off by a single rower for the same purpose was drawn 
 too near the fire, and its brave occupant perished. 
 So eager were the multitude on the bridge to witness 
 these scenes that some of themselves were forced 
 over the parapet into the river and drowned. 
 
 Comical incidents were strangely mingled with 
 these awful scenes, although it is but justice to say 
 \he prevailing tone of the crowd was one of solemnity. 
 Itinerant vendors of gingerbeer, fruit, cakes, and
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE, 403 
 
 coffee ranged themselves along the pavements and 
 carried on a brisk trade especially after the public- 
 houses were closed, many of which, however, taking 
 advantage of the occasion, kept open door all night. 
 
 Among these last was the ' Angel,' belonging to 
 German. 
 
 That worthy was peculiarly active on this occa- 
 sion. He never neglected an opportunity of turning 
 an honest penny, and, accordingly, had been engaged 
 from an early hour in his boat collecting tallow ; of 
 which plunder a considerable amount had been 
 already conveyed to his abode. 
 
 Besides Gorman, several of the other personages 
 of our tale found their way to the great centre of 
 attraction, London Bridge, on that night. Among 
 them was John Barret, who, on hearing of the fire, 
 had left his snug little villa and pretty little wife to 
 witness it. 
 
 He had already made one or two cheap trips on 
 one of the omnibuses, and, about midnight, got down 
 and forced his way to a position near the south side 
 of the bridge. Here he was attracted to a ginger- 
 beer barrow which an unusually adventurous man 
 had pushed through the crowd into a sheltered corner. 
 He forced his way to it, and, to his amazement, found 
 the owner to be his former friend Ned Hooper ! 
 
 " Hallo ! Barret." " Why, Ned !" were the excla- 
 mations that burst simultaneously from their lips.
 
 404 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 " This is a strange occupation," said Barret, with 
 a smile. 
 
 " Ah, it may seem strange to you, no doubt, but 
 it's familiar enough to me," replied Ned, with a 
 grin. 
 
 The demand for beer was so great at this time 
 that Ned could not continue the conversation. 
 
 " Here, boy," he said to an urchin who stood near, 
 " you draw corks as fast as you can and pour out the 
 beer, and I '11 give you a copper or two and a swig 
 into the bargain." 
 
 The boy accepted the post of salesman with 
 alacrity, and Ned turned to his friend and seized his 
 hand. 
 
 " Barret," said he, in a low, earnest voice, " if I 
 succeed in holding out I own my salvation, under 
 God, to you. I Ve tasted nothing but gingerbeer 
 for many a long day, and I really believe that I 
 have got my enemy down at last. It 's not a lucra- 
 tive business, as you may see," he added with a sad 
 smile, glancing at his threadbare garments, " nor a 
 very aristocratic one ' 
 
 " My dear Ned," cried Barret, interrupting, and 
 suddenly thrusting his hand into his pocket. 
 
 " No, Barret, no," said Ned firmly, as he laid his 
 hand on the other's arm; " I don't want money ; I Ve 
 given up begging. You gave me your advice once, 
 and I have taken that it has been of more value to
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 405 
 
 me than all the wealth that is being melted into 
 thin air, John, by yonder fire " 
 
 Ned was interrupted at this point by a burst 
 of laughter from the crowd. The cause of their 
 mirth was the appearance of a tall, thin, and very 
 lugubrious-looking man who had come on the bridge 
 t<$ see the fire. He had got so excited that he had 
 almost fallen over the parapet, and a policeman had 
 kindly offered to escort him to a place of safety. 
 
 "Why, what d'ye mean? what d'ye take me 
 for?" cried the tall man angrily; 'I'm an honest 
 man ; my name is David Boone ; I Ve only come to 
 see the fire ; you Ve no occasion to lay hold o' me !" 
 
 " I know that," said the policeman ; " I only want 
 to get you out of danger. Come along now." 
 
