burning in this house!” she gollup. “What perfume of smell do it resemble?” I ask it. 93 93 “It resemble a fire among dry goods,” she gubble. “Be calmly quiet,” I negotiate. “The smell you heard was merely only slight gift-cigar I smoke in honor of my Cousin Nogi.” “I would avoid such a cousin,” she snib with nose. “Blow out gas and go to bed at oncely!” I could hear her peevishness by her feet as they walked. It were nice, balmish evening of summer weather when Mrs. and Mr. Chas Hassock, neighborly persons of quiet fashion, was there to play bridge-gamble amidst society clothing. Hon. Mr. Fogg, medium gentleman with tame whiskers, were also there acting like a husbandman. Bridge-card resume for several hours while those 4 persons sat there calling each other “Trumps” and other American insults. O suddenly!! what was that my nose smelled? Inflammatory smell of fire!! With iced brain I recall what “First Ade to Fires” said about mad chimbleys, so I rosh silently to outside house to see how ours were behaving. O surely yes! Hon. Chimbley were shooting sparkles & pin-wheels from his enraged bricks! What I do then? With immediate quickness, I rosh to dining-room and grab 2 salt-sellers in my courageous thumbs. Making my toes extremely swift, I clomb ladder to roof & scramble along shingles with care peculiar to Thos. Cats.94 Then, by heroic movements of wrists, I pepper considerable salt straight into the face of that mad Chimbley. Yet he still continue on making Vesuvius out of himself. 94 What nextly must I do? I think of that fire-volume which say, “Human folks must be saved before all other furniture.” So I scomper to bed-room, dragg forth one complete blanket & soush him in wet water of bath-tub. With these blanket held in my firm knuckles, I ascended downstairs
Prev.
Back
Top