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The fire's out or what isn't can be easily handled by the hose lines." "Good!" cried Tom. "But, all the same, I wish I had been able to make the first mixture work." "Perhaps I can help you with that," suggested Mr. Baxter.
The servants have buried the silver and the pictures, but " She glanced at the beautiful frieze, which, without its electric lights, looked a mere blur of blue and black, then shrugged her shoulders. "I just won't believe my house will go," she said, defiantly; "not till the last minute, anyhow. When the fire's over, or Mr.
"Ought we to inform the other girls now?" asked Marion with a sense of growing courage, for she felt that in the Camp Fire's Guardian she had found elements of wise counsel extending even beyond that young woman's experience. "Why, yes," Miss Ladd replied. "I see no reason for delay. I'd rather tell them now than just before or after we get to Hollyhill.
Holding the newspaper in front of his face, Freddie's father reached the fire engine, and turned off the machinery that pumped the water. "There!" he cried. "The fire's out! The only damage is from water," and he laughed, for he was wet, and so were Mrs. Bobbsey, Flossie and Freddie; and the kitchen itself was pretty well sprinkled.
'The fire's gone out, she began again, 'we shall make ourselves ill; let's go to bed. Her imploring voice reached him at last, and made him start with sudden exasperation. 'Oh! go if you like! You can see very well that I want to finish something! She remained there for another minute, amazed by his sudden anger, her face expressive of deep sorrow.
But Fritz kept at it and was happy as a bird, till one day we woke up an' started bein' frightful too, only when we did begin we were frightfuller than ever Fritz thought of bein' yes, rather! Our gas is more deadly, our lachrymatory shells are more lachrymose an' our liquid fire's quite tophole won't go out till it burns out rather not! So Frightful Fritz is licked at his own dirty game.
'Then they don't dress like that nowadays? 'I don't know how they dress, and don't care, said the younger man, repacking his treasures. Old Fog concluded to camp with his new friend that night and be off at dawn. 'You see it is late, he said, 'and your fire's all made and everything comfortable. I've a long row before me to-morrow: I'm on my way to the Beavers.
"I I got home quick as I could Henry," said Mrs. Gribble, panting. "Where is my tea?" demanded her husband. "What do you mean by it? The fire's out and the kitchen is just as you left it." "I I've been to a lawyer's, Henry," said Mrs. Gribble, "and I had to wait." "Lawyer's?" repeated her husband. "I got a letter this afternoon telling me to call. Poor Uncle George, that went to America, is gone."
You know: "'Scotland's burning! Scotland's burning! Where, where? Where, where? Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! Pour on water! Pour on water! Fire's out! Fire's out!" Nan laughed. "I've heard that, too," she said. "But it was another Scotland." Then: "So your name is Llewellen?" "Marg'ret Llewellen."
I'm beginning to envy you city chaps now. That makes the fourth engine that's come past. You get more for your money than we do. Look at that chief hurdling curbstones in his little red wagon. If Homeburg ever gets big enough to have a chief's wagon, I'll suffocate with pride. I see it's the same old story. Fire's all out. It always is by the time you've run nine blocks.
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