 Just then a thickset man with a red handkerchief 
 tied round his head came forward to the stall and 
 demanded a glass of beer. The moment his eyes 
 encountered those of David Boone he became pale 
 as death and staggered back as if he had received a 
 deadly blow. 
 
 "Is that you, Gorman?" cried David, in a voice 
 and with an expression of amazement. 
 
 Gorman did not reply, but gazed at his former 
 friend with a look of intense horror, while his chest 
 heaved and he breathed laboriously. Suddenly he 
 uttered a loud cry and rushed towards the river. 
 
 Part of the crowd sprang after him, as if with a
 
 406 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 view to arrest him, or to see what he meant to do 
 Iii the rush Barret and Boone were carried away. 
 
 A few moments later a deep murmur of surprise 
 rose from the thousands of spectators on the bridge, 
 for a boat was seen to dash suddenly from the shore 
 and sweep out on the river. It was propelled by a 
 single rower a man with a red kerchief tied round 
 his head. The murmur of the crowd suddenly 
 increased to a shout of alarm, for the man was row- 
 ing his boat straight towards a mass of tallow which 
 floated and burned on the water. 
 
 " Hold on ! " " Look out ahead 1 " shouted several 
 voices, while others screamed " Too late ! " " He 's 
 gone ! " and then there arose a wild cry, for the man 
 rowed straight into the centre of the burning mass 
 and was enveloped in the flames. For one moment 
 he was seen to rise and swing his arms in the air 
 then he fell backwards over the gunwale of his boat 
 and disappeared in the blazing flood. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 Fiercer and fiercer raged the fire. The night 
 passed the day came and went, and night again 
 set in yet still the flames leaped and roared in 
 resistless fury, and still the firemen fought them 
 valiantly. And thus they fought, day and night, 
 hand to hand, for more than a fortnight, before the 
 battle was thoroughly ended and the victory gained. 
 
 How the firemen continued to do their desperate
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 407 
 
 work, day and night, almost without rest, it is im- 
 possible to tell Frank Willders said that, after the 
 first night, he went about his work like a man in a 
 dream. He scarcely knew when, or how, or where, 
 he rested or ate. He had an indistinct remem- 
 brance of one or two brief intervals of oblivion, 
 w*hen he supposed he must have been asleep, but 
 the only memory that remained strong and clear 
 within him was that of constant, determined fighting 
 with the flames. And Willie Willders followed him 
 like his shadow ! clad in a coat and helmet borrowed 
 from a friend in the Salvage Corps. Willie' fought 
 in that great fight as if he had been a trained fire- 
 man ! 
 
 On the fourth day, towards evening, Frank was 
 ordered down into a cellar where some tar-barrels 
 were burning. He seized the branch, and was about 
 to leap down the stair when Dale stopped him. 
 
 " Fasten the rope to your belt," he said. 
 
 Frank obeyed without speaking, and then sprang 
 forward, while Dale himself followed, ordering 
 Corney, Baxmore, and one or two others, to hold on 
 to the ropes. Willie Willders also ran in, but was 
 met by such a dense cloud of smoke that he was 
 almost choked. Hushing back he shouted " Haul on 
 the ropes !" 
 
 The men were already hauling them in, and in a 
 few seconds Dale and Frank were dragged by theii
 
 408 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 waist-belts into the open air, the former nearly, and 
 the latter quite, insensible. 
 
 In a few minutes they both recovered, and anothei 
 attempt was made to reach the fire in the cellar, but 
 without success. 
 
 The public did not witness this incident. The 
 firemen were almost surrounded by burning ruins, 
 and none but comrades were there. 
 
 Indeed, the public seldom see the greatest dangers 
 to which the fireman is exposed. It is not when he 
 makes his appearance on some giddy height on a 
 burning and tottering house, and is cheered enthusi- 
 astically by the crowd, that his courage is most 
 severely tried. It is when he has to creep on hands 
 and knees through dense smoke, and hold the 
 branch in the face of withering heat, while beams 
 are cracking over his head, and burning rubbish is 
 dropping around, and threatening to overwhelm him 
 it is in such circumstances, when the public know 
 nothing of what is going on, and when no eye sees 
 him save that of the solitary comrade who shares 
 his toil and danger, that the fireman's nerve and 
 endurance are tested to the uttermost. 
 
