The weekly Floridian. [volume] (Tallahassee, Fla.) 1867-19??, 1891-07-11

| and the WO1K or x66Cu0 USSAu.
It was time, for there was white fig
ure at almost every one Of the multitu-
dinous wi. dows. The awful wall loom
ed up in the darkness, story ON story,
dimly seen as to its upper half, for that
part of it was wreathed in the binding
smoke. The smoke turned to fame
fame bursting through scores of win
dows The terror stricken creatures be-
gan to jump. The people in the street
below were frantic.
"Back! back!" they shrieked. ''Wait!
we'll save you! don't jump!"
Which is the pleasanter, to be roasted
alive or to be mashed out Of shape on
the stone pavement? If there is to be
any saving done, it must be done quick
ly. Many people were busy saving
themselves The sleeping clerk and
porter and bell boys had gotten out.
But what of the little black fellow in
the elevator? He, too, had been asleep.
He had been awakened as the others had
bs@0 by the first cry Of fire. Unlike
them he had that "two-o'clock- in-the
morning courage" which Napoleon said
was the rarest sort. In an instant he de-
cided that it was his duty to stick to his
post. And stick he did.
Up and down he went, and every time
his car touched the Office floor it was
loaded with people. The journey was
frightful one, but he did not shrink
How long he could continue to make the
trip he could not tell. The elevator
might drop any minute. Very well, let
it drop. Some of the people in it might
survive the shock. 1t was sure to catch
fire sooner or later. Even then he would
be on the way to safety with his pas
sengers And at any rate he knew that
he could bring some people out of the
fire burning above.
He had not been good at going up
stairs, but he could run his elevator.
Trip after trip he made, each worse than
the last. The fireman at the bottom of
the shaft to whom he turned over his
living freight sought to stop him in his
dangerous work. The whole well was
full of smoke, and far up toward the
roof the fire could be seen.
Still he kept on, and it did seem that
every time he started skyward he was
going to certain death. But he knew
that the rooms and halls were swar1ning
with people, and he would take any
chance to save a life. The fremen were
doing their best outside; death was busy
within; and he finally made up his mind
that it was no use to go back again, till
all at once he remembered that he had
seen nothing of his little friend.
Could he weather the storm and flame
once more? He could try. He pulled
the rope, and the journey began. 1t was
slow, oh, how slow. The smoke was
terrible-worse even than the fre-but
he held his breath and fixed his mind
upon the business in hand.
The fame kindled the woodwork of
the car. He fell on his hands and knees,
but he kept his hold on the rope. At
last he reached her floor. he found her
room, and found her. She was asleep
and alone.
Wrapping her in the blankets, and
throwing about her rug which he
snatched from the floor, he struggled
through the flame and smoke back to the
burning car. Back from the jaws of
hell" it was that he brought her, fighting
the fire away from her every inch of the
way down. He had just strength enough
to stop the car.
The children were taken out and car
ried to drug store across the street
the girl alive and we'll and the boy seem
ingly dead.
He was horribly burned. Among the
people who stood around were the pa
rents of the little girl. They had been
out to an evening party, and returning
after long cold drive found their home
on fire. Every effort had been made, in
response to the agonizing appeals of the
father, to save the child-and now here
she was, safe and sound. laughing in her
mothers arms.
Aud the hero: He opened his eyes.
Did bring her froo all right?
Yes, yes" said the father. and how
can we ever thank you for what you have
done|'
"Nebber min bout dat, boss. Eff she's
safe OATS huff for me'-and he closed
his eyes.
Dead? Yes, dead and gone to heaven
in a chariot of tire.-Richard Yorke Ro-
nance.