Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1888-03-31

the policeman salutss with great respect.
'"Tis good fire, MIR. Moloney," says
he.
'sWell, Dennis,n responds Mr.. Mo-
loney affably, out of his frieze ulster,
"it's good day for good fire."
The crowd smokers at this original
ebullition of Celtic wit, and you learn
from your neighbor that this is the
famous Mickey Moloney, who is sup
posed to carry the whole Fourth Ward In
his trousers pocket. Mr.. Moloney, who
has no badge, or at least shows none,
marches unehallenged into the gloom,
and the policeman wrangles for five
minutes with nervous little reporter,
fresh from country college, with a
brand-new silver badge, who carries
notebook and pencil, and who gets so
exited that he commences to cry, where
upon he Is commanded to go in and
drown the fire out, which order he pro-
ceeds in part, at least, 10 obey, amid the
jeers of the mob.
The engines are now fighting o wall
of fire. The air is heavy with cinders,
which sting our faces as they drive be-
fore the bitter blast. In the flooded
streets you can see the Ice growing In
films. The bar-room, at our elbow,
drives a tremendous trade. The counter
is lined two deep, and we have to reach
pneumonia, preparatory to a dodge
through the fire-lines. The red-nosed
man, who has brought several men
whom he does not know from Adam in
to treat them, Is making them pay for
his hospitality by retailing his griev-
ance against the police in maudlin
voice. Men in various stages of ine-
briefly are discussing the fires they have
seen, and competing vigorously in their
orsr ~f
their alleged terrors. A frsinen, who
comes in dripping, with scales Of ice all
over his wooden shirt, and bleeding from
q cut in his head. is Immediately sur
rounded. II he had the capacity OF
casl it might be taxed free OF expense
to himself.
I'm obliged, gents,"h he says; "all 1
want is some whisky and some hot bull
lon."
When he gets those he calmly drinks
the bouiilon and washes his wound with
the spirits, and Is oil before the blbu-
lous rabble has recovered from the
shock.
Now we are in for IL. Every breath Is
an effort. Our bodies freeze snd our
faces scorch. Smoke, smell, the tumult
OF clsnking machinery, and the furious
growing of the unseen conhagration put
an embargo on words. The shouts we
hear are dim and incoherent, as COM
niands issued on the quarterback in a
hurricane. The faces that fit by Us ara
black, as with pattle-grime. and full OF
the frenzied excitement that marks those
of soldiers in charge. 1t only needs a
discharge of artillery to complete the IL
fusion, and =.
A wall DOWN.
For brief moment the windy eddy
from the crashing stone and metal rips
the fog apart. Then we see man going
up a ladder to window within which
the fire Is seething with awful splendor.
'.Some one in there?"
Yes" says the engineer.
"Why, can't we see the cat on the win
dow ledger
Then The cloud closes in again, but we
know by the mad reclamation OF the in
visible andiencs that poor puss Ii saved.
We tread q pavement inches deep in
cinders, and strewn with broken bricks
and fragments of stone. There Is con-
slant fusilade OF these proiectiles that
Keeps us lodging and makes us envy
the firemen their leather hats. The plate
glass windows behind US split Ia the
heat, with reports like pistol shots.
In the stores the gas-iets are all lighted
ard the electric lights are afare, and
among the shop people we see the IN
derwriters' men in their uniforms COW
ering goods with tarpaulins and rubber
cloths. In one place the statesmen are
drinking champagne with the air of men
whose insurance policies are all right,
In another. wild-eyed person ia shoot
ing TO and fro in the agitation Of despair.
Il would, PROBABLY, not be safe TO ask
him IL he is fully insured.
There IS tangle of telegraph wires all
around in the cutters. A fiery snake
Kisses at orr feet and new com motion
breaks out. The elsctric-light wires are
down, vita whass death svittizg from