 After leaving the cellar, Dale and his men went 
 to attempt to check the fire in a quarter where it 
 threatened to spread, and render this the greatest 
 of modern conflagrations equal to the great one of 
 1666.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 409 
 
 "We might reach it from that window," said 
 Dale to Frank, pointing to a house, the sides of 
 which were already blistering, and the glass crack- 
 ing with heat. 
 
 Frank seized the branch and gained the window 
 in question, but could not do anything very effective 
 from that point. He thought, however, that from 
 a window in an adjoining store he might play 
 directly on a house which was in imminent danger. 
 But the only means of reaching it was by passing 
 over a charred beam, thirty feet beneath which lay 
 a mass of smouldering ruins. For one moment he 
 hesitated, uncertain whether or not the beam would 
 sustain his weight. But the point to be gained was 
 one of great importance, so he stepped boldly for- 
 ward, carrying the branch with him. As he ad- 
 vanced, the light of the fire fell brightly upon him, 
 revealing his tall figure clearly to the crowd, which 
 cheered him heartily. 
 
 At that moment the beam gave way. Willie, 
 who was about to follow, had barely time to spring 
 back and gain a firm footing, when he beheld his 
 brother fall headlong into the smoking ruins below. 
 
 In another moment he had leaped down the 
 staircase and was at Frank's side. Baxmore, Dale, 
 Corney, and others, followed, and, in the midst of 
 fire and smoke, they raised their comrade in their 
 arms and bore him to a place of safety.
 
 *10 PiGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 No one spoke, but a stretcher was quickly brought, 
 and Frank was conveyed in a state of insensibility 
 to the nearest hospital, where his manly form 
 shattered, burned, and lacerated was laid on a 
 bed. He breathed, although he was unconscious 
 and evinced no sign of feeling when the surgeons 
 examined his wounds. 
 
 A messenger was despatched for Mrs. Willders, 
 and Willie remained to watch beside him while his 
 jomrades went out to continue the fight.
 
 CHAPTER XXX11L 
 
 FOR many months Frank Willders lay upon his 
 bed unable to move, and scarcely able to speak. 
 His left leg and arm had been broken, his face and 
 hands were burned and cut, and his once stalwart 
 form was reduced to a mere wreck. 
 
 During that long and weary time of suffering he 
 had two nurses who never left him who relieved 
 each other day and night ; smoothed his pillow and 
 read to him words of comfort from God's blessed 
 book. These were, his own mother and Emina 
 Ward. 
 
 For many weeks his life seemed to waver in the 
 balance, but at last he began to mend. His frame, 
 however, had been so shattered that the doctors held 
 out little hope of his ever being anything better 
 than a helpless cripple ; so, one day, he said to 
 Emma 
 
 " I have been thinking, Emma, of our engage- 
 ment."
 
 412 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 He paused and spoke sadly as if with great 
 difficulty. 
 
 " And I have made up my mind," he continued, 
 " to release you." 
 
 " Frank !" exclaimed Emma. 
 
 "Yes, dear. No one can possibly understand 
 what it costs me to say this, but it would be the 
 worst kind of selfishness were I to ask you to marry 
 a poor wretched cripple like me." 
 
 "But what if I refuse to he released, Frank?" 
 said Emma with a smile ; " you may, indeed, be a 
 cripple, but you shall not be a wretched one if it is 
 in my power to make you happy ; and as to your 
 being poor what of that ? I knew you were not 
 rich when I accepted you, and you know I have a 
 very, very small fortune of my own which will at least 
 enable us to exist until you are able to work again." 
 
 Frank looked at her in surprise, for he had not 
 used the word poor with reference to money. 
 
 " Has mother, then, not told you anything about 
 my circumstances of late ?" he asked. 
 
 " No, nothing ; what could she tell me that I do 
 not already know ?" said Emma. 
 
