Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1868-07-01

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the danger that was upon them, everything
was in blaze, and burning in the hot dry
air Of the summer night with frghtful rapid
ity.
Hardly anything was saved beyond the
lives Of the inmates and a few boxes Of papers
and valuables in the spire's study, and after
little while they gave over the attempt to
do anything, and stood out in the yard in front
of the house looking on at the destruction,
1ismaly enough Of course. But while they
looked, window in the upper part Of the
house was thrown open and a woman's white,
ghastly face looked out, while Nfss. Vale
shrieked;
Good heavens That woman and child
They have been forgotten, and now it is too
| late"
Too late 2 Little Nan? ?" shouted, almost
screamed, Eugene, who stood beside her, and
without another word he darted in at the open
door and up the burning stairs and disappear
ed in what seemed nothing less than a sea of
roaring fame. One great cry went up from
all who saw him, but high above it was his
poor mothers shrek as she fell faintiDg to
the ground
The next sound was the squire's voice call
ing upon the men to aid him in saving, not
only his sons life, but that of the woman and
child he had wished himself to save, and Of
fering great rewards to those who should sue
ceed in rescuing them. Not that | believe
the reward made any difference, for all were
ready to do their best without it, and no one,
whether man or chimney elf, can do more.
But before any one could find time or wit to
do anything more than talk, brave voice
from the window called out
All right Stand by to catch her, some
of you!'
Then Eugene appeared at the window, con-
veying great bundle bound around with
strips of sheets and towels tied together until
they made a rope nearly long enough to reach
the ground.
Quick now Cut off the rope and let me
have it for the woman Mother, see to little
Nan there in the bundle"
So little Nan, safe and sound, was taken
out of the comforter she had been packed in,
and Mrs. Vale sat down on the grass and took
her in her arms and cried over her as ii she
had been her own, all the time keeping her
eyes fixed on the window where Eugene now
stood with poor Mrs. Billings who, white and
trembling and scared, could hardly be pur-
suaded to even let him tie the rope around
her waist. At last, however, partly by coax
ing and partly by main strength, he succeed
ed in getting her outside Of the window, and
, then putting forth his whole strength he low
cred her gently and safely to the ground.
i, "She's safe and the ropes clear. Now
lasten it aud come down yourself!" shouted
the squire in trembling voice, for the boy
was the apple of his fathers eye, and proud
as he was Of his courage, he could hardly
wait to let him finish his work before he sum-
moned him out of his danger
"All right father. I've" began the
boy, and at that moment the floor gave way
under his feet, and he disappeared from the
window, where the flames came rushing out
q instead.
\ With an awful groan the father rushed
q forward, but was passed half way by a light
y boyish figure who few rather than ran from
q behind great tree where he had been hiding,
plunged through the chasm left by the door
now burned away, and disappeared in that
roaring, frightful furnace, whose deadly jaws
i seemed gaping for more food, more lives.
4 But the next moment that light active fig
: ure appeared staggering out again, this time
with the senseless form of Eugene Vale in its
A arms, his face and arms wrapped in the coat
a his preserver had hastily stripped off his own
!. back to put around him.
:, Just outside the house, rescuer and rescued
came down in heap together, and when they
were raised and cared for by the busy hands
and kind hearts all about them, it was dis.
covered that il was Jscob Billings who had
4, saved Eugene Vale's life, and that both lads
were seriously injured, Jacob by far the most
4 so, from having exposed his head and face to
J. the flames while protecting Eugene with his
Il own coat.
A week later the squire came to see Jacob,
. still in bed and mending very slowly because
I of his low spirits and want of appetite.
. Jacob, began the old man, if it had
A not been for you the other night, l should be
o without n son to-day Now have two for
shall always look upon you as If you were"
q "Stop, sir, please said Jacob, very white
=. and trembling, but very much resolved to
e speak.
y Before you say any more, l want to tell
"a you it was [ who set your house and barn on
:, fire, and il was only when | saw Eugene save
a my mother and sister that knew how awful
n ly wicked | had been. | wish l had died in
. the fire, sir, do, really and truly"
/ OF course the squire was very much shock
!. ed at this, and insisted somewhat sternly upon
q hearing the whole story. Jacob told every
"A word Just as faithfully as he could, and then
- the squire went away without word.
s5 Three days later he came again and brought
e Eugene with him. WheL he had the boys
~ alone, he said
e =" You two have had lesson which will, !
a. think, last you your lives. 1t will make bet.
% ter men of you if there is any of the right
! stuff in you, and | think there is in both"
a "Jacob, forgive you the great injury you
~ did me in your madness, for the sake of the
great benefit you did me when you recovered
> your senses. More than that, since you are
Il so eager for education, and, as your teacher
d says, so good scholar you shall 60 with Eu'
A gene to school at my expense, and if you still
,e wish it when you are fitted, you shall 60 tc
1. college and study for profession, Jacob; an
N | wise man or fool to trust you thus? ?"
10 "A wise man, III prove you, sir" sale
NJ Jacob, with sudden strength in his own pow
10 ers, aud the squire, looking in his face, be
:; lieved him.
But the best of the whole story is, that ia
10 cob kept his word, and proved in the end thai
as Squire Vale instead of fool, had been on,
~ of the wisest as well as kindcst of men in re-
rs paying the injuries of his enemies by benefits
til ----
OF Naming the Baby.