The Grand Haven news. [volume] (Grand Haven, Mich.) 1858-18??, 1862-04-23

cry. They all rose, dressed themselves,
and calmly awaited the event. A few
men, as Robert Etfingham came back to
report to his mother and sisters, were
gathered around the fire, using the poor
means in their power to extinguish it.
One or two buildings had been pulled
down, but with no effect. The wind
blew the flames across the ruins and
caught the houses beyond. A few high
trees served as temporary shield, but
they too were soon shorn of their branches.
Around Mrs. Efingham's house there
was thick hawthorn hedge, protecting
the lower part of the buildings, and fine
elm tree hung gracefully over the gate
way. The inmates, however, had no ap-
prehension for their own dwelling; but,
filed with pity for those who we're already
sufferers, Ida Effingbam seized some
leathern buckets which her father had pro-
vided for an exigency of this nature, in
default of more extensive means. Her
sister Carrie followed with others. The
women who had been wringing their
hands in hopeless terror, took heart at
Ida's example, and formed themselves in
to long line down the street, to pass the
water for the engines. During that long
day, from dawn until FIVE in the afternoon,
the heroic women stood without food or
rest, some pale, others flushed to fever
heat by the fierce flames.
Other women there were, who carried
drink to the faiuting people; pals of hot
coffee, wine and water, in short anything
that could be obtained to quench the ter
rible thirst occasioned by the fire, until
the cry of 4" water giving out everywhere!
made a sensation throughout the ranks.
The sultry air, filled with dense smoke,
the horrible smell emitted by large guam
titles of burning oil and fish, the sense of
hunger and thirst, and the unwonted IA
tigue of passing heavy buckets of water,
might well lax to its utmost the strength
of tender and delicate women, but they
were buoyed up by the spirit within that
impaired courage and resolution worthy
of men.
"Take some wine, sir" said Ida, kind
ly TO an old man of seventy-fve, whose
white hairs shaded pleasant, moody
countenance.
"Thank you, my dear young lady,"
he answered, 81 have lived thus long and
do not know the taste. l must not begin
now, even when a fair girl invites me-"
Ida dropped the bucket she held, and
ran to the nearest we'll for some water. The
old man drank, thanking her earnestly;
and the act was seen by another pair
of eyes that were now gazing upon the
beautiful girl. John Winthrop had arriv-
ed in Brentwood only the evening before
the fire, to visit his friend, Allan Fairfield.
Consequently he had not yet been intro
duced to any one. He had gone out with
Fairfield when the fire commenced, and
had worked hard for some poor and aged
people, placing their furniture in safety,
and providing quieter retreats for them
selves, away from the noise and confusion.
Ida had seen this gentleman as he flew
around, sometimes carrying a child, some
times piece of old but evidently we'll
kept furniture, or leading away an infirm
man or woman, as if it had been his own
father or mother, so tenderly did he watch
the feeble footsteps over the wet ground.
And from earliest dawn, he too had seen
Ida and Carrie, in their close, dark woolen
habits, with a simple handkerchief tied
over the brown curls, and watched their
numerous Offices of help and kindness to
man, woman and child.
"Who are they, Fairfeld" he said,
as they both stopped to drink some wa
| ter which Ida had just set down, in order
to take little child from perilous stu
alton.
"They are the bellies of Brentwood.
No that word insults them. They are
the angels of Brentwood"
"a cry of "more water" sent the
friends 10 opposite directions; but the IL
tie which Allan had given the sisters, lin
gered on the ear of John Winthrop; and
through that day, he kept as close to their
side as possible. Once Allan came near
and staid long enough to introduce them,
and an acquaintance Immediately estab-
lished between them.
Towards night, sufficient help arrived
from other towns, with facilities for TAX
ing water from the sea; and the trained
firemen induced the inhabitants to leave
the fire in their charge while they rested.
AS Ida and her sister turned wearily
homeward, John Winthrop and his friend
were beside them, promising to call upon
them the next morning. That night the
weary watchman slept upon his post. The
fire that had seemed wholly subdued, broke
out afresh, and people were too soundly
asleep to catch The cracking sound until
the bright light awoke them. Building
after building, rendered terribly dry by
the heat of the fire and the strong wind
of the preceding day, yielded rapidly to
the element now.
"It is Mrs. Effingham's house, John p'
cried Allan, as they sprang from bed,
putting on single garment, and rushing
down stairs