 Frank made no reply for a few moments, then he 
 said with a sad yet gratified smile " So you refuso 
 to be released ?" 
 
 " Yes, Frank, unless you insist on it," replied 
 Emma.
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 413 
 
 Again the invalid relapsed into silence and shut 
 his eyes. Gradually he fell into a quiet slumber, 
 from which, about two hours later, he awoke with a 
 start under the impression that he had omitted to 
 say something. Looking up he found that his 
 mather had taken Emma's place. He at once asked 
 why she had not told Emma about the change in 
 his fortunes. 
 
 " Because I thought it best," said Mrs. Willders, 
 " to leave you to tell her yourself, Frank." 
 
 " Well, mother, I depute you to tell her now, and 
 pray do it without delay. I offered to give her up 
 a short time ago, but she refused to listen to me." 
 
 " I 'm glad to hear it," replied the widow with a 
 smile. " I always thought her a good sensible 
 girl" 
 
 "Hm! so did I," said Frank, "and something 
 more." 
 
 Once again he became silent, and, as an inevit- 
 able consequence, fell fast asleep. In which satis- 
 factory state we will leave him while we run briefly 
 over the events of his subsequent history. 
 
 In direct opposition to the opinion of all his 
 doctors, Frank not only recovered the use of all his 
 limbs, but became as well and strong as ever and 
 the great fire in Tooley Street left no worse marks 
 upon him than a few honourable scars. 
 
 His recovery, however was tedious. The state
 
 414 FIGHTING THE FLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 of his health, coupled with the state of his fortune, 
 rendered it advisable that he should seek the bene- 
 fit of country air, so he resigned his situation in the 
 London Fire Brigade resigned it, we may add, with 
 deep regret, for some of his happiest days had been 
 spent in connexion with that gallant corps. 
 
 Rambling and fishing among the glorious moun- 
 tains of Wales with his brother Willie, he speedily 
 regained health and strength. While wandering 
 with delight through one of the most picturesque 
 scenes of that wild and beautiful region, he came 
 suddenly one day on a large white umbrella, under 
 which sat a romantic- looking man, something be- 
 tween an Italian bandit and an English sportsman, 
 who was deeply engrossed with a sheet of paper on 
 which he was depicting one of the grandest views 
 in the splendid pass of Llanberis. At this man 
 Willie rushed with a shout of surprise, and found 
 that he answered at once to the name of Fred 
 Auberly ! Fred was thrown into such a state of 
 delight at the sight of his old friends that he cap - 
 sized the white umbrella, packed up his paints, and 
 accompanied them to their inn. Here, on being 
 questioned, he related how that, while in Eome he 
 had been seized with a fever which laid him pros - 
 trate for many weeks ; that, on his recovery, h<; 
 wrote to Loo and his father, but received no reply 
 from either of them ; that he afterwards spent somr
 
 THE LONDON FIKE BRIGADE. 4 1 f> 
 
 months in Switzerland making more than enough 
 of money with his brush to " keep the pot hoi ling," 
 and that, finally, he returned home to find that deai 
 Loo was dead, and that the great Tooley Street fire 
 had swept away his father's premises and ruined 
 hj.m. As this blow had, however, been the means 
 of softening his father and effecting a reconciliation 
 between them, he was rather glad than otherwise, 
 he said, that the fire had taken place. Fred did not 
 say although he might have said it with truth 
 that stiff and stately Mr. Auberly had been reduced 
 almost to beggary, and that he was now dependent 
 for a livelihood on the very palette and brushes which 
 once he had so ruthlessly condemned to the flames ! 
 
 After this trip to Wales, Frank returned home 
 and told his mother abruptly that he meant to 
 marry Emma Ward without delay, to which Mrs. 
 Willders replied that she thought he was quite right. 
 As Emma appeared to be of the same mind the 
 marriage took place in due course. That is to say, 
 Miss Tippet and Emma managed to put it off as 
 long as possible and to create as much delay as they 
 could. When they had not the shadow of an excuse 
 for further delay not so much as a forgotten band 
 or an omitted hook of the voluminous trousseau 
 the great event was allowed to go on or, to " come 
 off." 
 
 Many and varied were the faces that appeared
 
 416 FIGHTING THE iTLAMES : A TALE OF 
 
 at the church on that auspicious occasion. Mr. 
 Auberly was there to give away the bride, and 
 wonderfully cheerful he looked, too, considering that 
 he gave her to the man whom he once thought 
 so very unworthy of her. Willie was groomsman, 
 of course, and among the bridesmaids there was a 
 little graceful, dark-eyed and dark-haired creature, 
 whom he regarded as an angel or a fairy, or some- 
 thing of that sort, and whom everybody else, except 
 Frank and Mrs. Willders, thought the most beautiful 
 girl in the church. In the front gallery, just above 
 this dark-eyed girl, sat an elderly man who gazed at 
 her with an expression of intense affection. His 
 countenance was careworn and had a somewhat dis- 
 sipated look upon it. Yet there was a healthy glow 
 011 it too, as if the dissipation were a thing of the 
 distant past. The dark-eyed girl once or twice stole 
 a glance at the elderly man and smiled on him with 
 a look of affection quite as fervent as his own. 
 There was a rather stylish youth at this man's 
 elbow whose muscles were so highly developed that 
 they appeared about to burst his superfine black 
 coat. He was observed to nod familiarly to the 
 dark-eyed girl more than once, and appeared to be 
 in a state of considerable excitement ready, as it 
 were, to throw a somersault over the gallery on the 
 slightest provocation. 
 
 Of course Miss Tippet was there in " such a love
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 417 
 
 of a bonnet," looking the picture of happiness. So 
 was Mr. Tippet, beaming all over with joy. So was 
 Miss Deemas, scowling hatred and defiance at the 
 men. So was David Boone, whose circumstances 
 had evidently improved, if one might judge from the 
 self-satisfied expression of his face and the splendour 
 of "his attire. John Barret was also there, and, close 
 beside him stood Ned Hooper, who appeared to 
 shrink modestly from observation, owing, perhaps, 
 to his coat being a little threadbare. But Ned had 
 110 occasion to be ashamed of himself, for his face 
 and appearance showed clearly that he had indeed 
 been enabled to resist temptation, and that he had 
 risen to a higher position in the social scale than a 
 vendor of ginger-beer. 
 
 In the background might have been seen Hopkins 
 tall and dignified as ever, with Matty Merryon at 
 hb side. It was rumoured " below-stairs" that these 
 two were engaged, but as the engagement has not 
 yet advanced to anything more satisfactory, we hold 
 t hat to be a private matter with which we have no 
 right to meddle. 
 
 Close to these stood a group of stalwart men in 
 blue coats and leathern belts, and with sailor-like 
 caps in their hands. These men appeared to take a 
 lively interest in what was going forward, and evi- 
 dently found it difficult to restrain a cheer when 
 Frank took Emma's hand. Once or twice during 
 2 n
 
 418 FIGHTING TUB FLAMES : A TALK OF 
 
 the service one or two other men of similar appear- 
 ance looked into the church as if in haste, nodded to 
 their comrades, and went out again, while one of 
 them appeared in the organ loft with a helmet hang- 
 ing on his arm and his visage begrimed with char- 
 coal, as if he were returning from a recent fire. This 
 man, feeling, no doubt, that he was not very present- 
 able, evidently wished to see without being seen. 
 He was very tall and stout, and was overheard to 
 observe, in very Irish tones, that " it was a purty 
 sight intirely." 
 
 When the carriage afterwards started from the 
 door, this man who bore a strong resemblance to 
 Joe Corney sprang forward and called for three 
 cheers, which call was responded to heartily by all, 
 but especially by the blue-coated and belted fellows 
 with sailor-like caps, who cheered their old comrade 
 and his blooming bride with those deep and thrilling 
 tones which can be produced in perfection only by 
 the lungs and throats of true-blue British tars ! 
 
 Now, it must not be supposed that this was the 
 end of Frank's career. In truth it was only the 
 beginning of it, for Frank Willders was one of those 
 men who know how to make a good use of money. 
 
 His first proceeding after the honeymoon was to 
 take a small farm in the suburbs of London. He 
 had a tendency for farming, and he resolved at least 
 to play at it if he could make nothing by it There
 
 THE LONDON FIRE BRIGADE. 419 
 
 was a small cottage on the farm, not far from the 
 dwelling-house. This was rented by Willie, and 
 into it he afterwards introduced Ziza Cattley as Mrs. 
 William Willders. The widow inhabited another 
 small cottage not a hundred yards distant from it, 
 bu>-ehe saw little of her own home except at night, 
 being constrained to spend most of her days with 
 one or other of her " boys." 
 
 As the farm was near a railway station, Willie 
 went to town every morning to business Saturdays 
 and Sundays excepted and returned every evening. 
 His business prospered and so did Mr. Tippet's. 
 That eccentric old gentleman had, like Mr. Auberly, 
 been ruined by the great fire, but he did not care so 
 he said because the other business kept him going ' 
 He was not aware that Willie's engineering powers 
 turned in all the money of that other business, and 
 Willie took care never to enlighten him, but helped 
 him as of old in planning, inventing, and discovering, 
 to the end of his days. 
 
 There was one grand feature which Frank intro- 
 duced into his suburban establishment which we 
 must not omit to mention. This was a new patent 
 steam fire-engine. He got it not only for the pro- 
 tection of his own farm, but, being a philanthropic 
 man, for the benefit of the surrounding district 
 and he trained the men of his farm and made 
 them expert firemen. Willie was placed in com
 
 420 FIGHTING THE FLAMES. 
 
 mand of this engine, so that the great wish of his 
 early years was realized! There was not a fire 
 within ten miles round them at which Willie's 
 engine was not present ; and the brothers continued 
 for many years to fight the flames together in that 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 As for stout George Dale, and Sturdy Baxmore, 
 and facetious Joe Corney with his comrades Moxey, 
 Williams and Mason, and Sam Forest, those heroes 
 continued to go on the even tenor of their way, fight- 
 ing more battles with the flames in six months than 
 were fought with our human enemies by all our red- 
 ooats and blue-jackets in as many years, and with- 
 out making any fuss about it too, although danger 
 was the element in which they lived, and wounds or 
 death might have met them any day of the year. 
 
 For all we know to the contrary, they may be 
 carry-ing on the war while we pen this chronicle, and, 
 unless more vigorous measures are adopted for pre- 
 venting fire than have been taken in time past, there 
 can be no question that these stout-hearted men will 
 in time to come have more occasion than ever foi 
 fighting the flames. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 EDINBURGH : T. AND A. CONSTABLE 
 PRINTERS TO THE QUEEN, AND TO THE UMVERSITV.
 
 BY MR. R. M. BALLANTYNE. 
 
 With Illustrations. Crown 8vo, 5s. each. 
 
 " In his tales of the sea, of the forest and the flames, and in all that he writes, there is a 
 fidelity to nature and a knowledge of many paths of life which are not surpassed by any 
 author in his special field of literature." Morning Post. 
 
 "The fathers, mothers, guardians, uncles, and aunts, who wish to find an acceptable 
 birthday present for a healthy-minded boy of normal tastes, cannot possibly go wrong if they 
 buy a booj^with Mr. Ballantyne's name on the title-page." Academy. 
 
 Blue Lights ; or, Hot Work in the 
 
 Soudan. A Tale of Soldier Life. 
 
 The Fugitives; or, The Tyrant 
 
 Queen of Madagascar. 
 
 Red Rooney ; or, the Last of the 
 Crew. 
 
 The Rover of the Andes : A Tale 
 
 of Adventure in South America. 
 
 The Young Trawler : A Story of 
 
 Life and Death and Rescue in the North 
 Sea. 
 
 Dusty Diamonds, Cut and Polish- 
 ed : A Tale of City Arab Life. 
 
 The Battery and the Boiler ; or, 
 
 The Electrical Adventures of a Telegraph- 
 Cable Layer. 
 
 The Giant of the North ; or, Pok- 
 
 ings Round the Pole. 
 
 The Lonely Island ; or, the Refuge 
 
 of the Mutineers. 
 
 Post Haste : A Tale of Her Ma- 
 
 jesty's Mails. 
 
 In the Track of the Troops : A 
 
 Tale of Modem War. 
 
 The Settler and the Savage : A 
 
 Tale of Peace and War in South Africa. 
 
 Under the Waves ; or Diving in 
 
 Deep Waters. 
 
 The Lifeboat : A Tale of our Coast 
 
 Heroes. 
 
 The Golden Dream ; A Tale of the 
 
 Diggings. 
 
 Red Eric ; or, The Whaler's Last 
 
 Cruise. 
 
 Freaks on the Fells, and Why I 
 
 did not Become a Sailor. 
 
 The Wild Man of the West 
 Gascoyne the Sandalwood Trader: 
 
 A Tale of the Pacific. 
 Rivers of Ice : A Tale Illustrative 
 
 of Alpine Adventure and Glacier Action. 
 
 The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale. 
 
 Black Ivory : A Tale of Adventure 
 among the Slavers of East Africa. 
 
 The Norsemen in the West; or, 
 
 America before Columbus. 
 
 The Iron Horse : or, Life on the 
 
 Line. A Railway Tale. 
 
 Erling the Bold: A Tale of the 
 Norse Sea Kings. 
 
 Fighting the Flames : A Tale of 
 
 the London Fire Brigade. 
 
 Deep Down : A Tale of the Cornish 
 Mines. 
 
 The Floating Light of the Good- 
 win Sands. 
 
 Shifting Winds : A Tough Yarn. 
 
 j The Lighthouse : Being the Story 
 I of Great Fight between Man and the Sea.
 
 BY MR. R. M. BALLANTYNE. 
 
 With Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 3s. 6d. 
 
 THE MIDDY AND THE MOORS: 
 
 AN ALGERINE TALE. 
 
 THE PRAIRIE CHIEF. 
 
 LIFE IN THE RED BRIGADE: 
 
 A FIERY TALE. AND FORT DESOLATION ; or, SOLITUDE IN THE 
 WILDERNESS. 
 
 THE ISLAND QUEEN; 
 
 Or, DETHRONED BY FIRE AND WATER. A TALE OF THE SOUTHERN 
 HEMISPHERE. 
 
 TWICE BOUGHT: 
 
 A TALE OF THE OREGON GOLD-FIELDS. 
 
 THE MADMAN AND THE PIRATE. 
 MY DOGGIE AND I. 
 
 PHILOSOPHER JACK: 
 
 A TALE OF THE SOUTHERN SEAS. 
 
 THE RED MAN'S REVENGE. 
 TALES OF ADVENTURE ON THE SEA. 
 
 TALES OF ADVENTURE BY FLOOD, FIELD, AND 
 MOUNTAIN. 
 
 TALES OF ADVENTURE; 
 
 Or, WILD WORK IN STRANGE PLACES. 
 
 TALES OF ADVENTURE ON THE COAST. 
 
 SIX MONTHS AT THE CAPE. 
 
 LETTERS TO PERIWINKLE FROM SOUTH AFRICA. A RECORD OF PERSONAL 
 EXPERIENCE AND ADVENTURE. 
 
 With Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 2s. 6d. 
 
 BATTLES WITH THE SEA; 
 
 Or, HEROES OF THE LIFEBOAT AND THE ROCKET. 
 
 With numerous Illustrations. Crown 8vo. 2s. 
 
 THE KITTEN PILGRIMS; 
 
 Or, GREAT BATTLES AND GRAND VICTORIES. 
 
 LONDON : JAMES NISBET & CO., 21 BERNEES STREET.